The young man regarded Ethan intently; then he said:
“Somehow, I can’t quite make up my mind about you.”
Ethan thought of the odd conduct of the speaker and replied,
“The feeling is mutual, then; for you have puzzled me some.”
The landlady had gone in once more, seeing that there was nothing wrong, and Ethan had taken a seat upon a bench facing the man in the scarlet coat. There was a short silence between them, then the latter asked:
“Will you lend me your knife; I want to trim my cane a bit.”
He held a light cane in his hand; through constant contact with the ground this had become worn and splintered at one end. Ethan noticed that the man carried a knife in his own belt, but thinking it in bad condition, he handed over his own without a word. The soldier began to chip at his cane with great deliberation.
“It’s a good blade,” said he. “Where did you get it?”
“Aboard ship,” said Ethan.
“Ah,” the man darted a quick look at him and then went on chipping. “You got it from some other sailor, I suppose.”