"What tomfoolery is this, Ned? Open your door, or by G—d! I will beat your churlish gate to atoms!" Suiting the action to the word he began kicking at the door in a way that endangered the panels, thick as they were. Unwilling to allow this, L'Estrange opened the door.
"You are mad, Ned, I think; because you are angry at some foolish gibes, you treat friend and foe alike, and bar your doors on both!"
"Come in, I do not know what I am doing."
Without replying the Captain entered, and shut and locked the door behind him.
"You are certainly a d—d fool to care so much about a girl who doesn't care that for you," he at length said, snapping his fingers.
"If you are only come to insult my misery you may begone!"
"You are an unreasonable brute to-night," answered the Captain. "I come to right all, and you treat me like a peevish child who pushes away the medicine that is to do him good! Come, let us talk you to reason over a bottle of wine, and light your fire, it is cold and dull;" so saying he struck his flint and steel, and kindling some tinder set a light to the shavings, and then walked across the room to a cupboard and took out a stand of silver with cut glass bottles, containing whisky, brandy, and gin; drawing a table before the fire, he placed the bottles upon it, and seated himself on an arm-chair, lighted his pipe and smoked in silent thought. L'Estrange moodily placed a chair opposite, and seating himself on it watched the fire. When the fire was burning pretty bright, throwing some dry logs on the blazing flames, the Captain opened conversation with:—
"I hope you see your plans are gone to the devil. I have tried to bolster up the sinking fabric, but it is no use; it must all be pulled down and a new erection built out of the ruins."
"I think," answered L'Estrange, "there is an unseen power working against us,—it is useless to do more."
"What will you then do?"