Upon returning to the city, M. T. Pate met with a misfortune, which gave him sad affliction when he afterwards came to reflect upon his folly. He had throughout the whole course of his life been a very temperate man, and on Sundays was exceedingly pious. But he and Hercules were now seduced by a party of dissolute fellows, who kept them in a state of inebriation for several days. In fact, Hercules got profoundly intoxicated, and continued in that condition until he was carried on board the ship when she was about to sail; while Pate became boisterous and broke a number of goblets and decanters, and even challenged the proprietor of the hotel to a pugilistic combat. The latter earnestly implored the interposition of Toney Belton, who, upon going to Pate's room, found him standing in the midst of a number of boon-companions, with a bottle in his grasp, making as much noise as was possible by bellowing forth the following bacchanalian melody:

When this song was concluded, Toney began to express his astonishment at Pate's conduct, but his voice was soon drowned by several fellows loudly singing,—

"But, Mr. Pate, you will be sorry for this when——"

"Yes, this is fine fun," said Toney; "but after awhile you will have trouble, and——"

"By heavens, you ought to have a strait-jacket!" said Toney. "Ain't you a pretty picture?—standing there with your coat off and your breeches rent in the rear! I wish some of the ladies whom you used to be making love to could now see——"

"Pate, you'll be singing another song to-morrow, when——"

"You are as crazy as a bedlamite!" exclaimed Toney, "When you come to your senses, you will consider this the greatest misfortune that——"

"Well, go ahead!" said Toney, turning on his heels. "Go ahead, if you think there is no hereafter——"

Pate continued to conduct himself in this outrageous manner, notwithstanding the repeated and earnest remonstrances of his friends, until the morning on which the vessel was to sail, when the Professor found him, with a rueful countenance, sitting on the stool of repentance. They proceeded to the office of the hotel to settle their bills.

In Brazil they have an imaginary coin, corresponding to the mill of our decimal currency, in which, when making out a bill, they compute the amount, putting before the sum charged the identical mark which is prefixed to the Federal dollar, so that a stranger, whose debit is ten dollars, sees on the bill $10.000. The Professor was aware of this mode of computation, but M. T. Pate was not. The latter was therefore utterly astounded when his bill was handed to him, and he saw charged on it $55.000. Pate turned deadly pale when he perceived the heavy sum he was expected to pay; and Toney and the Professor took him aside and told him that, while so dreadfully intoxicated, he had broken and destroyed much valuable property in the hotel, and that the damage was charged in the bill. Pate was now shocked at the consequences of his indiscretion, and exclaimed,—

"Oh, that a man should be such a fool!"

"As to put an enemy in his mouth to steal away his brains," said the Professor.

"What am I to do?" cried Pate.

"Pay the bill," said Toney.

"I cannot. It is impossible for me to pay so large a sum of money," said Pate.

"I am sorry for that," said the Professor. "In Brazil there is imprisonment for debt."

"What?" exclaimed Pate, in extreme terror.

"There is imprisonment for debt in this country," said the Professor; "and if you do not pay the bill, the proprietor of the hotel will have you put in the calaboose."

"Where you may have to remain during your whole life," said Toney.

"Oh! oh!" cried Pate, looking as pale as a ghost. "What—what shall I do?"

"Get the money and pay the bill," said Toney.

"I cannot—I cannot!" said Pate, perspiring from every pore.

"This is a great calamity," said the Professor. "Only to think of a man having to spend, perhaps, forty years of his life in prison!"

"To end his days in a dungeon!" said Toney, sadly.

"Gentlemen—gentlemen! what—what shall I do?" exclaimed Pate, groaning piteously.

"Toney," said the Professor, "an expedient suggests itself to my mind, but I am doubtful of its propriety."

"What is it?" asked Toney.

"Do you think that it would be morally wrong for Mr. Pate to take French leave?"

"I do not," said Toney. "He cannot pay the bill, and unless he escapes as speedily as possible he may have to die in prison. A man may do anything to preserve his liberty. Besides, when Mr. Pate returns from California with his gold, he can stop at Rio and pay the bill."

"I will! I will!" exclaimed Pate. "I will pay every dollar of it!"

"Come here, Mr. Pate," said the Professor. And he and Toney conducted him to the street and pointed towards the harbor.

"Run!" said the Professor.

"Run!—run!" exclaimed Toney.

"Run, Pate!—run!" cried Tom Seddon, who had followed them out.

The delinquent debtor looked around to see if his ruthless creditor was watching him, and then darted down the street and ran at full speed until he reached the water's edge, when he leaped into a boat, and told the men to row as fast as they could for the ship. In the mean while Toney and the Professor returned to the office of the hotel and quietly settled the bill with the contents of Pate's purse, which they had taken from his pocket while he was intoxicated, and still retained in their possession for safe keeping.

When M. T. Pate came near the ship, he beheld the extraordinary spectacle of a human body rising from the surface of the water and hanging high in the air, with its arms and legs desperately striking out, as if seeking to test, by a practical experiment, the possibility of swimming in that uncertain element. After dangling over the deck for a short space of time, it disappeared behind the bulwarks.

Pate witnessed the awful spectacle with a feeling of intense horror.

"Great heavens!" he exclaimed, "has the captain taken upon himself the responsibility of ordering an execution? What a daring exercise of arbitrary power! It is dangerous to go on board! The brutal tyrant might hang any of his passengers!"

He was about to order the men to row back to the shore when he recollected the danger which there awaited him. He was between Scylla and Charybdis. In the mean while the Brazilian boatmen, who, with their backs towards the ship and their ignorance of the English language, neither witnessed the startling phenomenon nor understood the meaning of Pate's exclamation, vigorously plied their oars, and soon brought the boat to the vessel's side. Pale with terror and trembling in every joint, Pate looked up and beheld a number of passengers on deck laughing immoderately. Their mirth convinced him that no tragedy had been enacted, and he went on board where he learned that Hercules had been captured on shore and brought alongside lying in the boat in a helpless condition superinduced by inebriation. A perplexing consultation among his captors was cut short by Old Nick, who, having made ready a rope, leaped into the boat, and putting a stout band around the body of the giant, hooked on,—and up he went, with his imperfectly articulated maledictions mingling with the hearty "Heave ho!" of Peter and Paul, who were hoisting him on deck.

Thus was Hercules held up as an example to all evildoers; and when the Professor reached the ship, and was informed of the circumstance, he gravely remarked that men who were so imprudent as to indulge in the excessive use of strong drinks would sometimes become wonderfully elevated.