“Now,” said Mr. Nugent, who was sitting down with his hands in his pockets, “perhaps you'll be good enough to explain what all this means.”
“You were 'ere last night,” said Mr. Wilks, “you and the cap'n.”
“I know that,” said Nugent. “How is it I didn't go home? I didn't understand that it was an all-night invitation. Where is my father?”
The steward shook his head helplessly. “He was 'ere when I went out last night,” he said, slowly. “When I came back the room was empty and I was told as 'e was upstairs in my bed.”
“Told he was in your bed?” repeated the other. “Who told you?”
He pushed open the small lattice window and peered out into the alley.
Mr. Wilks caught his breath. “I mean I told myself 'e was in my bed,” he stammered, “because when I came in I see these bed-clothes on the floor, an' I thought as the cap'n 'ad put them there for me and taken my bed 'imself.”
Mr. Nugent regarded the litter of bed-clothes as though hoping that they would throw a little light on the affair, and then shot a puzzled glance at Mr. Wilks.
“Why should you think my father wanted your bed?” he inquired.
“I don't know,” was the reply. “I thought p'r'aps 'e'd maybe taken a little more than 'e ought to have taken. But it's all a myst'ry to me. I'm more astonished than wot you are.”