"It's him," said the staring Mr. Stobell, drawing a deep breath. "It's
Brisket."
He pushed his chair back and, rising slowly from the table, confronted
him. Captain Brisket, red-faced and confident, stared up at him
composedly.
"It's Brisket," said Mr. Stobell again, in a voice of deep content.
"Turn the key in that door, Chalk."
Mr. Chalk hesitated, but Brisket, stepping to the door, turned the key
and, placing it on the table, returned to his place by the side of the
mate. Except for a hard glint in his eye his face still retained its
smiling composure.
"And now," said Stobell, "you and me have got a word or two to say to
each other. I haven't had the pleasure of seeing your ugly face since--"
"Since the disaster," interrupted Tredgold, loudly and hastily.
"Since the----"
Mr. Stobell suddenly remembered. For a few moments he stood irresolute,
and then, with an extraordinary contortion of visage, dropped into his
chair again and sat gazing blankly before him.
"Me and Peter Duckett only landed to-day," said Brisket, "and we came on
to see you by the first train we could--"
"I know," said Tredgold, starting up and taking his hand, "and we're
delighted to see you are safe.
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