When she had returned home and disappeared within the house, he rose up and rowed over to Old Duck.
“Good afternoon, sir.”
“Guid afternoon.”
The light-keeper began to haul up his lamp, with an unlubricated sound that did not encourage conversation, but turned his head long enough to reveal a small blue eye and a yellow spray of beard. Then he looked back and aloft.
“I am camping down below, and my name is Mahan.”
“Glad to meet ye, Mr. Mahan.”
“Mr. Keeper, you have just received ten dollars, haven’t you?”
The official fastened his halyards and turned round.
“’Tis a fine afternoon, and my name is Gillies.”
“Mr. Gillies, I want you to find some way of putting that money back in her kitchen.”