" "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. " The young woman laid a finger on her lips, cautioning O'Higgins to silence. His chest heaved violently, and big tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks. He was full of fabulous stories, not just tales of his own past in Rome but wonderful fables from the mysterious Orient and the ancient Greeks, old jokes and yarns that only he remembered. At other times, it would seem that the sea itself had gone away. He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table.
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