 him that
he was naturally of a maritime build, before the Midshipman was abandoned by
them all; and Bunsby whispering that he'd carry on smart, and hail Ned Cuttle
again before he went aboard, shut the door upon himself, as the last member of
the party.
    Some uneasy ideas that he must be walking in his sleep, or that he had been
troubled with phantoms, and not a family of flesh and blood, beset the Captain
at first, when he went back to the little parlour, and found himself alone.
Illimitable faith in, and immeasurable admiration of, the Commander of the
Cautious Clara, succeeded, and threw the Captain into a wondering trance.
    Still, as time wore on, and Bunsby failed to reappear, the Captain began to
entertain uncomfortable doubts of another kind. Whether Bunsby had been artfully
decoyed to Brig Place, and was there detained in safe custody as hostage for his
friend; in which case it would become the Captain, as a man of honour, to
release him, by the sacrifice of his own liberty. Whether he had been attacked
and defeated by Mrs. MacStinger, and was ashamed to show himself after his
discomfiture. Whether Mrs. MacStinger, thinking better of it, in the uncertainty
of her temper, had turned back to board the Midshipman again, and Bunsby,
pretending to conduct her by a short cut, was endeavouring to lose the family
amid the wilds and savage places of the City. Above all, what it would behove
him, Captain Cuttle, to do, in case of his hearing no more, either of the
MacStingers or of Bunsby, which, in these wonderful and unforeseen conjunctions
of events, might possibly happen.
    He debated all this until he was tired; and still no Bunsby. He made up his
bed under the counter, all ready for turning in; and still no Bunsby. At length,
when the Captain had given him up, for that night at least, and had begun to
undress, the sound of approaching wheels was heard, and, stopping at the door,
was succeeded by Bunsby's hail.
    The Captain trembled to think that Mrs. MacStinger was not to be got rid of,
and had been brought back in a coach.
    But no. Bunsby was accompanied by nothing but a large box, which he hauled
into the shop with his own hands, and as soon as he had hauled in, sat upon.
Captain Cuttle knew it for the chest he had left at Mrs. MacStinger's house, and
looking, candle in hand, at Bunsby more attentively, believed
