‘There’s a sight o’ poor chaps washed ashore hereabouts every gale,’ replied the man. ‘’Tain’t possible allus to say who they be or where they come from. Saint Quinians’ churchyard is full on ’em.’
Not another word was spoken for at least twenty minutes. At the expiration of that time, Rodley rose, went to the door, looked out, remarked that the rain had stopped, put on his overalls, paid his reckoning, wished the company ‘good-night,’ and went out into the darkness.
‘Didn’t get much information out of these chaps!’ he muttered as he pulled his hat down over his face against the driving wind and retraced his steps towards the captain’s house. What with battling against the wind and stumbling about the uneven road in the dark, it was an hour before the solitary light in the captain’s house met Rodley’s gaze. He crossed the small garden and knocked.
Bertha opened the door, and asked timidly: ‘Who is it?’
‘I—Jasper Rodley,’ was the reply.
She uttered a cry of alarm, and would have shut the door, but that Rodley had placed his foot in the opening. The captain hearing his daughter’s cry, came hobbling along the passage hastily. When he beheld Rodley, a cloud came over his face, and he said: ‘Hillo, mate, what is it at this time o’ night?’
‘I want a bed for to-night, and a few words with you, captain,’ said Rodley, who by this time was fairly inside the house, and coolly taking his hat and coat off.
‘But I’ve no room here. There’s an inn farther down, where they’ll put you up better than we can.’
‘I’m a sailor, captain,’ replied Rodley, ‘and I don’t mind where I shake down: that’s of no consequence, but the talk is.’
The captain, who seemed to treat his evidently unwelcome visitor with a kind of deference, shrugged his shoulders, and led the way into the sitting-room, where the remains of a substantial meal graced the table. Jasper Rodley made himself very comfortable in an armchair; the captain, who was the wreck of a fine man, and who, being lame from a recent accident, used a stick, remained standing, as if uncertain how to proceed next; whilst poor Bertha stood, trembling with fright, by the door.