Piter’s was an ugly face; but the countenance of an ugly animal is pleasanter to look upon than that of an ugly degraded human being, and as I saw the rough stubbly jaws open, displaying some yellow and blackened teeth that glistened in the light as their owner yawned widely, I began to think our dog handsome by comparison.
The man growled as if not yet awake, and rubbed away at his eyes with his big fists, as if they, too, required a great deal of polishing to make them bright enough to see.
At last he dropped his fists and stared straight before him—no, that’s a mistake, he stared with the range of his eyes crossing, and then seemed to have some confused idea that there was a light before him, and a dog making a noise, for he growled out:
“Lie down!”
Then, bending forward, he swept an arm round, as if in search of something, which he caught hold of at last, and we understood why he was so confused. For it was a large stone bottle he had taken up. From this he removed the cork with a dull Fop! Raised the bottle with both hands, took a long draught, and corked the bottle again with a sigh, set it down beside him, and after yawning loudly shouted once more at the dog, “Get out! Lie down!”
Then he settled himself as if about to do what he had bidden the dog, but a gleam of intelligence appeared to have come now into his brain.
There was no mistaking the man: it was the squinting ruffian who had attacked us when we came first, and there was no doubt that he had been staying there to keep watch and hold the place against us, for a candle was stuck in a ginger-beer bottle on the frame of the lathe beyond him, and this candle had guttered down and gone out.
We none of us spoke, but stood in the black shadow invisible to the man, who could only see the bright light of the bull’s-eye staring him full in the face.
“Lie down, will yer!” he growled savagely. “Makin’ shut a row! Lie down or—”
He shouted this last in such a fierce tone of menace that it would have scared some dogs.