"Good evening, gentlemen all," said Captain Brisket, in a hearty voice.
He stepped forward, and seizing Mr. Chalk's hand wrung it fervently.
"It's good for sore eyes to see you again, sir," he said. "Look at him, Peter!"
Mr. Duckett, ignoring this reflection on his personal appearance, stepped quietly inside the door, and stood smiling nervously at the company.
"It's him," said the staring Mr. Stobell, drawing a deep breath. "It's Brisket."
He pushed his chair back and, rising slowly from the table, confronted him. Captain Brisket, red-faced and confident, stared up at him composedly.
"It's Brisket," said Mr. Stobell again, in a voice of deep content. "Turn the key in that door, Chalk."
Mr. Chalk hesitated, but Brisket, stepping to the door, turned the key and, placing it on the table, returned to his place by the side of the mate. Except for a hard glint in his eye his face still retained its smiling composure.
"And now," said Stobell, "you and me have got a word or two to say to each other. I haven't had the pleasure of seeing your ugly face since—"
"Since the disaster," interrupted Tredgold, loudly and hastily.