The undertaking was readily given, and long before the whole story was told, the pilot’s Christian virtues had broken down.  At frequent intervals while the narrative was being told he interjected, “Oh! why didn’t you tell me?” His mind was transfixed.  Then the processes of it became confused.  The vision of wealth and the reckless squandering of some of it took possession of him, and with uncontrolled zeal he called out—­

“My God! what a story!  O captain, why didn’t you tell me what it was at once, and not waste time?  Let us get to work without delay.  I will undertake to land what you have got on an island and share the proceeds with you.”

“Too late, too late, my friend.  You have thrown away an opportunity which may never come to you again,” replied the master, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.  “Transactions of this kind are done spontaneously and with vigour—­they are not to be dreamed about.”

“I admit my error, captain; but, oh! how was I to know?  Surely you do not mean to tell me that the balance of the tobacco has been thrown overboard since I came here?”

“Yes, it is all gone.  We do not hesitate when we face the inevitable, no matter what the sacrifice may be.”

“Well, I’m blowed!” soliloquized the pilot.  “It will take me some time to get over this little bit of history.”

“I daresay,” said the captain; “but it is time you took charge—­she is now within your jurisdiction.  What do you say to going on the bridge?  You will find the chief officer there, with whom you may condole, if it be safe for a stranger to speak of so delicate a subject to him.  You will, perhaps, find him stupefied with grief and shame at the unpatriotic conduct of his commander, and I daresay his language will impress you with the venerable traditions cherished by his class when things are supposed to have gone wrong.”

The pilot greeted the chief officer cordially, but did not receive a very polite response to his attempts to draw him into conversation about his recent experiences, and was cut short in a sailorly fashion by being told if he wanted any information about experiences, as he called them, to go and ask “that ——­ fool of a skipper about it.”

“I have had a little conversation with him,” replied the pilot; “and it does seem to me extraordinary—­and if I were not here I might almost say an outrage—­that no other course could be found than utter sacrifice.”

“Oh, don’t talk to me!” exclaimed the vivacious mate, in a flood of passion.  “You call it extraordinary and an outrage!  Is that a proper name for such wickedness?  You ask me what I think of it?  I tell you I cannot think.  You talk about outrage!  I say, sir, it is joining outrage to injustice, and I cannot believe that any other than a frozen-souled fool would have done it.  There is not a glimmering of common-sense in it.  The wonder is that he didn’t take it back to the scoundrels, for pity’s sake!”