Mr. Keegan closed the door, and discreetly locked it again, putting the key in his pocket. He remained silently contemplating the two for an instant, for they had apparently forgotten his existence, and then he laid his hand on Pennington’s arm.
“Better belay that now, Mr. Pennington,” he said, “and get under way.” Here Mr. Keegan was forced to get rid of a certain amount of tobacco. “Keep a good full, Mr. Pennington, and God bless you both, sir!”
Pennington grasped Mr. Keegan’s hand, and wrung it.
“Eleanor,” he said simply, “this is my old friend, Mr. Keegan. It will take me a long time to tell you how much we owe to him.”
“Never mind that, sir,” answered Mr. Keegan, as he took off his cap, and rubbed his eyes suspiciously with the sleeve of his muster jacket. “And, miss,” he continued, by way of acknowledgment of a very graceful speech Miss Inglefield had made him, “you’ve got the finest young officer in the navy.”
“The very finest,” Mr. Keegan repeated to himself, when they had gone; “she has sure got a prize.” He sat down against the wall, and began to feel very unhappy, so much so as to become totally careless as to pursuit or capture. It was thus his friend the master-at-arms found him, or rather fell over him, some ten minutes afterward.
“Anything yet from the old one, Dennis?” he inquired.
Mr. Keegan rose.
“He may get on to it now,” he said, “and he may get on to it to-morrow. We’ll just stand by a spell, in case he gets uneasy. You boost me up, Chimmy, till I see if there’s a light in the house.”
Mr. Keegan got on the wall and immediately threw himself down on his face.