“I—I—beg—your pardon, Mister Gray,” hiccupped the man, “but was that y—y—you that laughed in that odd way? Eh?”
“I laughed,” said Learmont.
“Then—d—don’t do it again. It’s the most uncom—com—comfortable sort o’ laugh I ever heard; an ex—ex—extraordinary laugh.”
“Good master a—a—”
“Sheldon,” said the man.
“Ay, Sheldon,” resumed Learmont. “I will have no secrets from you. You shall come home with me. You know the way?”
“Of—of—course I do.”
“Then, come on,” cried Learmont, with difficulty concealing his exultations at the chance that had thus thrown in his way a guide to Gray’s house.
“Ay, you—you’re right,” said the waterman. “Come on—come on. We’ll have a cup together?”
“Ha, ha!” cried Learmont, “we will.”