Accordingly, they set out together, to find a house of refreshment; and presently came upon one, in a quiet street, with a tiny bar—empty—round a corner. Here they called for what the Captain termed “a toothful,” and were soon deep in conversation. “You haven’t told me yet when you sail again,” said Philip, when he had parried the other’s questions as much as possible. “I suppose you’ll be quite glad to get on board again.” “Well—not exactly,” replied the Captain—whose name, by the way, was Peter Quist. “I’m a thinkin’ of givin’ it up altogether. Yer see—it’s this way,” he added, confidentially. “I’ve put by a bit of money, an’ I’m thinkin’ of settlin’ down ashore. The sea’s been my business—an’ I want somethin’ else for my pleasure. I’m a thinkin’,” he went on slowly, pulling meditatively at his whiskers—“I’m a thinkin’ of goin’ in for the showman line, with a dash of the circus. I was always fond of ’osses—an’ I believe as fat ladies and two-’eaded babbies is profitable—always supposin’ as Mrs. Quist don’t get spiteful about the fat ladies. I’m now a lookin’ out for anybody as ’as got a good second-’and circus to dispose of, with a fat lady or two goin’ cheap.” “Well,” said Philip, laughing, “I hope you’ll succeed. But what brings you into this part of the world?” “I come down ’ere, to see a man I thought ’ad got wot I wanted. I’ve put up at a nice little place, down near the river; I was makin’ for it, w’en I run foul of them land-sharks.” “What place is it?” asked Philip. “Well, Mr. Crowdy—leastways, I should say—Mr. Chater—they calls it ‘The Three Watermen.’” CHAPTER VI AT THE SIGN OF “THE THREE WATERMEN” For a few moments Philip Chater sat gazing at Peter Quist, as though he half suspected that the man knew more than his guileless face proclaimed, and that he was playing a joke upon him. Seeing, however, that his friend appeared to be completely in earnest, and that he had simply answered his question as straightforwardly as it had been put, he merely remarked, in a surprised tone— “Why—what takes you to ‘The Three Watermen’?” “I was a cruisin’ about in these parts—bein’ near the water, and so comin’ more nateral like—w’en I turned in there for a toothful, an’ found they let beds. Wantin’ a bed—(for man were not made to sleep on the ’ard ground)—I took it. It looks over the river, an’ is cheap—which is a consideration.” It suddenly occurred to Philip that he might well make use of this man, to discover whether or not it would be safe to venture into the place that night. If, as the Shady ’un had suggested, he was expected to arrive in company with the man known as the Count, and if, further, that man knew anything of the murder of the real Dandy Chater, Philip’s position was precarious in the extreme; indeed, safety only lay in the company of those people who were ignorant of the death of his twin brother.