CHAPTER IV.

CAPTAIN HAMILTON MIGGS OF THE “BLACK EAGLE.”

The head of the firm had hardly recovered his mental serenity after the painful duty of explaining her financial position to the Widow Hudson, when his quick ear caught the sound of a heavy footstep in the counting-house.  A gruff voice was audible at the same time, which demanded in rather more energetic language than was usually employed in that orderly establishment, whether the principal was to be seen or not.  The answer was evidently in the affirmative, for the lumbering tread came rapidly nearer, and a powerful double knock announced that the visitor was at the other side of the door.

“Come in,” cried Mr. Girdlestone, laying down his pen.

This invitation was so far complied with that the handle turned, and the door revolved slowly upon its hinges.  Nothing more substantial than a strong smell of spirituous liquors, however, entered the apartment.

“Come in,” the merchant repeated impatiently.

At this second mandate a great tangled mass of black hair was slowly protruded round the angle of the door.  Then a copper-coloured forehead appeared, with a couple of very shaggy eyebrows and eventually a pair of eyes, which protruded from their sockets and looked yellow and unhealthy.  These took a long look, first at the senior partner and then at his surroundings, after which, as if reassured by the inspection, the remainder of the face appeared—­a flat nose, a large mouth with a lower lip which hung down and exposed a line of tobacco-stained teeth, and finally a thick black beard which bristled straight out from the chin, and bore abundant traces of an egg having formed part of its owner’s morning meal.  The head having appeared, the body soon followed it, though all in the same anaconda-like style of progression, until the individual stood revealed.  He was a stoutly-built sea-faring man, dressed in a pea jacket and blue trousers and holding his tarpaulin hat in his hand.  With a rough scrape and a most unpleasant leer he advanced towards the merchant, a tattoed and hairy hand outstretched in sign of greeting.

“Why, captain,” said the head of the firm, rising and grasping the other’s hand with effusion, “I am glad to see you back safe and well.”

“Glad to see ye, sir—­glad to see ye.”

His voice was thick and husky, and there was an indecision about his gait as though he had been drinking heavily.  “I came in sort o’ cautious,” he continued, “’cause I didn’t know who might be about.  When you and me speaks together we likes to speak alone, you bet.”

The merchant raised his bushy eyebrows a little, as though he did not relish the idea of mutual confidences suggested by his companion’s remark.  “Hadn’t you better take a seat?” he said.

The other took a cane-bottomed chair and carried it into the extreme corner of the office.  Then having looked steadily at the wall behind him, and rapped it with his knuckles, he sat down, still throwing an occasional apprehensive glance over his shoulder.  “I’ve got a touch of the jumps,” he remarked apologetically to his employer.  “I likes to know as there ain’t no one behind me.”