The captain shook his head. “I didn't ask him,” he said, with affected indifference, and sat gazing out at the window as Hardy began his narration. Two or three times he thought he saw signs of appreciation in his listener's face, but the mouth under the heavy moustache was firm and the eyes steady. Only when he related Swann's interview with Nathan Smith and Kybird did the captain's features relax. He gave a chuckling cough and, feeling for his handkerchief, blew his nose violently. Then, with a strange gleam in his eye, he turned to the young man opposite.
“Very smart,” he said, shortly.
“It was successful,” said the other, modestly.
“Very,” said the captain, as he rose and confronted him. “I am much obliged, of course, for the trouble you have taken in the affairs of my family. And now I will remind you of our agreement.”
“Agreement?” repeated the other.
The captain nodded. “Your visits to me were to cease when this marriage happened, if I wished it,” he said, slowly.
“That was the arrangement,” said the dumb-founded Hardy, “but I had hoped——. Besides, it has all taken place much sooner than I had anticipated.”
“That was the bargain,” said the captain, stiffly. “And now I'll bid you good-day.”
“I am sorry that my presence should be so distasteful to you,” said the mortified Hardy.
“Distasteful, sir?” said the captain, sternly. “You have forced yourself on me for twice a week for some time past. You have insisted upon talking on every subject under the sun, whether I liked it or not. You have taken every opportunity of evading my wishes that you should not see my daughter, and you wonder that I object to you. For absolute brazenness you beat anything I have ever encountered.”