“How does Jack bear it?” inquired Mrs. Maggot.
“Like a hero,” answered Austin.
“I knew he would,” replied the Amazon. “Come Bess,—no whimpering. Don't unman him. Are we to see him here?”
“Yes, my love.”
“Well, then, lose no time in bringing him to us,” said Mrs. Maggot. “There's a guinea to drink our health,” she added, slipping a piece of money into his hand.
“Here, Caliban,” shouted the under-turnkey, “unlock Captain Sheppard's padlock, and tell him his wives are in the Lodge waiting to see him.”
“Iss, Massa Austin,” replied the black. And taking the keys, he departed on the errand.
As soon as he was gone, the two women divested themselves of their hoods and cloaks, and threw them, as if inadvertently, into the farthest part of the angle in the wall. Their beautifully proportioned figures and rather over-displayed shoulders attracted the notice of Austin, who inquired of the chief turnkey “whether he should stand by them during the interview?”
“Oh! never mind them,” said Mrs. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. “Sit down, and enjoy yourself. I'll keep a look out that nothing happens.”
By this time Caliban had returned, and Jack appeared at the hatch. He was wrapped in a loose dressing-gown of light material, and stood near the corner where the women's dresses had just been thrown down, quite out of sight of all the party, except Mrs. Spurling, who sat on the right of the table.