“Quite right. Quite right. But what do they say?”
“Very queer things goes on in that 'ouse,” said Ephraim. “I don't 'ardly like to say. But they think 'e raises the devil, sir. Awful noises goes on there. I seen some things myself there, as I don't like to talk of. Well. I saw a black bird as big as a man stand flapping in the window. Then I seen eyes glaring out at the door. They give the 'ouse a bad name, sir; everyone.”
“H'm,” said my uncle. “What's he like, Martin, this Mr. Jermyn?”
“A tall man, with a beard,” I answered. I thought it wrong to mention that I knew the beard to be false. “He's always stroking the bridge of his nose with his hand.”
“Ha,” my uncle said, as though recognizing the trait. “But with a beard, you tell me?”
“Yes, sir. With a beard.”
“H'm,” he answered, musing, “I must have a look at this Mr. Jermyn. Remember, Martin, you're to have nothing more to do with him, till I know a little more of what he is. You understand?”
“Yes, uncle.”
“One cannot be too careful in this town. I won't allow you in the streets, Martin. No matter who has his pockets picked. I told you that before.”
“Please, uncle, may I go on the river, then, if I'm not to go into the street? I'm used to boats.”