My grandfather looked at her sharply. "Well," he said, "what is it?"
"In regards to a man as sold you a watch las' night——"
"No," Grandfather Nat interrupted with angry decision, "he didn't."
"Beg pardon, sir, jesso sir—'course not; which I mean to say 'e sold it to a man near to your 'ouse. Is it brought true as that party—not meanin' you, sir, 'course not, but the party in the street near your 'ouse—is it brought true as that party'll buy somethink more—somethink as I needn't tell now, sir, p'raps, but somethink spoke of between that party an' the other party—I mean the party as sold it, an' don't mean you, sir, 'course not?"
It was plain that the woman, who had begun in trepidation, was confused and abashed the more by the hard frown with which Captain Nat regarded her. The frown persisted for some moments; and then my grandfather said: "Don't know what you mean. If somebody bought anything of a friend o' yours, an' your friend wants to sell him something else, I suppose he can take it to him, can't he? And if it's any value, there's no reason he shouldn't buy it, so far as I know." And Grandfather Nat strode on.
The woman murmured some sort of acknowledgment, and fell back, and in a moment I had forgotten her; though I remembered her afterward, for good reason enough.
In fact, it was no later than that evening. I was sitting in the bar-parlour with Grandfather Nat, who had left the bar to the care of the potman. My grandfather was smoking his pipe, while I spelled and sought down the narrow columns of Lloyd's List for news of my father's ship. It was my grandfather's way to excuse himself from reading, when he could, on the plea of unsuitable eyes; though I suspect that, apart from his sight, he found reading a greater trouble than he was pleased to own.
"There's nothing here about the Juno, Grandfather Nat," I said. "Nothing anywhere."
"Ah," said my grandfather, "La Guaira was the last port, an' we must keep eyes on the list for Barbadoes. Maybe the mail's late." Most of Lloyd's messages came by mail at that time. "Let's see," he went on; "Belize, La Guaira, Barbadoes"; and straightway began to figure out distances and chances of wind.
Grandfather Nat had been considering whether or not we should write to my father to tell him that my mother was dead, and he judged that there was little chance of any letter reaching the Juno on her homeward passage.