"Ay, here I be."—It was 'Bias's turn to step out from the shadow of his doorway into the broad moonlight. "And glad enough to hear this news."
"Would ye do me a favour? . . . Dressed, are you?"
"Ay—been sittin' up latish to-night."
"Well, I'm not azackly in a condition to step down—not for a minute or two; and I doubt Mrs Bowldler, if I called her, wouldn' be in no condition either. . . . 'Twould be friendly of you to ask Mr Benny in and offer him a drink; and as for missy—"
"No thank 'ee, Cap'n," interposed Mr Benny. "Bringin' you this peace o' mind has been cordial enough for me—and for the child too, I reckon, Good-night, gentlemen!"
"Cap'n Hunken," said Fancy, "will you take the papers up to him?
Then we'll go."
"May I bring the papers to 'ee?" asked 'Bias, lifting his face to the window.
"Ay, do—if they won't come in. . . . I'll step down and unbar the door."
He lit a candle and hurried downstairs, his heart in his mouth. By the time he had unbarred and opened, Mr Benny and Fancy had taken their departure; but their "good-nights" rang back to him, up the moonlit road, and his friend stood on the threshold.