“Are we quite safe here, sir?”
The Frenchman heard the question, and turned at the door, as if waiting with some anxiety for the answer.
“There’s not a doubt of it,” said Mr. Seymour. “We are a good distance behind the fire, and the east wind is driving it from us along the waterside.”
Martin had paid little attention to Mr. Seymour’s answer, so eager was he to satisfy himself as to the nature of the buttons. Mounseer, apparently reassured, had disappeared. Wheeling round to follow him into the house, Mr. Seymour came for a moment within the illumination from the red sky, and Martin almost jumped as he noticed that the buttons appeared to be made of the same metal as the one that Susan Gollop had found. They seemed also to be the same size, but of that he was not quite so sure.
He went into the house behind Mr. Seymour, watched him ascend to the upper floor, then ran down the basement stairs. Mrs. Gollop had prepared supper, and there was a look of disappointment on her face when she saw Martin enter alone.
“Have you seen Gollop?” she asked anxiously.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t,” Martin replied.
“What has become of the man? I’m beginning to worrit. He’s such a regular man for his meals. He’s never missed his Sunday dinner since he came home from sea.”
“Isn’t that his step?” said Martin, running to the door.
Heavy, dragging footsteps were heard on the stairs. Lucy jumped up and joined her brother: Mrs. Gollop stood in her place, and with a quick lift of her apron wiped the corners of her eyes.