"There’s no cause for alarm, sir—leastways not while I’m on deck. I’d best introduce you proper like, then you’ll be safe any time, fair weather or foul. This here’s Comely; and this is Mr. Hardy of the _Fury_: twiggy-voo, as the mounseers say? Now pat him, sir." Jack felt a little uneasy, but knowing that it is best to put a bold face on it, whether with dogs or men, he stooped and patted the massive head. With an expression that seemed to him more sinister than ever, the dog stuck out a red tongue and licked his hand. "Now all’s snug and shipshape, sir. Comely’s your friend for life." "Queer name that." "True, sir. It was like this. I had a notion of calling him Handsome, ’cos handsome is as handsome does, and he does most uncommon handsome. But thinking it over between watches, as you may say, it seemed like poking fun at the poor beast that couldn’t hit back, and I cast about for a name that would mean the same but not quite so strong. I tacked about for a time without catching a fair breeze, sir. Then all at once I remembered a word in my Bible: ’black but comely.’ Comely’s a good name, thinks I, and his muzzle’s black, and my name’s Gumley, so Comely it shall be: and Comely it is, sir. We’re a pair, I can tell you, Comely and Gumley." "A capital match," said Jack laughing. "But I say, why do you barricade yourself in like that?" Gumley had replaced padlock, bolts and bars. "Any one would think you were making ready to stand a siege." "Well, sir, I won’t say ’tis to be ready for Boney’s landing, and I won’t say ’tisn’t." He was now stumping up the path toward the cottage, and said no more. Jack saw that he did not mean to enlighten him, and changed the subject. "I say, Gumley, why didn’t you help Mr. Gudgeon out yesterday? You went on and left me to do it." "Ay, ay, sir. The truth is, Mr. Gudgeon and me bean’t, so to say, on speaking terms." Jack felt that there was something puzzling about all this. Gumley was not popular with the villagers, Mr. Bastable had said; the old sailor had confessed to a feud or at least a coolness between himself and his neighbor on the opposite cliff. There was an honest look about his weather-beaten face; he did not seem to Jack morose or ill-tempered. What was at the bottom of this strange attitude of antagonism, shown by the man’s somewhat elaborate defenses? Well, after all, it did not matter to Jack; his leave would be up in a few days, and then his duty would take him to sea. He sat for some time in Gumley’s trim little parlor, where everything bespoke the handy Jack Tar, chatting about sea life in general and the _Ariadne_ in particular. Then the talk came round to Jack’s new vessel, the _Fury_, and brought up the question of smuggling.