Thus self-communing, the old admiral marched along until he came to Sir Francis Varney's house, at the gate of which he gave the bell what he called a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether, that set it ringing with a fury, the like of which had never certainly been heard by the household.
A minute or two scarcely elapsed before the domestics hurried to answer so urgent a summons; and when the gate was opened, the servant who answered it inquired his business.
"What's that to you, snob? Is your master, Sir Francis Varney, in? because, if he be, let him know old Admiral Bell wants to speak to him. D'ye hear?"
"Yes, sir," replied the servant, who had paused a few moments to examine the individual who gave this odd kind of address.
In another minute word was brought to him that Sir Francis Varney would be very happy to see Admiral Bell.
"Ay, ay," he muttered; "just as the devil likes to meet with holy water, or as I like any water save salt water."
He was speedily introduced to Sir Francis Varney, who was seated in the same posture as he had been left by Henry Bannerworth not many minutes before.
"Admiral Bell," said Sir Francis, rising, and bowing to that individual in the most polite, calm, and dignified manner imaginable, "permit me to express the honour I feel at this unexpected visit."
"None of your gammon."
"Will you be seated. Allow me to offer you such refreshments as this poor house affords."