He raised his voice to a singsong, and sent the call rolling toward the cottage, rather enjoying the din made by himself and the dog, with a hundred echoes from every dell and hollow in the cliff. In a minute or two he saw the sailor stumping round the bushes, his head bare, his shirt open at the neck, a spade in one hand, and in the other a little square board.
"Oh, 'tis you, Mr. Hardy, sir. I was digging turnips at the back. Lor', sir, all Luscombe will know you've bin here, with this terrible row and all."
"I don't care if they do, and it was your dog that made the row."
"A good dog, sir. Living alone by myself, you see, I need a watch-dog. Come in, sir, come in."
He had removed a padlock, drawn two bolts and loosed two bars on the inner side, and thrown the gate open. Jack stepped into the garden, keeping an eye on the bulldog, which had ceased to bark as soon as Gumley appeared, but walked slowly round and round the visitor, sniffing at his legs as if choosing the best place for a bite.
"There's no cause for alarm, sir—leastways not while I'm on deck. I'd best introduce you proper like, then you'll be safe any time, fair weather or foul. This here's Comely; and this is Mr. Hardy of the Fury: twiggy-voo, as the mounseers say? Now pat him, sir."
Jack felt a little uneasy, but knowing that it is best to put a bold face on it, whether with dogs or men, he stooped and patted the massive head. With an expression that seemed to him more sinister than ever, the dog stuck out a red tongue and licked his hand.
"Now all's snug and shipshape, sir. Comely's your friend for life."
"Queer name that."
"True, sir. It was like this. I had a notion of calling him Handsome, 'cos handsome is as handsome does, and he does most uncommon handsome. But thinking it over between watches, as you may say, it seemed like poking fun at the poor beast that couldn't hit back, and I cast about for a name that would mean the same but not quite so strong. I tacked about for a time without catching a fair breeze, sir. Then all at once I remembered a word in my Bible: 'black but comely.' Comely's a good name, thinks I, and his muzzle's black, and my name's Gumley, so Comely it shall be: and Comely it is, sir. We're a pair, I can tell you, Comely and Gumley."