But it would be a misconception to suppose that Job Rattenbury lived for the past alone, and that he was without an eye for the future. As far as his own future was concerned he was indifferent, but his ambition with regard to Jack had a forward look.
Days close in rapidly in November. Rattenbury drew the little blind over his window, and excluded the fishy glimmer of the dying day. He did not light a candle. Candles in those times were of tallow, and were a constant annoyance, as they needed periodic snuffing, but he threw more wood upon the fire, and the whole room gleamed with saffron light that scintillated in the burnished copper and brass articles on the mantelshelf and in the Bristol lustre crockery on the dresser, but nowhere more brilliantly than in those living agates, the eyes of Winefred.
Mrs. Marley was engaged at the fire, and was turning out that same beefsteak pudding on which at the moment all Winefred's thoughts and desires hung.
Olver's eye observed her every movement, but it did so furtively, and he was careful that neither she nor Job should notice to what an extent she engrossed his attention.
When the supper was served, Mrs. Marley and Winefred sat and ate along with the two men, and the girl did full justice to the pudding. That done the women rose, cleared away the dishes, leaving only tumblers and the ale-jug to the master and his guest, that they might smoke and drink and converse together without restraint.
So, as ancient cronies, the captain and the ferryman fell into talk upon times past beyond recall save as a memory, and the Paycock was often in their mouths. And as they drank they looked into the fire and drew long pulls at their pipes, and the mistrust, the aversion entertained by Rattenbury ebbed away.
There rose a succession of scenes before his fancy, lighted up with a perhaps unreal halo, such as affection casts over the past, associated with pride at the recollection of a daring and a dashing youth.
All at once Winefred traversed the kitchen.
Job caught his violin, and signalled to her with the bow.
'Child,' said he, 'see if you can dance.'