“Ah,” muttered one or two voices deeply and under the breath.
This exclamation had scarcely sounded through the room before the door was opened and Long John, accompanied by Rowton, entered.
Long John’s eyes looked kind and pathetic; his lips intensely firm, a smile now and then parting them and showing the white teeth. That smile, innocent as it appeared, was the dread of every man in the room.
As Rowton now walked by his side up to the top of the room, he felt that the chief was smiling, and augured ill from the circumstance.
“Welcome back, Silver,” said one or two voices as he passed them. Simpkins in particular, a cadaverous-looking man for all his apparent prosperity, clutched hold of Rowton’s coat to attract attention.
“It’s all right, old man,” said Rowton, nodding to him.
The man’s face instantly relaxed into a happier expression.
“Sit down near me, Rowton, and tell us all that you have done during your absence,” said Long John. “We did not expect you for at least another fortnight. Have you concluded the business?”
“Yes and no,” replied Rowton.
“That is very ambiguous—explain yourself.”