Blucher glanced at it and his countenance fell.

He took another look to assure himself that his senses had not deceived him and then read the items aloud, in a faltering voice, while the roses in his cheeks turned to ashes: "'Ten dinners, at 600 reis, 6,000 reis!' Ruin and desolation! "'Twenty-five cigars, at 100 reis, 2,500 reis!' Oh, my sainted mother! "'Eleven bottles of wine, at 1,200 reis, 13,200 reis!' Be with us all! "'TOTAL, TWENTY-ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED REIS!' The suffering Moses! There ain't money enough in the ship to pay that bill! Go--leave me to my misery, boys, I am a ruined community." I think it was the blankest-looking party I ever saw.

Nobody could say a word.

It was as if every soul had been stricken dumb.

Wine glasses descended slowly to the table, their contents untasted.