The next moment the bar was in a ferment, and the landlord, gripping Mr.Wilks round the middle, skilfully piloted him to the door and thrust him into the road.
[Illustration: "He took a glass from the counter and smashed it on the floor."] The strong air blowing from the sea disordered the steward's faculties still further.

His treatment inside was forgotten, and, leaning against the front of the tavern, he stood open-mouthed, gazing at marvels.

Ships in the harbour suddenly quitted their native element and were drawn up into the firmament; nobody passed but twins.
"Evening, Mr.Wilks," said a voice.
The steward peered down at the voice.

At first he thought it was another case of twins, but looking close he saw that it was Mr.Edward Silk alone.

He saluted him graciously, and then, with a wave of his hand toward the sky, sought to attract his attention to the ships there.
"Yes," said the unconscious Mr.Silk, sign of a fine day to-morrow.
"Are you going my way ?" Mr.Wilks smiled, and detaching himself from the tavern with some difficulty just saved Mr.Silk from a terrible fall by clutching him forcibly round the neck.