"I am not afraid," said the captain, and with another good-night he ascended the broad staircase to the apartments allotted to him.
Captain Murpoint was evidently an honored guest. The suite of rooms was of the best in the house, and beautifully furnished, the small dressing-room or boudoir exquisitely so.
As the captain opened the door of the dainty little nest a sturdy figure rose from the satin-covered couch and saluted him with a grin.
The captain set the candle down upon the unlaid table and walked to the window, which he threw open, then he turned to the sturdy figure and smiled.
"You don't look so ridiculous in your swallow tails as I should have thought, Jem—no, Starling I meant; but I'm afraid appearance is the least important attribute of a gentleman's servant. Help me off with this coat."
Mr. Starling, with a grave face, tugged at the coat rather clumsily.
"Gently," said the captain, "I don't want you to take my arms with it. That will do," and he sank into the chair before the glass and stared at the reflection of his face absorbed in thought.
Starling watched him in silence for a minute or two, then fidgeted restlessly, and at last spoke out:
"Well, captain, ain't you got a word for your humble pal? How's things going? Does the plant look well?"