Seeing a decanter of wine on the table, he helped himself to a large tumbler-full, and tossed it off, saying,
“Ah! who wouldn’t be an East India merchant to have such sack as that? Ah! d—nd fine stuff for a dusty day.”
“Your name, sir?” the old merchant inquired impatiently.
“My name! eh? Ah! just so,” he replied indifferently, and with much composure pouring out another glass of wine. “My name, sir, is Captain Jack, and yours is Mr. Redgill, I think; here’s health to you, old boy!”
“And your business, here?” said the merchant, amazed at the coolness of his vulgar visitor.
“My business! eh? Well, if you want to know, I’m one of the most active, zealous, and valiant officers the Crown can boast; and as to catching rogues, vagabonds, and cut-throats, there isn’t my equal in all the kingdom. I’ve only got one fault, and that is, I love the bottle.”
“All this has nothing to do with me, sir!” said the old merchant, getting red in the face with anger. “Your business here, I demand again?”
“Don’t get frothy, my old friend!” said Captain Jack, “I’m coming to that now.”
“And what is it, pray?”
“I’ll just tell you,” said Captain Jack, “but as we don’t want any intruders, I may as well lock the door.”