Gaunt and Arethusa go out L., carrying the candles. Stage dark. A distant clock chimes the quarters, and strikes one. Then the tap-tapping of Pew’s stick is heard without; the key is put into the lock; and enter Pew, C.; he pockets key, and is followed by Kit, with dark lantern
Pew. Quiet, you lubber! Can’t you foot it soft, you that has daylights and a glim?
Kit. All right, old boy. How the devil did we get through the door? Shall I knock him up?
Pew. Stow your gab (seizing his wrist). Under your breath!
Kit. Avast that! You’re a savage dog, aren’t you?
Pew. Turn on that glim.
Kit. It’s as right as a trivet, Pew. What next? By George, Pew, I’ll make your fortune.
Pew. Here, now, look round this room, and sharp. D’ye see a old sea-chest?
Kit. See it, Pew? why, d’ye think I’m blind?
Pew. Take me across, and let me feel of her. Mum; catch my hand. Ah, that’s her (feeling the chest), that’s the Golden Mary. Now, see here, my bo, if you’ve the pluck of a weevil in a biscuit, this girl is yours; if you hain’t, and think to sheer off, I’m blind, but I’m deadly.