Instead of the realization of this bright dream, he had found only disappointment. Susan Trott placed the materials for the captain's favourite punch upon the table after she had removed the cloth; but Joseph Duncombe did not appear to see the cherry preparations for a comfortable evening. He rose hastily from his chair, put on his hat, and went out, much to the discomfiture of the worthy Mrs. Mugby. "After what I went through with standing over that roaring furnace of a kitchen-range, it does seem hard to see my sole just turned over and played with, like, and my chicking not so much as touched," said the dame. "Oh, Miss Rosamond, Miss Rosamond, you've a deal to answer for!" Captain Duncombe walked along the dark road between the cottage and Ratcliff Highway at a rapid pace. He soon reached the flaring lights of the sailors' quarter, through which he made his way as fast as he could to a respectable and comfortable little tavern near the Tower, much frequented by officers of the merchant service. He had promised to meet an old shipmate at this house, and was very glad of an excuse for spending his evening away from home. In the little parlour he found the friend he expected to see, and the two sailors took their glasses of grog together in a very friendly manner, and then parted, the captain's friend going away first, as he had a long distance to walk, in order to reach his suburban home. The captain was sitting by the fire meditating, and sipping his last glass of grog, when the door was opened, and some one came into the room. Joseph Duncombe looked up with a start as the new-comer entered, and, to his intense astonishment, recognized George Jernam. "Jernam!" he cried; "you in London? Well, this is the greatest surprise of all." "Indeed, Captain Duncombe," answered the other, coolly; "the 'Albatross' only entered the port of London this afternoon. This is the first place I have come to, and of all men on earth I least expected to meet you here." "And from your tone, youngster, it seems as if the surprise were by no means a pleasant one," cried Joseph Duncombe. "May I ask how Rosamond Duncombe's husband comes to address his wife's father in the tone you have just used to me?" "You are Rosamond's father," answered George; "that is sufficient reason that Valentine Jernam's brother should keep aloof from you." "The man's mad," muttered Captain Duncombe; "undoubtedly mad." "No," answered George Jernam, "I am not mad--I am only too acutely conscious of the misery of my position. I love your daughter, Joseph Duncombe; love her as fondly and truly as ever a man loved the wife of his choice. And yet here am I skulking in London, alone and miserable, at the hour when I should be hurrying back to the home of my darling. Dear though she is to me--truly as I love her--I dare not go back to her; for between her and me there rises the phantom of my murdered brother Valentine!"