With the idea of putting Mr. Duckett at his ease he talked on
various matters as they walked, and, arrived at Dialstone Lane, even
stopped to point out the picturesque appearance its old houses made in
the moonlight.
"This is where the old pirate who made the map lives," he whispered, as
he reached the door. "If he's got anything to say I'll tackle him about
that. Now, pull yourself together!"
He knocked loudly on the door with his fist. A murmur of voices stopped
suddenly, and, in response to a gruff command from within, he opened the
door and stood staring at all three of his victims, who were seated at
the table playing whist with Captain Bowers.
The three gentlemen stared back in return. Tredgold and Chalk had half
risen from their seats; Mr. Stobell, with both arms on the table, leaned
forward, and regarded him open-mouthed.
"Good evening, gentlemen all," said Captain Brisket, in a hearty voice.
He stepped forward, and seizing Mr. Chalk's hand wrung it fervently.
"It's good for sore eyes to see you again, sir," he said. "Look at him,
Peter!"
Mr. Duckett, ignoring this reflection on his personal appearance, stepped
quietly inside the door, and stood smiling nervously at the company.
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