The saying was entirely unpremeditated; but instantly he realized that it bore an apparent significance, for the peddler shot him a glance of surprise, and then coughed in a warning way behind his hand. Then, as though to cover an awkward happening, the man thrust a thumb and forefinger into his waistcoat pocket and produced a massive watch. Holding it up that George might have a good view of it, he said:
“There is a rare sight for you; I dare venture to say you don’t often see its like. The king puts no finer gold in his guineas, and the cogs and springs and balances are miracles of art.”
“It looks very fine, indeed,” praised George.
“I offer such rarities only to certain gentlemen of quality,” said the peddler; “but,” and he made a wide gesture, “things are not what they were, and I am scantily furnished with money just now.” He bent toward George. “If you fancy such a thing you shall have it at a small price.”
But George shook his head.
“Have you examined it well?” The peddler got up and stood with his broad back to the lieutenant, his head lowered toward George and his face away from the firelight. “It is a surprising watch in more ways than one. Look; could anything be finer?” So saying he snapped open the heavy case and bent still nearer to the young New Englander. Then his voice sank lower and he whispered:
“What ship?”
“The ‘Nancy Breen,’” in the same tone.
“Does the other,” and a twitch of a mouth corner indicated the lieutenant, “bear you company?”
“No.”