“I’ve business with Andrew McMunn myself,” said the sailor, “and I’m going that way.”
“Good. Then we’ll go together.”
“My name,” said the sailor, “is Ginty. If you’re intimate with Andrew McMunn you’ll likely have heard of me.”
“I haven’t. But that’s no reason why you shouldn’t show me the way.”
“It’s no that far,” said Ginty.
They walked together, sometimes side by side, sometimes driven apart by a string of carts.
“If it had been Jimmy McMunn you wanted to see,” said Ginty, “you might have had further to go. Some says Jimmy’s in the one place, and more is of opinion that he’s in the other. But I’ve no doubt in my own mind about where Andrew will go when his time comes.”
“You know him pretty well, then?”
“Ay, I do. It would be queer if I didn’t, seeing that I’ve sailed his ships this ten year. Andrew McMunn will go to heaven.”
“Ah,” said Lord Dunseverick, “he’s a good man, then?”