At the end of that time, Falgate, pronouncing himself tired, left Captain Barecolt with the flagon (which he did not propose to quit for another hour), and retired, taking care to close the door after him. His course, however, did not lie straight to bed; for, finding the worthy landlady locking up her spoons and ladles in her little parlour, he joined her there, and entered into conversation with her in a low and confidential tone. Their conference lasted a considerable time, and was carried on apparently with some reluctance by Mrs. White at first, but gradually became animated on her part also; and at length, when Falgate asked her, "You are quite sure she was buried there, and that what I tell you was on her coffin?"
"I'll take my oath of it," she replied; "I'll give it under my hand if you like."
"I wish you would, Mrs. White," answered the painter; and, receiving her promise that it should be done on the following day, he retired to bed.
Before we close this somewhat long chapter, it may be necessary to trace to a certain point the proceedings of our worthy friend O'Donnell; but we will do so very briefly. Having passed the sentinel in the court of the governor's house, he approached a small door at the side and knocked for admission. A servant appeared almost immediately; but, far from asking directly to speak with Sir John Hotham, he said, "Ah, Master Wilson! is Oliver within? I want a chat with him."
"Walk in, Master O'Donnell," replied the man, "and I will seek for him. He was with Sir John a moment ago."
O'Donnell wasted no more words, but entered in silence, and after having been kept for a minute or two in the dark passage, he was joined by Oliver, the governor's body-servant, as he was called, with a light. The two shook hands with great good-will, and Master Oliver drew his Irish friend into a little room on the left, where immediately O'Donnell produced two large, flat-sided, long-necked bottles from under his cloak, and setting one down on the table he said, "That's for you, Noll, and this is some gout-cordial for the governor, which will soon send all his ailments away."
"God grant it!" replied the man, "for he is in a devil of a humour. Shall I take it to him, Master O'Donnell? Many thanks for the good stuff!"
"Welcome, welcome!" replied his companion: "but you must get me speech of Sir John this very night, for I have got a dozen bottles of cinnamon, such as you never tasted in your days, and a gentleman in the town wants them. So I promised to give him an answer before I went to bed, but thought it only dutiful to talk to the governor about them first, in case he should like any."
"Ah! he'll talk about that," replied the servant, "though he won't talk of anything else. Come up with me to his door, and we'll soon see if he'll speak with you. Bring your bottle with you. That's as good as a pass."
"Better sometimes," replied O'Donnell, drily; and following the servant up-stairs and into the better part of the house, he was kept for a moment or two in the corridor, and then admitted into the presence of Sir John Hotham.