“Mr. Pym, sir?” she said, in answer to Ferrar. “He dressed hisself and went out when he’d swallowed down his tea. He always do go out, sir, the minute he’s swallowed it.”
“Do you expect him back to-night?” questioned Jack.
“Why yes, sir, I suppose so,” she answered, “he mostly comes in about eleven.”
“Has any young lady been here this evening, ma’am?” blandly continued Jack. “With Mr. Pym?—or to inquire for him?”
Mrs. Richenough resented the question. “A young lady!” she repeated, raising her voice. “Well, I’m sure! what next?”
“Take care: it is our captain who speaks to you,” whispered Ferrar in her ear; and the old woman dropped a curtsy to Jack. Captains are captains with the old landladies in Ship Street.
“Mr. Pym’s sister—or cousin,” amended Jack.
“And it’s humbly asking pardon of you, sir. I’m sure I took it to mean one of them fly-away girls that would like to be running after our young officers continual. No, sir; no young lady has been here for Mr. Pym, or with him.”
“We can wait a little while to see whether he comes in, I presume, ma’am,” said Jack.