The Captain of the Fancy, coming out of the streets where there was little light, into a small room where there was less, could see nothing of the occupants but shadowy outlines, and had to take it for granted that he had brought himself to anchor in a friendly port. He appeared to have no doubt upon the point; but then it belonged to his profession to be as confident in danger as in safety, and to be able to steer amidst rocks with a bold heart. So, like a true seaman, he kept his own counsel. If he had any evidence to guide him to a satisfactory assurance other than his sense of sight might have afforded him, he did not show the acknowledgment of it. But there being no sun, he could not take an observation; the darkness in the room was like a fog at sea. He may have had other evidence; voices that were familiar to him may have been one. As on the ocean, when night usurps the place of day, and not an hour of the twenty-four brings a glimpse of sunlight, peculiar murmurings of the solemn waters whisper to the skilful ear warning of danger or assurance of safety. But what familiar voices could he have heard in this humble room of crowded Soho, seeing that he was Captain of the Fancy, and just come ashore? And yet he seemed to consider himself quite at home, although he and those in whose presence he found himself could not distinguish each other's faces. He had a gruff and kindly voice had the Captain of the Fancy, and he wore rough blue trousers, and a rough pea-jacket, and a rough cap. But notwithstanding that everything about him outwardly was as rough as rough could be, it is not unreasonable to assume that he had a kind heart and a gentle spirit. Otherwise, he would scarcely have been here on his present errand, where there was no freight charges to receive--nothing but the overflowing gratitude of a poor little child, who had never had a doll, and who lived contentedly upon the thought of one, for a long, long time past. Insubstantial payment this, but evidently sufficient in the Captain's eyes, as his conduct proved. He could not have been more in his element on the ocean than he showed himself in this dark room, in which he had set foot for the first time on this summer evening.