"You know this skipper fellow, then?"
"Aye, sir, to me cost—may the divil fly away wid him! Hasn't he bullied me an' cheated me all me life long, the divil-possessed tyrant! Bain't he the livin' curse o' Chance Along?"
"Chance Along, is it?" murmured Mr. Darling. "Now where the devil is Chance Along?"
Then, raising his voice, "You don't seem to love this skipper fellow—this Black Dennis Nolan. What is the trouble between the pair of you?"
Dick finished his rum, eyed the other suspiciously, then stared sullenly at the fire.
Mr. Darling smiled grimly and shouted for Jake.
"My friend will have more of the same," he said, pointing to Lynch's empty glass. "But make it hot, Jake. This is no kind of weather for cold liquor. Better bring the bottle right along, and the kettle and sugar too."
Twenty minutes later Dick Lynch began to talk again, his belated caution entirely vaporized and blown out of his somewhat inferior brain by the fumes of hot rum, lemon and sugar.
"I knows ye, sir," he said. "Sure, didn't I know ye the minute I clapped me two eyes on ye. Cap'n o' that big ship that come ashore in Nolan's Cove, t'ree miles to the south o' Chance Along, ye be. An' a smart landin' ye made, too, boat by boat, wid every mother's son o' ye wid a gun an' a sword in his two hands. Sure, sir, ye wasn't lookin' for to meet wid no man-killin' wrakers on that coast, was ye? Saints forgive ye, sir, the babe unborn would be safe to come ashore in Chance Along!"
John Darling smiled. "You are a sharp lad," he said. "I saw it in your eyes that you knew me the moment I entered the room. I don't see how I ever came to mistake a smart, well-spoken lad like you for that fellow you call the skipper. Well, I am sorry for it. But you have made one mistake, my lad. I wasn't the captain of that ship. I was only one of the mates."