"Hist!" said Diggle suddenly. "There are footsteps again. Is it Burke coming back? The door's open, Job."
The innkeeper went to the door and peered into the dark. A slight figure came up at that moment--a boy, with a bundle in his hand.
"Is that you, Grinsell? Is Mr. Diggle in?"
"Come in, my friend," said Diggle, hastening to the door. "We were just talking of you. Come in; 'tis a late hour; 'si vespertinus subito'--you remember old Horace? True, we haven't a hen to baste with Falernian for you, but sure friend Job can find a wedge of Cheshire and a mug of ale. Come in."
And Desmond went into the inn.
CHAPTER THE SIXTH
In which the reader becomes acquainted with William Bulger and other sailor men; and our hero as a squire of dames acquits himself with credit.
One warm October afternoon, some ten days after the night of his visit to the Four Alls, Desmond was walking along the tow-path of the Thames, somewhat north of Kingston. As he came to the spot where the river bends round towards Teddington, he met a man plodding along with a rope over his shoulder, hauling a laden hoy.
"Can you tell me the way to the Waterman's Rest?" asked Desmond.
"Ay, that can I," replied the man without stopping. "'Tis about a quarter-mile behind me, right on waterside. And the best beer this side o' Greenwich."