“Now, Mr. Inglefield,” Mr. Keegan continued, glancing around at the faces about the lantern, “this here ain’t no place to talk private matters; but if you’ll take the trouble to step inside with us, me and Chimmy’ll try to give you a loocid report of this here, sir.”
“Come inside, by all means, if you can throw any light on this rascally business,” said Mr. Inglefield, picking up the lantern, and leading the way to the house. The others followed.
“Dennis,” said the master-at-arms to Mr. Keegan, pulling him by the sleeve, “there ain’t no use of my goin’ in there; you knows how to handle the old one. I’ll be payin’ the seenora that little call I missed this afternoon.”
Mr. and Mrs. Pennington, or the master-at-arms, for that matter, never knew precisely how Mr. Keegan “handled the old one” during the half-hour he was closeted with him. Mr. Keegan, of course, would never tell. All he could be induced to say, when questioned on the subject by the master-at-arms, was:—
“He went in like a lion and come out like a lamb, didn’t he, Chimmy?”
The master-at-arms admitted that he did.
“Well, Chimmy,” he would reply, solemnly blinking his little eyes, “that there’s all there is to it.”
In the service journal, which is published in New York, there appeared the following item:—
“A most interesting and novel wedding took place on Thursday, October 31, at Funchal, Madeira, on board the steamer Southampton of the Union Line. Ensign John R. Pennington, U.S.N., married Miss Eleanor Inglefield, daughter of Robert Inglefield, Esq., of Ravenside, long and eminently connected with the British diplomatic service. The bride and groom left immediately for England. In consequence of Mr. Pennington’s hurried departure, the wedding was a surprise even to his brother officers of the Denver. The young couple are now at Newport, where Ensign Pennington is stationed; and it is understood that the bride’s father will spend the winter with them.”