He finished his gin and water slowly. For months he had been screwing up his courage to carry that room by assault, and this was the result. He had been insulted almost in the very face of Charles, a youth whose reputation as a gossip was second to none in Sunwich. “Do you know what I should do if I was you?” said that worthy, as he entered the room again and swept up the broken glass. “I do not,” said Mr. Kybird, with lofty indifference. “I shouldn’t come ’ere again, that’s what I should do,” said Charles, frankly. “Next time he’ll throw _you_ in the fireplace.” “Ho,” said the heated Mr. Kybird. “Ho, will he? I’d like to see ’im. I’ll make ’im sorry for this afore I’ve done with ’im. I’ll learn ’im to insult a respectable British tradesman. I’ll show him who’s who.” “What’ll you do?” inquired the other. [Illustration: “He stepped across the road to his emporium.”] “Never you mind,” said Mr. Kybird, who was not in a position to satisfy his curiosity—“never you mind. You go and get on with your work, Charles, and p’r’aps by the time your moustache ’as grown big enough to be seen, you’ll ’ear something.” “I ’eard something the other day,” said the bar-man, musingly; “about you it was, but I wouldn’t believe it.” “Wot was it?” demanded the other. “Nothing much,” replied Charles, standing with his hand on the door-knob, “but I wouldn’t believe it of you; I said I couldn’t.” “Wot—was—it?” insisted Mr. Kybird. “Why, they said you once gave a man a fair price for a pair of trousers,” said the barman, indignantly. He closed the door behind him softly, and Mr. Kybird, after a brief pause, opened it again and, more softly still, quitted the precincts of The Goblets, and stepped across the road to his emporium. Captain Nugent, in happy ignorance of the dark designs of the wardrobe dealer, had also gone home. He was only just beginning to realize the comparative unimportance of a retired shipmaster, and the knowledge was a source of considerable annoyance to him. No deferential mates listened respectfully to his instructions, no sturdy seaman ran to execute his commands or trembled mutinously at his wrath. The only person in the wide world who stood in awe of him was the general servant Bella, and she made no attempt to conceal her satisfaction at the attention excited by her shortcomings. He paused a moment at the gate and then, walking slowly up to the door, gave it the knock of a master. A full minute passing, he knocked again, remembering with some misgivings his stern instructions of the day before that the door was to be attended by the servant and by nobody else. He had seen Miss Nugent sitting at the window as he passed it, but in the circumstances the fact gave him no comfort. A third knock was followed by a fourth, and then a distressed voice upstairs was heard calling wildly upon the name of Bella.