'What tack?' says you. 'Never you mind,'
says I. If the worst comes to the worst, old Dan Coffin has a shot
left in his locker."
I took the key and ran. The alley where Captain Branscome lodged lay
a gunshot on this side of the Market Strand; and while I ran I kept--
as the saying is--my eyes skinned for a sight of the enemy.
The coast, however, was clear.
But at Captain Branscome's door a wholly unexpected disappointment
awaited me. It was locked, and I had not hammered on its shining
brass knocker before a neighbouring housewife put forth her head from
a window in the gathering dusk, and informed me that the captain was
not at home. He had gone out early in the afternoon, and left his
doorkey with her, saying that he was off on a visit, and would not
return before to-morrow afternoon at earliest. For a moment I was
tempted to disobey Captain Danny's injunctions, and fetch the money
myself, or at least make a bold attempt for it; but, recollecting how
earnestly he had charged me, and how cheerfully at the last he had
assured me that he had still a shot in his locker, I turned and
mounted the hill again, albeit dejectedly.
The moon was rising as I climbed over the stile into the footpath,
and, recognizing my footstep, the old man came forward to meet me,
out of the shadow on the western side of the windmill, to which he
had shifted his watch.
Pages:
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81