The Porcupine looked astonished.
“What he may be about to do,” repeated he. “Well, now we have a dealing in mysteries, indeed! And what do you think he may be about to do?”
But Ben Cooper shook his head.
“I don’t know. It is not definite enough for me to give it a name. I have a sort of presentiment that harm is to come through him; that is all I can make out of it.”
The dwarf sat in silence, trying to understand this. He brushed his stiff crest of hair more erect, wrinkled his brows and stared at his friend; but, apparently, he could make nothing of it all. And while he was so engaged a somewhat stout man, with a round face and shrewd eyes, came into the coffee room. It was the landlord who hastened forward to relieve him of his cloak and three-cornered hat.
“Hah!” said the round-faced man as he stamped upon the hearth to warm his feet, “it keeps cold, landlord.” He unwound a great length of woolen comforter from about his neck and then rubbed his hands briskly together before the blaze. “But then, what else would we have for a New Year’s Eve?”
Seemingly the gentleman was the one whom Merchant Livingstone expected, for that honest man greeted him warmly and presented Hawkins. Again in the whirl of words did Ben lose the name.
“I am right glad to meet Master Hawkins,” said the newcomer. “I do not recollect any one in Savannah of the name with whom my firm has had dealings; but then,” with a laugh, “I do not profess to recall them all.”
“We have never had the pleasure of any transactions with your house, sir,” said Tobias Hawkins, smoothly. “Our trade is mostly importations from the islands, and gulf points. Spanish goods, and Portuguese, too, we import in foreign bottoms, for such are largely demanded by the ports along the gulf and south coast.”
Their supper was served to them, and the three fell to with hearty appetites; but the meal had not progressed far when Master Livingstone again fell to talking politics.