Gaunt. What brings you here?
Pew. Cap’n, do my ears deceive me? or is this my old commander?
Gaunt. My name is John Gaunt. Who are you, my man, and what’s your business?
Pew. Here’s the facks, so help me. A lovely female in this house was Christian enough to pity the poor blind; and lo and be’old! who should she turn out to be but my old commander’s daughter! “My dear,” says I to her, “I was the Admiral’s own particular bo’sun.”—“La, sailor,” she says to me, “how glad he’ll be to see you!”—“Ah,” says I, “won’t he just—that’s all.”—“I’ll go and fetch him,” she says; “you make yourself at ’ome.” And off she went; and, Commander, here I am.
Gaunt (sitting down). Well.
Pew. Well, Cap’n?
Gaunt. What do you want?
Pew. Well, Admiral, in a general way, what I want in a manner of speaking is money and rum. (A pause.)
Gaunt. David Pew, I have known you a long time.
Pew. And so you have; aboard the old Arethusa; and you don’t seem that cheered up as I’d looked for, with a old shipmate dropping in, one as has been seeking you two years and more—and blind at that. Don’t you remember the old chantie?—