We are in these degenerate days singularly unfortunate in many ways. Our means of excitement are nothing like what they used to be. The Buccaneer's island was no exception to the general rule. Indeed time seems to have handled him very roughly. Not that he was altogether free from surprises. Occasionally an idiot obtained possession of a pistol, and either tried to commit or did commit a murder. Then at times a man was knocked down, kicked and robbed, whilst the mighty house-breaker prowled about with pistol and crowbar in search of plunder. It is also true that the Ojabberaways did all they could in the way of providing excitement of a lively nature for the benefit of the old Buccaneer and all his people; but gone were his highwaymen. The vulgar thief alone remained. A mutiny at sea, with the murder of a crew, was a thing of the past. Yet we have to relate a dark conspiracy, which will be for ever known as the Cabal of the Cook's Caboose, and which might have been productive of the gravest results. Mention has already been made of a slight defection amongst a certain section of the crew.

It was past eight bells, and the midnight watch had been set sufficiently long to allow all the look-out men to take up their positions of repose. Not a sound was to be heard upon the old Ship of State except the heavy breathing of the watchman aloft and the monotonous tread of the look-out man aft, who had not as yet secured a comfortable place to pass his watch in. The Church Hulk was wrapped in a deep sleep and the Buccaneer's Chief Priest, with all his ecclesiastical big guns, minor canons, able priests, and ordinary deacons, were fondly locked in slumber's arms. They kept no visible look-out, but angels with their silver wings, it was firmly believed by all devout Buccaneers, hovered over that old ship at night and kept the devil and all his minions away. It was only when the dusky mantle of midnight rested upon the island that silence ever reigned supreme upon that old Church Hulk.

The look-out man on deck hailed the look-out man aloft. "What, ho there!" he cried. "Watchman! what of the night?" The man up aloft had evidently been deeply meditating, for something very like a yawn broke the stillness of the air, but presently a voice came down laden with the words: "All's well! The twinkling eyes of Heaven look down upon a world wrapped in peaceful slumber. All's well!"

"All's well," went up from below in reply, and again there was a great stillness. The eyes of all the houses on shore except one here and there which sat watching for the setting out of some poor weary soul to the regions that lie beyond the grave, were out. The dog that generally breaks the stillness of the night on such occasions was also silent; probably asleep. The wind even had folded her wings and had ceased to sing her lullaby to the accompaniment of her many stringed lute.

Presently a crouching form was to be seen creeping stealthily under the starboard side of the old Ship of State. The suspicious looking object who was enveloped in the dark cloak and slouched hat usually worn by conspirators and hired no doubt for the occasion, made for the cook's galley, and in a voice scarcely above a whisper, exclaimed: "Pepper!"

"Is that you, Chips?" came from the caboose.

"The same," was the reply.

"Where are the rest?" asked the cook.

"They will be here directly," the carpenter said, as he darted into the galley. Scarcely had he got well inside than his mate joined him, and shortly afterwards the burly form of Billy Cheeks, the butcher, was seen trying to conceal himself under the bulwarks. "Keep down, can't you?" cried the cook. "You'll have the look-out man see you."

"Can't help it if he does; can't make myself any smaller than nature made me," replied the butcher. "If I was as small as you, or a ringbolt chaser like Chips, I might be able to do it." This was sarcasm. The butcher loved sarcasm; but the cheery cook turned it off by saying that Chips, and Chisel, his mate, must spokeshave Billy Cheeks down to the ordinary and usual size of a conspirator. As the butcher did not see anything funny in this he did not laugh; and so the joke fell like a dead shell, quite harmless. But the cook, the carpenter, and his mate said that Billy Cheeks was far too big for a conspirator.

All was pitch dark inside the cook's caboose. The fire had long since been out, and it would not have been safe to strike a light. No doubt they had their dark lanterns, for conspirators would not be fully equipped without them, but for some reason best known to themselves, they did not for the present produce them.

"Your programme!" cried the butcher, who generally came at once to the point.

"Listen, my lads, and you shall hear," exclaimed the carpenter. "The old man being away and the captain with him, we must make this the high tide of our prosperity, and carry out as pretty a little scheme as ever entered the head of man, although I say it, as should not. The old coxswain is ashore amongst the landlubbers, so we have nothing to fear from him. For the rest of the crew on board belonging to our watch, well, if they will not join us, why, Billy, my man, you must do your duty. First and foremost we must lighten ship."

"That is easily done," said the cook, "by flinging overboard bodily the old man's Upper Chamber." It is wonderful what a hatred the cook had for this room in the after part of the old ship. He himself said it was on account of their ignorance, want of intelligence, class prejudice, and the airs and graces they gave themselves.

"As you all know, my mates," continued the carpenter, "things ain't as they ought to be on board this old craft; she is much too slow for the times. When a coat becomes too old to wear, what do we do? why, chuck it away."

The jolly little cook now had his say. "Without a doubt the old ship is too bluff bowed for the rapid times we live in, and is more fit to drive piles than to make way against the swift current of events. So, my lads, I am for seizing the ship, and my little game—"

"What is that?" cried the butcher, as he laid his trembling hand upon the carpenter's arm.

"What is what?" exclaimed the carpenter, slightly startled. "Can't you give Pepper time to explain himself. Hurry no man's cattle, is an old and good proverb."

"I heard a noise outside, as if someone was moving," said the butcher.

"Then take a look round, Billy," said the carpenter.

"I am too big," said the butcher, with a sneer, which was felt, though on account of the darkness it was not seen. "Let Pepper go; he is the smallest; no one will see him, and if they do they will take no notice." This was veiled sarcasm, but the cook thought it better not to notice it, because he knew the butcher could not help it.

"Let every man stick to his trade," said the cook, "my place is inside the galley and not out."

Then up spoke the doughty carpenter. "What, my lads! is quaking fear going to be present at our councils? Look at me. I am not afraid." As it was pitch dark, of course nobody could see. "Chisel, my lad," he said, addressing his mate, "show these fellows the stuff you are made of."

"And why should I do what others won't?" replied Chisel. "It is no more my business than it is the cook's, and every man to his trade, say I, too."

"Why don't you take a look round yourself?" cried the butcher.

"Of course I will. Thus!" exclaimed the carpenter, "does conscience make cowards of ye all." Having delivered himself of the quotation, he took a hasty glance through the little square hole that acted as a window in the back part of the galley, and said there was nothing. "I knew that," said the cook. "That is why I did not take the trouble to look; but this is a grievous waste of precious time." "Well, my lads," the carpenter continued, ignoring the fact that the cook was, as the saying is, in possession of the house, or rather, galley. "First and foremost we must seize this old craft, run her ashore, break her up, and build a spic and span new one, upon entirely new lines. We will take a hint here and a hint there. In such a thing our friend Jonathan would not be a bad man to go by. Then we will board the old ship alongside, and make her disgorge, for the general good, some of her accumulated plunder. She is worth a pretty plum I can tell you. Been hoarding up for ages, and yet she is always crying out poverty. Bah! there must be something wrong somewhere, or where does all the money go? She does not apparently give too much of it amongst the poorer part of her crew; but as she renders no accounts we are all in the dark, my lads. It is a busy buzzing hive of drones, though."

"As you say, Master Chips," said the cook. "She does not seem to give much of her stored up wealth to her poor brethren, and Heaven knows that the priestly gabardine too often covers an empty stomach, while others amongst them lead the lives of a Dives. Does poverty and penury find clothing or food out of her riches? Not a bit of it. Too many of her crew, are they not proud? Have they not made an exclusive and an aristocratic high-cast priesthood of themselves?"

"So wags the world, my mates; so wags the world," cried the carpenter. "While one suffers from repletion, another starves. But that old Hulk is now out of date, and she will cut up well you may be sure. Having plundered her, and given every ecclesiastical dog a bone—no offence to the sacred calling—we will bore a hole in her and let her sink. Then, when we are well across the bridge that connects her with this old craft, Chisel, my mate, shall saw the bridge through, and thus lay a trap for the rats; let them either sink or swim."

"Rats, they say," remarked the cook, as he handled his three-pronged toasting-fork, "always leave a sinking ship, and the ecclesiastical rat will prove, I expect, no exception to the rule."

"Honest Pepper!" cried the carpenter, "you speak, as you always do, like a book."

"I've some doubt on my mind, which I should like cleared up before we go any further," said the butcher.

"Out with it, Billy, my man, out with it," exclaimed the carpenter. "Your chest is big, but no doubt it will be the better for being lightened, and an empty house is better than a bad tenant, any day of the week."

"Well, you talked about running this craft ashore, and then turning your attention to the Church Hulk; but if you do that, what is the use of sawing the bridge in two. The bridge would be the plank we should have to walk; with nothing but a drop of some fathoms deep into the pit we had dug for ourselves."

"Or rather the water, Billy," said the cook, who loved his joke.

"That little error can easily be rectified by our settling with the Church Hulk first; but these are mere details. The workers, my lads, shall have their reward; and the clerical Lazarus shall sit down at the same table as the clerical Dives."

"But robbing a church," said the butcher, "is about the last thing a fellow ought to do, is it not?"

"The end, Billy, will justify the means," the carpenter remarked.

"Our master, the Buccaneer," said the cook, "was not above robbing a church once, and who will say he did wrong? Of course his conscience-healers will find justification for the act if he pays them well, and as they read history by the light of faith, and not altogether by facts, they can prove all things entirely to their own satisfaction, and what would have been an act of robbery in others, would be, when they were concerned, a most laudable action. Faith, as is well known, my mates, can work wonders, and it can overcome a mountain of the most obstinate facts with the greatest ease."

"But suppose they turn to and curse us," asked the butcher, who evidently had some qualms of conscience.

"And suppose they do," cried the cook. "Are we a lot of old women to be frightened by such things. Know you not the saying, Billy, that curses come home to roost? Let them curse then."

"Where is Chisel?" the carpenter asked.

"I am here," a voice said out of the darkness.

"Not hearing you, mate, I thought you must have slipped away."

"It appears to me," replied the carpenter's mate, "that there is little need for me to say much, considering that I am expected to do all the dirty work."

"Who will say that anything is dirty work?" replied the cook. "The worker purifies and elevates the work." Pepper was a philosopher. The carpenter continued, "Mates, rest assured of this; if it suits the Buccaneer to sacrifice his Church Ship, he will do it, for he has an elastic conscience, which he will satisfy by saying prayers before and after the act. And as for Dogvane, well, he will wait to see which way the cat jumps. If he sees the time has come, why, then, the State Church will be cast adrift. It is not the first time that old William has robbed a church. I am not the man to say he did a wrong. Why should the Church Hulk be kept moored alongsides of the old craft? All well enough when she ruled the roast; but now more than two hundred sects are outside her jurisdiction, and the Chief Priest and other officers under him cannot at all times keep the unruly crew in order. They have their mutinies, and their interior economy does not seem to be just as it should be; so, my lads, she will either have to mend her ways or end them, as has been said of another of our master's ancient establishments."

"Which, my mates," said the cook, "you may leave to me. I will have my knife into the Upper Chamber yet."

"After duty comes pleasure," continued the carpenter. "Having settled the Church Hulk we must turn our attention to old Squire Broadacre. His house is in a terrible state, and must be put in order. We must pare down his property a bit, for there is a family called Hodge, a good, decent, honest, and industrious, though perhaps ignorant lot, who are but poorly off. It is the squire's duty to look after this family; but, mates, it is well known that selfishness fills hell."

"But do you suppose that the Buccaneer is going to allow all this to be done?" exclaimed the butcher.

"It appears to me, mates," replied the carpenter, "that our friend Billy is going to throw cold water on all our plans."

"What is the use of our assembling here," asked the butcher, "if we are not allowed to speak?"

"Who wants to stop your speaking?" exclaimed the carpenter. "I certainly am not going to undertake the task, I can tell you. Our master must be talked and wheedled over, and as for old Dogvane, well, we all know that he has a damned tender conscience. (The oath must be pardoned. The best of carpenters, and all sailors, swear at times.) Look here, mates, I fancy I know as much about Captain Dogvane as most men. If he wants a thing done, and if so be that he has set his heart upon it, bang goes his conscience in that direction. Never was there a conscience under better control. It says to the captain's inclination, 'which way does my master want me to go, so that his servant may obey him?' Never yet did Dogvane's conscience prove him wrong, and he is at all times on the best of terms with it. Look you, our captain will say neither yea nor nay, and he will use so many words in saying so, that everyone will be at loggerheads, quarrelling over what he means, when in all probability he means nothing; but is only waiting to see which way the wind is going to blow."

Here the cook spoke: "I have great faith in the old man; but if he does not go with us, what then? All the talent is not in one head, and as for his first lieutenant, and one or two others, we can afford to lose them. They are too slow for the times."

"Lads, in cases like this," cried the carpenter, "we must not mince matters; and if the worst comes to the worst Billy Cheeks must do his duty."

The paleness of the butcher at these ominous words was concealed. There was a terrible hidden meaning in what the carpenter said, and it made the butcher's flesh creep and his blood run cold.

"I am at all times prepared to do my duty," the butcher said, "at fly-flapping the tail end of a Tory cockerel, or at stopping the cackle of the older birds, I will give way to no man; but I love the old captain, and I would not injure a hair of his venerable head on any account. As we all know, he is but lightly covered."

"Who wants you to injure his hair?" cried the carpenter. "Do you think we want you to be ship's barber as well as ship's butcher?" The carpenter, who began to fear that he had gone too far, thought it best to trim a bit, and therefore he advised the butcher not to be so sharp in coming to conclusions. "Of course," he said, "it's natural that you should put a professional aspect on things."

"There!" cried the butcher in alarm, "I heard the noise again."

"Then go and see what it is," the carpenter said in disgust.

"Ah! It makes no difference to me," the butcher replied. "If you other fellows did not hear it, I must have been mistaken." The cook, the carpenter, and Chisel his mate were extremely gratified at this generous admission on the part of the butcher, and they one and all said they never could remember the time when Billy Cheeks had owned himself in the wrong before. The carpenter was quite softened. Even Pepper was touched, and they all hoped that it augured no ill to the butcher, for sudden changes in disposition and character are often the unwelcome harbingers of speedy dissolution. They strongly advised Billy Cheeks to consult his medical man. This painful episode for the time quite damped the spirits of the conspirators. "If anything happens to you, Billy, where would you like to be buried?" the cook asked. They left the butcher to think the matter over, and after a while the carpenter continued: "Having got possession of everything, we will all live happily together ever afterwards." The butcher, who had recovered himself asked, "How about the old lion which keeps watch over the Buccaneer's affairs?"

"Your hand, Billy," cried the carpenter groping about in the dark, "I see you are better, and have taken up your character again of Chief Obstructionist. If you don't like to join our party, go over to the other watch. They are in want of men of substance."

"Why do you catch one up so precious sharp?" cried the butcher, irritated. "I suppose there is no harm in asking a simple question? Who wants to go over to the other watch? Haven't I always stood by you and Pepper, and defended you when you were both blackguarded and abused? One would think you two were the Buccaneer's darlings, but you are neither of you liked, though people may laugh at you, Pepper. What is the use of my being here, if I am to keep my mouth shut? Chisel may act the part of a dummy if he likes, but I will not."

"Messmate, your hand," cried the carpenter again. "No offence, old man. We are in the same boat, therefore we must pull together. There is an old adage that applies to us."

"It is no use our quarrelling over trifles," said the cook. "The old lion is asleep: or out of wind, and he is just about as harmless as if he were stuffed with hair or straw, and no one fears him now let him roar ever so loud."

"But to ease your mind, Billy," said the carpenter, "my mate shall draw his teeth and cut his claws."

"And pray why should I have all the dirty and dangerous work to do?" said Chisel again.

"What!" exclaimed the carpenter, in evident surprise. "Are you going to take a leaf out of the butcher's book, mate! It seems we commented upon your silence too soon; but if you are afraid to do the work; well let his teeth and claws remain. Thus the difficulty is got over with ease. After all, it is only a detail, and we will not come to loggerheads over a detail."

"There it is again," cried the butcher, "I swear I saw something like a hand spread out fan-shape towards me. The thumb was from me, and seemed attached to a human nose."

This was very terrible, and the conspirators felt a creepy sensation all over them. But the cook reassured them all, by saying, that very often people, whose stomachs were out of order, suffered from optical delusions. He said he felt sure Billy Cheeks must have eaten something that had disagreed with him; so they took no further notice, and proceeded with the business of the evening.

"Of course we shall want assistance; but we can count upon the Ojabberaways, they are always ready for anything in the shape of a row. They have their price, then we shall have the Hodges, and the Sikes with us. They are all ripe for action. Now another thing presents itself. We must have a head, no body can get along without a head."

"Some seem to get along very well without such a thing," said the cook. This also was sarcasm. The cook loved it, and his tongue it was said was as sharp as needles. "Well, my mates," he continued, "of course we must have a head; but mind you, let us have no hereditary fool to fill the office; and no baubles in the shape of crowns and court paraphernalia, no court flunkies, my lads, to eat the bread of idleness, no court pimps. I am dead against crowns. They are expensive articles, no matter upon whose head they rest. Kings too often are little better than blood suckers, and blood spillers, and all by the grace of God forsooth."

The subject of a head for the new commonwealth, or whatever it was to be called, was of so grave a nature that for some few minutes not one of the conspirators spoke. Evidently each one was revolving in his own mind as to upon whom the selection ought to fall, and no doubt each could have solved the momentous question to his own entire satisfaction; but modesty kept their thoughts locked up. Presently the carpenter spoke.

"It's a detail," he said. They all agreed, and so the matter dropped, not, however, before there had been a slight passage of arms between the carpenter and the cook. "Of course," said Chips, "you are out of the question, Pepper?"

"And why so, pray?" was the indignant reply. "I didn't say I would take the post if it were offered me; for I am not like some people I could mention, of an ambitious turn of mind. No matter who falls, so long as they mount." This must have hit the carpenter very hard.

"Whoever heard of a cook being made a ruler?" the carpenter asked.

"For the matter of that, whoever heard of a carpenter?" said the cook.

"Why Pepper, my lad, where's your schooling? Does not a carpenter's son, and one who was a carpenter himself rule the whole Christian World? But that is neither here nor there. You are too small; you would not command respect."

"Now I am surprised to hear a man of your ability, Chips, talk such utter nonsense. You seem to judge men as a butcher does his meat, by the pound. That is the sort of thing perhaps a woman might do. If that is to be your little game, you had better hoist Billy Cheeks up at once; he is not exactly a skeleton, and, no doubt, he would fill the place as well as any one else."

"No offence, Pepper, no offence, mate; it is a detail," said the carpenter.

"Then let it be a detail; and I care not who you hoist over us, so long as our head is neither expensive nor too highly gilded. But mind you, the lumber room must go."

They all agreed that this was a sensible way of looking at things, and to appease the cook, no doubt, they would there and then have lightened the ship by flinging over the whole of the Buccaneer's House of Lords, but the heavy tread of the watchman aft made them abandon the idea for the present; but as that ancient hereditary institution had fallen under the cook's displeasure, it was not likely that it could survive such a thing for long.

"What are we to do with our foreign relations?" asked the carpenter's mate.

"Ah! Chisel, my lad, you are coming to the front," said the carpenter.

"What have we to do with foreign relations?" the cook asked. "Let them mind their own business, and we will mind ours."

"The unfortunate thing is," said the butcher, "that they won't mind their own business; no people will." The butcher gave another start and declared he heard the mysterious sound at the back of the galley.

"Well, Billy!" the carpenter exclaimed, "for a big man, you have about the smallest heart of any man I ever met."

Thus did the conspirators settle the affairs of the Buccaneer's nation. But now another and most unmistakable sound saluted their ears. A cock crowed loud and long. It is a well-known fact that neither spirits nor conspirators can stand this sort of thing. "Ah!" cried the carpenter, "there goes the shrill herald of the morn." Conspirators generally speak in this florid manner. "The day has returned too soon. You have much to answer for, Billy; for by your incessant interruptions you have squandered our precious time. But no matter. My lads, one little thing before we part. We shall want money. We cannot get on without the needful. It is money that makes the old mare go."

"I have a scheme here," cried the cook, "of raising the necessary wind."

"Quick, Pepper, my man, where is that lamp of yours you are so fond of flaunting before the eyes of people in the broad light of day. The torch of Truth you call it."

"Ah! Master Chips, the light of that lamp is only shed on other people's business. It would never do here."

It could never for a moment be supposed that these conspirators had not their dark lanterns; and presently one was produced from the ample folds of somebody's cloak, and they all stooped down as the cook unrolled his plan and the light from the dark lantern fell upon the eager faces of Billy Cheeks, the carpenter, his mate, and the cook.

"Time, mates, is short, so I come to the point. This is a bill of sale."

"So, so, a bill of sale," they all said in a low tone as they eyed the piece of paper.

"We will have an auction," said the cook; "our foreign relations we have decided to let go; for we get more kicks than half-pence from them; but our colonies we will sell."

"Ha, ha!" laughed the butcher, hoarsely; "mind they don't sell you."

"At it again, Billy," said the cook; "but it shows you're recovering from your nervous attack. Lot No. 1. The Buccaneer's well-known property of India. A rich possession comprizing over 200,000,000 of faithful subjects, together with forts and garrisons fully armed and equipped, and a most lucrative trade."

"The Eastern Bandit no doubt will bid for that lot or perhaps he'll take it," said the carpenter's mate.

"Proceed, Pepper," cried the carpenter.

"That cock won't fight," remarked the butcher. "You don't suppose our master will allow his dusky princess to be bought or taken by his old enemy, the Bandit."

"Go on, Pepper," cried the carpenter; "Billy's state of health is rapidly improving. Haste, my lad, for the silver foot of day is advancing. In a short time his eye will be over yonder house-tops, and if he looks upon us plotting in the cook's caboose, then farewell to our plan and perhaps to our liberty as well."

"Lot 2. Egypt. We may expect bidders for that country and 'caveat emptor' say I. That is a country replete with articles of virtu, the only thing is to find them. It is the proud possessor of an ancient history. With this lot will go a discontented, harassed and poverty-stricken people, and one or more high military reputations, and may the devil fly away with the whole lot, say I. There are a few others—things scarcely worth mentioning—such as the royal robes, crown jewels, and other court paraphernalia."

Here the discussion was suddenly put a stop to by the butcher, who gave such a start that he knocked the carpenter's mate up against the cook, who in turn nearly overturned Chips. The lantern was upset and the light was put out.

"What the devil is up now!" cried the cook, recovering himself.

"I saw it again," said the butcher, in a terrified whisper. They all pitied the butcher and declared that he was, without exception, about as uncomfortable a member of a conspiracy as could possibly be found. There was something almost uncanny about his behaviour, and no doubt less doughty men would have been scared. It was now too late to continue with their plans. They one and all said that the scheme was good and wanted scarcely for anything except the carrying of it out, which they agreed was a mere matter of detail. They complimented the cook upon his suggested method of raising the necessary wind. They were all very well pleased one with another, and as the carpenter dismissed them, he said: "Bless ye, my lads! Away to your bunks, my honest fellows. The silver king treads close upon the heels of the sable queen, so away and snatch a few hours of repose. Then arise and buckle to your work. Mix well amongst the people ashore. Sow broadcast the seeds of discontent, and so prepare the way for action. The womb of time is big with great events. Be civil, my mates, to the wild Ojabberaways, for at times it is necessary to hold the candle to the devil himself. If we do not square them, the other watch will."

"The greedy office grabbers," cried the cook, "will leave no stone unturned to get the helm; but we must dish them. For my part I have always found the Ojabberaways a merry and clever lot of gentlemanly devils."

"To their many wants then," exclaimed the carpenter, "lend a kindly ear; but keep your own counsel. Be thrifty of your words unless you use them as our noble captain does, to conceal your thoughts. Away then, my lads! What, does no one move? It is too late for ghosts to prowl about, and of other things what have you to fear?"

"Who is afraid, Master Chips?" the cook asked indignantly, "I was only thinking."

"Vast heaving, my hearties, while the cook thinks," cried the carpenter. "In the meantime I will take a look round, the watchman may be about." Chips drew his cloak round him and pulled his slouched hat well down over his eyes; then with the stealthy walk peculiar to conspirators he took a look round. Just as he reached the back of the cook's galley, he heard what sounded like a splash in the water. It made him start; and his heart beat hard against his side, his hair stood on end, and he had to lean against the water-butt for support. "Pshaw!" he cried as he shivered in the chill morning air, "I am getting as bad as Billy Cheeks." The look-out man from aloft cried out, "All's well." Thus reassured, the carpenter told his companions that the coast was clear, so with cloaks well wrapped round them and hats well slouched they sneaked away to their beds.