A little
chatter of voices at the end of the lane floated in at the open window,
mellowed by distance. His pipe was out, and he rose to search in the
gloom for a match, when another murmur of voices reached his ears from
the kitchen. He stood still and listened intently. To put matters
beyond all doubt, the shrill laugh of a girl was plainly audible. The
captain's face hardened, and, crossing to the fireplace, he rang the
bell.
"Yessir," said Joseph, as he appeared and closed the door carefully
behind him.
"What are you talking to yourself in that absurd manner for?" inquired
the captain with great dignity.
"Me, sir?" said Mr. Tasker, feebly.
"Yes, you," repeated the captain, noticing with surprise that the door
was slowly opening.
Mr. Tasker gazed at him in a troubled fashion, but made no reply.
"I won't have it," said the captain, sternly, with a side glance at the
door. "If you want to talk to yourself go outside and do it. I never
heard such a laugh. What did you do it for? It was like an old woman
with a bad cold."
He smiled grimly in the darkness, and then started slightly as a cough, a
hostile, challenging cough, sounded from the kitchen.
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