"Who does?"
"The man they call the Gentleman—the Galloping Gentleman."
"Who told you?"
"I picked it up, listening to the riding-officer."
The old man cocked an eye over his shoulder at the boy.
"I keep on a-listinin for that sir," he said. "Reck'n I'm hard o hearin."
He resumed his study of the face on the bulk-head. A long while he gazed: then smacked one fist into the other.
"That gal!" he muttered. "I always know'd how it'd be," and turned at last.
Taking the paper from the boy, he packed it into the scent-bottle.
"When I've laid this here in Nelson's hands," he said deliberately,
"I'll be ready to say what your father said aboord the Don."