"Oh! are they?" returned Corrie, with a glance of peculiar meaning; "perhaps they are more interested than you are."
"How so?"
"Why, how do I know, and how do you know, that these fellows are not pirates in disguise?"
"Because," said Henry, "one of them is an old friend,—that is, an acquaintance—at least a sort of intimate, who has been many and many a time at our house before, and my mother knows him well. I can't say I like him,—that is to say, I don't exactly like some of his ways,—though I don't dislike the man himself."
"A most unsatisfactory style of reply, Henry, for a man—ah, beg pardon, a boy—of your straightforward character. Which o' the three are you speaking of—the grampus?"
"No, the other big, handsome-looking fellow."
"And you're sure you've known him long?" continued the boy, while an expression of perplexity flitted over his face.
"Quite sure;—why?"
"Because I have seen you often enough, and your house and your mother,—not to mention your cat and your pigs, and hens; but I've never seen him before to-day."
"That's because he usually comes at night, and seldom stays more than an hour or two."