Lord Hastings confronted the sailor.
“Your name?” he demanded.
“Thompson, sir,” was the reply, and the man let fall his arms, which he had kept above his head when he entered.
Immediately Frank’s revolver flashed forth.
“Hands up there, Thompson,” he said quietly.
Plainly frightened, Thompson obeyed.
“How long have you been in the service?” demanded Lord Hastings.
“Ten years, sir.”
“Ever known by any other name?”
“No, sir.”