"But," said the other, who now flushed again, and even more deeply than before. "But what?" "If the beard you wear now prevented me from recognising you as that fellow's groomsman, it has led to my recognising you, or rather remembering your face, in some other situation. Sir, have you not been a sailor?" "I have been a sailor," the other said, with what was truly marvellous calm, considering the feelings within him, "and once bore the King's commission." "I felt sure. Yet I cannot recall--I cannot----" "Let me do so for you. You formed one of the Court-martial on board the _Warwick_ which broke me, drove me from out the sea service. Do you remember now?" Then, in a voice as cold as ice, Geoffrey, after regarding the man before him for another minute, said-- "Ay, I remember. Your name is Lewis Granger. I remember very well. I remember the Glastonbury affair." "I was innocent. Though found guilty." "Innocent! Innocent! Though you restored----" "I was innocent, I say!" the other cried loudly. "But enough! Lewis Granger is no more. The man you are talking to is called Lewis. Well, you want men! How many, and what will you pay?" "The King's price. Two pounds for experienced sailors; two pounds for willing men; one pound for landlubbers--'kids.'" "It is not enough. There are no more sailors to be had, and the willing hands are all taken, by you and others. As for 'kids'--yes. But at the price of sailors--my price, not theirs--three pounds. Two for them, one for me." "I shall not pay it. There are still others hereabouts whom I can take." "If you mean the schooner which is lying off the Marshes, you are mistaken. She flies the Dutch colours; you cannot touch her. That is not my affair, however; take her and welcome, if you will. She has my stuff on board, and--has paid for it." "We will see for that. If the order comes, I must have her. Meanwhile, have you nothing?" "Something. Not much, though. The schooner has gotten them all. Come and see if you choose." "So be it. Where are they?" For answer Lewis Granger, or, as he now said he desired to be termed, Lewis, lifted up the flap of the counter and signalled to Sir Geoffrey to come behind it. And this being done, the former led the way through a passage to the back of the house and then up a pair of stairs, arriving at a room still farther back, from which, as he and the captain of the _Mignonne_ approached, there came an indescribable hubbub. A noise of singing and shouting, a yelling from other voices, and, in one or two cases, cries, as though some were fighting. "One man at least in there has been a sailor," Sir Geoffrey said. "That lingo has never been learned ashore. But the others, who are they?" "All sorts. Some good, some bad. One fellow is so desperate to get away to sea that I doubt not the runners are after him. 'Tis he who sings. Listen!" While, as he spoke, above all the hubbub there arose a voice singing--