"Goodby, sir," he said, giving Desmond a hearty grip. Then he shut one eye and jerked his head in the direction of the vessel. "Never you fear, sir: I'll keep my weather eye open. Missy have taken an uncommon fancy to this here little fishhook o' mine, and 'tis my belief I'll keep her hanging on to it, sir, nevertheless and notwithstandin' and all that, till you comes home covered with gore and glory. I may be wrong." He tumbled on deck. Then amid cheers, with flags flying and handkerchiefs waving, the good ship moved from the ghat into the swelling river. Chapter 32: In which the curtain falls to the sound of wedding bells: and our hero comes to his own. It was a mellow day in October 1760, a little more than six years since the day when Market Drayton gave rein to its enthusiasm in honor of Clive. From a flagstaff newly erected on the roof of the Four Alls on the Newport Road, a square of bunting flapped in the breeze. Inside the inn the innkeeper was drawing a pint of ale for his one solitary customer, a shambling countryman with a shock of very red hair, and eyes of innocent blue. "There, that makes a quart, Tummus Biles, and 'tis as much as your turnip head can safely carry." He passed the can across the bar on a hook that projected from a wooden socket in his sleeve. "Why, now, Mr. Bulger," said Tummus, the tranter, "what fur do you go fur to miscall me like other fowk? I've been miscalled ever since that day I drove a stranger into Market Drayton six year ago. I mind me he had a red feather in his cap, and not knowing my name was plain Tummus, he called me Jehu, he did, and I never forgot it. Ay, and I tell ya what, Mr. Bulger: it took me two year to find out why he give me such an uncommon name. I mind I was sittin' by a hayrick of Mr. Burke's--that was long afore he was lamed by that terrible horse o' his--and ponderin' on that heathen name, when all at once it comed to me like a flash o' lightnin'. "'Jehu!' says I to myself. 'I've got ya at last.' Ya see, when that stranger saw me, I were drivin' a horse. Well, I says to my horse, 'Gee-ho!' says I. Not knowing my true chrisom name, the stranger takes up my words an' fits 'em to me. 'Gee-ho!' says I; 'Gee-ho!' says he; only bein' a kind o' furriner he turns it into 'Jehu'; an' the name fits me uncommon. Hee hee!" "I may be wrong," said Bulger, "but 'tis my belief 'Hee haw!' would fit you a big sight better. But hark! en't them the bells a-ringin'?"