Arriving on the shores of his nearest neighbour, Madame France, the Buccaneer landed, and as he intended to make a few calls inland, he sent his yacht round to the Golden Horn with orders to await there his arrival.

The Buccaneer took off his hat and made his politest bow; but his reception was by no means as cordial as he had expected. As is well known by all those who have experienced it, there is nothing so freezing as the cold politeness of a haughty beauty. It requires more brazen effrontery than even old Dogvane had, to carry it off with a high handed dignity as if nothing was wrong. That Madame France was beautiful there could be no doubt, and she would have made the blood quicken in the veins of the most eminent saint, and as for a sinner! well, there is no use going into particulars.

It is more than probable that the charms of this lady were not lost upon either the Buccaneer or his trusty captain William Dogvane. Then, as if the devil was in it, Madame had added to her natural beauty, by calling in the assistance of every art. Her figure was neat and most attractive, and her dress left nothing to be desired. In her display of charms she was generous without being coarse and vulgar, and her short kirtle discovered the prettiest of ankles, and just enough of a well-shaped leg to be peculiarly attractive. Even old Bill felt young again and his eyes glistened with delight, and he was no less inclined to be gallant than his master, who for the time forgot the precept taught him by his religion about coveting other people's goods.

Having coldly acknowledged the salutation she turned her back upon her visitors and pouted her pretty lips. "Master Dogvane," said the Buccaneer addressing that worthy, "there is not much cordiality here."

"It beats me altogether, sir," the captain replied, "but there is no understanding women, and, as everyone knows, Madame here is peculiarly fickle and uncertain. They all seem to go by the rule of contrary. She is an arrant coquette I'll be bound; but, Master, what a pretty foot and what a lovely leg."

"Dogvane!" cried the Buccaneer as he gazed upon the attractions alluded to, "you forget yourself." Then addressing the haughty beauty he said, "Madame, in what have I been so unfortunate as to meet with your displeasure? It is many years now since we had any cause for quarrel and all old wounds I trust are healed, and as I bear no malice, Madame, I hope you bear none. How then have I displeased you?"

"Monsieur, your memory methinks is short. Was I not set upon and beaten? Was I not hurt and bleeding? Was I not struck down until I bit the dust, and you never held out a hand to help me? Monsieur, my memory is better, I do not forget, I never shall."

"Oh! damn these violent memories!" exclaimed Dogvane aside.

"But, Madame, that is now an old old story," the Buccaneer replied. "Is it right to carry resentment so far? Is it acting up to the religion that we both profess?"

"Monsieur's reputation for piety is extremely great," said his fair neighbour, while a sneer played round her pretty mouth; she then added, "An injury, Monsieur, is never old."

"Madame!" cried the Buccaneer still wishing to appease, "you had my extreme sympathy."

"Sympathy!" cried Madame France, "sympathy! of what avail is that against battalions?"

"I dressed your wounds, I attended your sick and I sent you money, lint, and plaster."

"Sent me money!" exclaimed Madame France scornfully. Then suddenly changing her manner to a tone of polite sarcasm she said, "Pardon, Monsieur! I had forgotten, yes, you sent me money. It must have been a great sacrifice for you to part with what you love so well. The shopkeeper does not like to drain his till, even for a friend in need. I beg Monsieur's pardon a thousand times. I did not too fully appreciate his kindness. I have not sufficiently thanked my mercantile neighbour. Permit me, Monsieur," she said with a profound curtsey, "to thank you for your extravagant consideration and extreme sympathy."

The Buccaneer was going to reply; but Dogvane, fearing a storm, almost dragged his master away. "But this is not as it should be, Dogvane. It is not right."

As they went away Madame France muttered something, but the only word that reached the Buccaneer was "perfidious." This was an old retort.

"This is not right, Master Dogvane!" he cried.

"Decidedly wrong, sir. The grossest piece of ingratitude I have ever experienced. Ah! we can plainly see, she has not forgiven you for remaining neutral in her last row with her burly neighbour inland. But a stale page of history is that."

"Master Dogvane, even a woman's resentment cannot last too long. There must be something else. Have you, Master Dogvane, been doing anything to put her out?"

"I can tax my memory with nothing, sir; but the other watch, who can tell what they've been up to? Softly, my master, softly. For heaven's sake come away. Say nothing to increase her anger. The least said, soonest mended. Is she not fair to look upon?" added Dogvane looking back as did Lot's wife. "What ripe lips!"

"What has that to do with it?"

"Nothing, sir, nothing; what a lovely foot! what an ankle too! what a comely leg!"

"What the devil, I say again, has that to do with it?" cried the Buccaneer.

"Nothing, sir, nothing. I merely ventured the remark that she was comely. No doubt that other watch have been at their handiwork. Master, you are a bit too brusque in your manner. Women don't like it; if you had flattered more, you would have pleased more. You should have praised her beauty; gone into an ecstasy of delight over her many charms. Do you not think, sir, that the kirtle was an inch or two too long?"

The Buccaneer turned sharply upon his captain and rebuked him, told him plainly that although he was captain of his watch, he had no business to cast eyes upon his fair neighbour. Then he said, "She quarrelled with a friend of mine, and you are for ever telling me that I ought not to interfere, in things that don't concern me."

"You acted in that little affair, sir, like an upright, honest, gentleman; but do what you will you cannot please everyone. You did your best to prevent a row and you could do no more. But that is not where the shoe pinches. The other watch no doubt, the other watch. Let her alone, my master, to cool. When a woman is enraged, there is no arguing with her. No doubt some domestic trouble has disturbed her. She has always something on. Ah! I see it now," exclaimed Dogvane stopping short. "Some time ago she went in largely for old china and we all know that is an expensive luxury and probably the bill was larger than she expected. There are a thousand little things, trifles as light as air, in every household, that though hidden from the eye of the casual observer, help to ruffle the temper even of the most amiable woman. Did you notice, sir, her well turned ankle and shapely leg?" The old Buccaneer either did not hear, or did not approve of Dogvane's continued allusion to Madame France's charms. The captain, thinking he was still grieving over his cold reception, sought to console him by saying, "What though Madame France be cold and turn her back upon you, I feel confident that the island of Sark is with you to a man."

"The island of Sark!" exclaimed the Buccaneer in astonishment, "what has that to do with it?"

"Everything, sir," replied Dogvane. "For the island of Sark if not actually France is very near to it; and the moral support of such a place is not to be despised."

The Buccaneer seemed lost in meditation, from which he was only aroused by Dogvane exclaiming: "Ah! here we are, sir, at the door of your worthy German cousin, with whom you are allied by blood, by the holy bonds of wedlock, and by religion."

The mighty Von was sitting outside, in his garden overlooking the waters that divided him from his beautiful neighbour. He had a tankard by his side and a pipe in his mouth, for he was a great smoker.

The Buccaneer found that his reception here was scarcely more cordial than what it had been elsewhere. "Have I in any way done my worthy friend an injury?" the Buccaneer asked, turning to Dogvane.

"God forbid, sir, that you should do any man an injury," was the reply. "It has been my constant endeavour to keep you at peace with all men." This perhaps was true, but the result was not satisfactory.

"Give me an honest grip of thy friendly hand, neighbour," the Buccaneer exclaimed, as he held out his. The Von held out his but there was nothing hearty in the shake. "How is this, friend, thy grip used to be harder?" said the Buccaneer.

"Mein hand is mein own," replied the mighty Von.

"Tell me in what I have offended thee. If I have done thee an injury I will make amends. What, will my old friend not speak?"

"Mein counsel like mein hand is mein own, mein friend, and I keep them both."

"How do you account for this, Master Dogvane?" asked the Buccaneer, somewhat crestfallen.

"It is passing strange, sir, and I can only think that this is another piece of handiwork of the other watch. Their capacity for bungling is extremely great. But come away, sir. There is an old adage which says, 'it is ill to waken sleeping dogs.' It applies here." So saying he led his master away; but before they had gone very far Dogvane again stopped short. "Stay, I do remember there was some trivial dispute about a patch of barren land. Tut, tut, to think now that so great a friend should be affronted at such a trifle. The exact merits of the case have now escaped me; but as I was prepared to give way all round there need be no ill feeling on such a subject; only to think now—but there, some people are that touchy that there is no pleasing them." The captain now began to sing to an old well-known song, some words of his own—

"Dogvane, cease; this is no time to exercise your vocal powers. I have been a good friend to my German relations. I verily believe that I support half his army in the bands that are for ever braying out their discordant sounds in my streets. Then are not my own people constantly at me for employing my foreign relations to the prejudice of my own children? and with some show of justice too, for German bakers make my bread, German tailors make most of my clothes, and German Jews are constantly draining away my money. Do I not find royal wives for German princelets, and do I not dower them handsomely into the bargain? and yet they give me the cold shoulder in return. No matter who dances, Master Dogvane, it seems to me it is I who have to pay the piper. To one of my worthy friend's sons, poor fellow, I begrudged nothing, for he was a king of kings and a fine manly fellow, and one who will never die."

"Marriage, my master, often severs families instead of uniting them. This only bears out what I am constantly telling you, and that is to have as little as possible to do with your relations. But, master, a good deal of what we call ingratitude in others is due to faults in ourselves. We start by expecting more than we deserve, and are disappointed when we only get our deserts; but, of course, we never think of putting the saddle on the right back."

Our two travellers, weary, thirsty, and dust-stained, now came to Austria, and were in hopes of getting a more friendly reception; such a one, in fact, that would justify them in staying there and breaking bread and drinking a flagon of wine for the sake of good fellowship. But no, Dogvane had managed to tread upon the toes of Austria, and had got himself disliked even here. He swore it was a part of that terrible inheritance he had received over from the other watch. According to his own account, no man was ever so unfortunate.

Dogvane now entered upon a most lengthy and learned explanation upon the quality of gratitude, and what he said upon such a matter would deserve the greatest consideration, but weightier things still, attended upon their footsteps.

A messenger arrived post haste to say, that information had been received through the proper official channel, that the great Bandit of the East was behaving himself in an altogether unaccountable and strange manner. In fact, that he had broken into one Abdur's garden, and was playing, what was called in unofficial language general, Old Harry, there.

"Here is another of your confounded foreign relations cropping up," said Dogvane to himself.

"How about this, Master Dogvane?" exclaimed the Buccaneer.

"Why, this sort of thing, sir, has been going on for ages, and it is nothing more nor less than a party trick of the other watch, at the bottom of which, no doubt, is that mischievous young imp, Random Jack. I have myself frequently asked the Eastern Bandit about these unsavoury reports, and his smile was childlike and bland as he replied, that if anything was going on wrong, he knew nothing about it. He is a truthful and a Christian man and would not tell a lie, not for the whole Empire of India. At least, if he would, I have no official information upon the subject."

"Well, Master Dogvane, the readiest way to set the matter at rest is to go and see for ourselves."

"That would be a most undignified proceeding, sir. You cannot expect foreign nations to respect you if you go and poke your nose into other people's dustbins. Besides, sir, it would be a most unconstitutional thing; and before undertaking it, we at least ought to retrace our steps home and set the official mind at work to find out a precedent. Then if such a thing can be found, which I very much doubt, we will at once proceed to the scene of action, and throw the light of our official eye upon the Eastern Bandit, who, no doubt, being dazzled and frightened by such an unusual occurrence, will fear some revolution of nature, and so retire to his own ground."

"Master Dogvane, the official coach is far too slow for an occasion like this. We can walk the distance very much quicker, so set thy face to the East and march. And on our way we will pay the honest Turk a visit."

"Oh lord!" exclaimed Dogvane to himself, "here is another kettle of fish. Sir, are we not tired, hungry, and thirsty? And the weather is much too warm for such a journey. But, if go we must, gallivanting about in the East, we shall save a little, sir, if we leave this Turk on our right hand."

"Master Dogvane, the Turk is a friend of mine. We have fought side by side against the Eastern Bandit, and may be we shall have to do so again. I will therefore pay my respects to him."

"I would kick him bag and baggage out of Europe if I had my way," muttered old Dogvane.

The Buccaneer found the head of the Moslem world pensively smoking his chibouck. "Ah!" said he, "you, at least, my honest friend, will not turn your back upon me. I have at least you to fall back upon."

"Monsieur, I salute you," said the Turk with extreme politeness. "When you want to get anything out of me you call me friend and honest Turk; when you do not, I am a rogue, a vagabond, and little better than a barbarian. A while since, and your captain was for kicking me, bag and baggage, out of Europe." Dogvane was a little taken aback at having been overheard, but he soon recovered himself and was ready to argue that if his words were taken properly they could bear no such signification.

The Buccaneer was so taken by surprise that he could not speak, while Dogvane, shading his eyes with his hand, cast a look towards the beautiful Golden Horn, to see if the yacht was there, for he was weary of travelling, and had become what is called home-sick, and had he never had to consider things abroad, the chances are it would have been very much better for his reputation, and for that of his master. He said, "What is the use of your meandering in foreign parts, sir, you have a nice, snug, well-feathered little nest in the Western Ocean, where everything smiles upon you. There lies your yacht; then let us aboard: weigh anchor, and make for the rosy bed of the setting sun."

The Turk interrupted: "It suits your purpose, mon ami," he said, addressing the Buccaneer, "to seek my friendship now. But the honest Turk was not born yesterday, and he is very much more than seven, so he allies himself with those who will not cast him off when they have no further need of him."

This roused the suspicions of the Buccaneer. "Whatever you do," he cried, "do not ally yourself with the Eastern Bandit. Give him a wide berth or he will pluck you to your last feather."

"An open enemy," replied the Turk, "is better than a treacherous friend. Pat my back to-day; kick—but no matter, Allah is good! There is but one God, and Mohammed is his prophet."

"Treacherous friend," ejaculated the Buccaneer, turning to the captain. "Does the Turk call me treacherous, Master Dogvane?"

"Heaven forbid such a thing, sir! The Turk merely made a general remark, which in the abstract no doubt is true. But, master, leave the Turk alone. If you do not come speedily away he will borrow of you for a certainty."

"But he has been my friend, Master Dogvane, for these many years."

"True, sir; and you have treated him more kindly than you usually do your friends, whom you occasionally fall out with; even coming to blows at times. But the Turk's friendship, good master, is of a costly kind. He is a ready borrower, but a tardy payer. Look at the money he has spent in riotous living? Honest enough, no doubt; but as he is always out at elbows he cannot afford to indulge in such a luxury. A needy friend, good master, is a constant source of annoyance; for when poverty comes, pride goes, and your friend soon sinks into the degraded position of a most importunate and shameless beggar."

"I do not like to turn my back upon a friend just because he is down in the world, Master Dogvane."

"The feeling does you credit; it is noble; but, good sir, we must draw a line, lest at any time we give countenance to vice. We often deceive ourselves, and act as we think, generously, either out of idleness or fear, lest the babbling world should condemn us for want of kindness to those in need. God forbid that you should forsake a friend because he is down! But when a man has brought his suffering and misfortunes upon himself, then, good master, sympathy is bestowed upon a worthless object. Why should you assist one who will not help himself? Who so long as he can borrow will spend? The Turk will not live within his means, and you have found, sir, that you cannot enjoy his friendship without paying heavily for it." With reflections like these Dogvane led his master away, and the Turk watched their retreating steps with half-closed eyes; but yet he was not asleep; but the precise nature of his thoughts cannot, for obvious reasons, be disclosed.

"Oh for a sniff of the fresh sea air!" cried Dogvane, as he looked wistfully towards the ocean. "To feel yourself once more afloat, master, with your empire beneath your feet, and your good little ship dancing merrily to the music of the waves, would make a different man of you."

"Aye, aye, Master Dogvane, perhaps it would; but I have other fish to fry just at present. Those were merry days when I ploughed the seas in search of adventure, and it all comes back to me like a dream. I fancy I hear now the clack, clack of my many windlasses; the yo! heave-ho! of my merry men, as they sheeted home their sails, and mast-headed their yards. The brave sea fights; the brilliant actions of my lads; the sinking of the enemy's ships, all, all comes back upon me. I fancy I can see my merry men, pike in hand, swarming over the ship's sides, while we poured in broadsides muzzle to muzzle. I almost hear their shouts. They strike, they strike, Dogvane, while our colours still fly proudly over us, nailed to the mast. See the ocean blurred with their life's blood. Ah! it is past, Dogvane, it is past. Lend me thy shoulder, man, lend me thy shoulder, for my eyes are dim. Alas! they are clouded by memory. Are those good old days gone, never, never to return?"

Dogvane had learned from experience that when his master had on him one of these fits of despondency, the best thing to be done was to let him alone. He contented himself with saying, "Every age, my master, has its advantages. We cannot say that the spring is more beautiful than the summer, nor yet the summer than the autumn, while hoary-headed winter is not free from charms."