They stopped before the door of a low house with not many windows looking into the street. Such as there were were closed with shutters.
“She’s a good old creature,” whispered Jacob, “though maybe by this hour she’s a little lushy; but you must not mind that. She knows me and my ways, and will treat us well. Her husband is sure to be drunk; but then he will be in bed and out of the way, and she’s never so bad but what she can get supper ready. We may trust Sally Hoggart for that. You will see I am right.”
Jacob gave two or three knocks on the door, but no one came to it.
“Maybe she’s had a drop or two more than usual,” observed Jacob. “She will wake up in time, only I hope no press-gang will be coming along the street before she opens the door. If we see them we must run for it, Harry. You stick by me. I know a place to hide away in.”
Jacob repeated his blows on the door. At last a slide was moved in one of the panels, and a light streamed through it.
“All right, Sally,” said Jacob. “You know me, and I have brought a mate. Open the door, and let us in; we have enough to pay for our board, so don’t be afraid.”
The door opened, and the two young men entered, the bolts and bars being instantly replaced. The person who came to the door might have possessed many excellent qualities, but her appearance was not in her favour. Her figure was stout and shapeless; her dress, wanting greatly in hooks and eyes and strings, worn and stained, looked ready to slip off her shoulders. Her hair, already sprinkled with white, escaped in dishevelled locks from beneath her mob cap, destitute of all stiffness, and darkened by soot and dust, while her thick lips and watery bloodshot eye showed that she not unfrequently indulged in potations deep and strong. Jacob, however, on entering, chucked her under the chin, and giving her a hearty smack on her flabby cheeks, told her to be a good old soul, and to get supper ready for two hungry wayfarers. At first she declared that she had dressed suppers for twenty men already, and that she was too sleepy to put another saucepan on the fire; but Jacob, after a little persuasion, made her promise to exert herself, and he then led the way into a room at the back part of the house. Here some dozen or more men were sitting round a table, most of them with pipes in their mouths, others with pots of ale or glasses of spirits before them, while several were playing at cards. They looked up at the new comers, who took their seats at the other end of the table. Jacob soon entered into conversation with those nearest him, and learned what ships were fitting out. The characters of various captains were discussed.
“The ‘Brilliant,’ Captain Everard, has just come in to refit, and is in want of hands. He’s a right sort of officer. If I wanted to go afloat, I would volunteer on board his ship as soon as any other,” remarked a seaman who was sitting opposite to them.
“What do you say, Harry? Would you like to volunteer on board the ‘Brilliant’?” asked Jacob.
“No, she would not suit me,” answered Harry. “I have my reasons for not wishing to join her.”