'Do you think he would come across and talk with me on a business matter I have in mind?'
'I'll fetch him for you now, sir. If he's out, he can't be far off. He lives but five doors down.'
The landlord went out with a load of plates and dishes, and Captain Jackman sat musing in front of the fire, of whose warmth and comfort he was greatly in need. After a short absence the landlord returned, accompanied by a man whose extremely ugly face discovered many marks of astonishment. He bobbed from side to side to catch a view of the gentleman who wanted him. He wore a little grey wig, and was deeply pitted with small-pox; he was blind of one eye, and the other looked into his nose, so that it amazed those he conversed with that he saw them.
'Is it Thomas Bruton that you want, gentleman?' said the man, stepping round the table to the side of the captain and staring at him.
'Are you he?' answered Jackman, rising and smiling.
'Ay, and not ashamed of it,' responded the fellow, whose appearance was decidedly villainous.
'I want ten minutes' talk with you; sit down. Landlord, fetch this gentleman a pint of ale, and kindly leave us.'
This was done. Bruton continued to run his malevolent eye with amazement all over the captain, who resumed his seat.
'I understand,' began Captain Jackman, 'that you are the proprietor of a little property, some twelve or fifteen miles down the coast here, called Bugsby's Hole.'
'They're right who says so,' answered the man, sitting squarely before his liquor.