"Oh, just shipmates."
"Of yours?"
"No, of Master Silver's."
"What are their names?"
"I know not."
"Oh, come now, Darby!"
"Well, the one he calls Bill Bones and the other Black Dog—but there's no meaning in nature in that last."
Silver had disappeared through a door at the rear in company with one of the drawers, and now he came swinging in again on his crutch, ahead of a tall, lantern-jawed man in a rich dress of black-and-silver, whose gold-hilted sword claimed the gentleman. This man Silver ushered to me with a crudely hearty courtesy.
"Here's luck, Master Ormerod," he called when he was within earshot. "My friend had heard tell the colonel was above-stairs. This here's the young gentleman I spoke of, your honor. My duty to ye both, sirs, and always pleased to serve."
And off he swung on his crutch again to be received with acclamations by his cronies in the corner.