Well-meant but artless simulation! Captain Hunken had once in his life purchased a picture; it represented Vesuvius by night, in eruption, and he had yielded to the importunity of the Neapolitan artist--or, rather, had excused himself for yielding--on the ground that after all you couldn't mistake the dam thing for anything else. They came abreast of Harbour Terrace. They were passing by the green front door of Number Two. Still Captain Cai made no sign. "There's a house, f'r instance--supposin' a man could afford the rental--" 'Bias halted and regarded it. "Hullo, 'tis unoccupied!" He turned about slowly. "You don't--mean--to tell me--as that's _of_ it?" "That's _of_ it," Cai admitted tremulously. After a long pause, '"Bias," he stammered, "break it gently." "I'm tryin' to," said 'Bias, breathing and backing to the railings for a better view. He removed his hat and wiped the top of his head several times around. Then of a sudden-- "Hooray!" he exploded. "'Bias!" Cai stared, as well he might, for his friend's face was totally impassive. "Hoo--" began 'Bias again. "Who the devil's this?" he demanded, as the door opened and Tabb's child appeared in the entry. "I been expectin' you this hour an' more," announced Tabb's child. "Stoppin' for drinks on the road, I reckon?" "We did take a drink, now you mention it," stammered Captain Cai, caught aback: "though, as it happens that don't account for our bein' late. But what brings _you_, here, missy?" She laid a finger on her lip. "Sh! I've got 'em." "Got what?" "Servants for 'ee. They're inside." She pointed back in to the passage mysteriously. "Who's this child?" demanded Captain 'Bias. "She's--er--a young friend o' mine--" began Captain Cai. But Fancy interrupted him, dropping a slight curtsey, and addressing his friend straight. "My name's Fancy Tabb, sir. Which I hope you'll like Troy, and Cap'n Hocken ast me to make myself useful an' find you a pair of servants-- woman an' boy." "Oh, but hold hard!" protested Captain Cai. "We haven't started furnishin' yet." She nodded. "That's all right. No hurry with either of 'em--not for some weeks, or so long as it suits you. But you'll be safer to bespeak 'em: an' Mrs Bowldler is the chance of a lifetime." She led the way through to the unfurnished and somewhat dingy kitchen. It had a low window-seat, from the extreme ends of which, as the two skippers entered, two figures--a middle-aged woman and a gawky lad-- arose and saluted them; the one with a highly genteel curtsey, the other with an awkward half-pull at his forelock, and much scraping with his feet. "This is Mrs Bowldler," Fancy nodded towards the middle-aged woman. "Your servant, sirs," Mrs Bowldler curtseyed again and coughed. "With a W if you don't object." "She's quite a good plain cook; and well connected, though reduced in circumstances. Mr Rogers, sir, is often glad to employ her at a pinch." "At a what?" asked Captain Tobias, breathing hard.