The boatswain stopped dead in the middle of the road and stood eying him suspiciously, but the mild eyes behind the glasses only betrayed friendly solicitude. He grunted and walked on.
By the time the Fox and Hounds came in sight again he had resolved not to lose a reputation which entailed suffering. He clapped the boy on the back, and after referring to a clasp-knive which he remembered to have left on the grass opposite the Pedlar's Rest, announced his intention of going back for it. He did go back as far as a bend in the road, and, after watching Bassett out of sight, hastened with expectant steps into the inn.
He rested there for an hour, and, much refreshed, walked slowly into Salthaven. It was past seven o'clock, and somewhat at a loss how to spend the evening he was bending his steps toward the Lobster Pot, a small inn by the quay, when in turning a corner he came into violent collision with a fashionably attired lady.
"I beg pardon, ma'am," he stammered. "I'm very sorry. I didn't see where I was—Why! Halloa, yaller wig!"
Miss Jelks drew back and, rubbing, her arm, eyed him haughtily.
"Fancy you in a 'at like that," pursued the astonished boatswain. "No wonder I thought you was a lady. Well, and 'ow are you?"
"My health is very well, I thank you," returned Miss Jelks, stiffly.
"That's right," said the boatswain, heartily.
Conversation came suddenly to a standstill, and they stood eying each other awkwardly.