Temple and I stared hard at a big man with a bronzed skin and a rubicund laugh who expected to receive valentines.

My aunt thrust the letter back to me secretly.  ‘It must be from a lady,’ said she.

‘Why, who’d have a valentine from any but a lady?’ exclaimed the captain.

The squire winked at me to watch his guest.  Captain Bulsted fed heartily; he was thoroughly a sailor-gentleman, between the old school and the new, and, as I perceived, as far gone in love with my aunt as his brother was.  Presently Sewis entered carrying a foaming tankard of old ale, and he and the captain exchanged a word or two upon Jamaica.

’Now, when you’ve finished that washy tea of yours, take a draught of our October, brewed here long before you were a lieutenant, captain,’ said the squire.

‘Thank you, sir,’ the captain replied; ’I know that ale; a moment, and I will gladly.  I wish to preserve my faculties; I don’t wish to have it supposed that I speak under fermenting influences.  Sewis, hold by, if you please.’

My aunt made an effort to retire.

‘No, no, fair play; stay,’ said the squire, trying to frown, but twinkling; my aunt tried to smile, and sat as if on springs.

‘Miss Beltham,’ the captain bowed to her, and to each one as he spoke, ’Squire Beltham, Mr. Harry Richmond; Mr. Temple; my ship was paid off yesterday, and till a captain’s ship is paid off, he ’s not his own master, you are aware.  If you think my behaviour calls for comment, reflect, I beseech you, on the nature of a sailor’s life.  A three-years’ cruise in a cabin is pretty much equivalent to the same amount of time spent in a coffin, I can assure you; with the difference that you’re hard at work thinking all the time like the—­hum.’

‘Ay, he thinks hard enough,’ the squire struck in.

’Pardon me, sir; like the—­hum—­plumb-line on a leeshore, I meant to observe.  This is now the third—­the fourth occasion on which I have practised the observance of paying my first visit to Riversley to know my fate, that I might not have it on my conscience that I had missed a day, a minute, as soon as I was a free man on English terra firma.  My brother Greg and I were brought up in close association with Riversley.  One of the Beauties of Riversley we lost!  One was left, and we both tried our luck with her; honourably, in turn, each of us, nothing underhand; above-board, on the quarter-deck, before all the company.  I ’ll say it of my brother, I can say it of myself.  Greg’s chances, I need not remark, are superior to mine; he is always in port.  If he wins, then I tell him—­” God bless you, my boy; you’ve won the finest woman, the handsomest, and the best, in or out of Christendom!” But my chance is my property, though it may be value only one farthing coin of the realm, and there is always pity for poor sinners in the female bosom.  Miss Beltham, I trespass on your kind attention.  If I am to remain a bachelor