While Miss Cory had been talking, the trio had been walking homewards. They hoped to have come across a belated cab or hansom by the way, but were not fortunate enough to do so. They were all, therefore, very glad when they reached home, where warmth, food, and rest awaited them. CHAPTER V. AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW GUISE. The ss. “Merry Maid” was making capital progress. She was well-engined, well-manned, her disc was well in evidence, and wind and weather were all that could be desired. The captain was in an unusually good humour, for, in addition to his regular means of making money over and above his salary, he had an extra good speculation on hand, in the shape of a young passenger whose supposed name was Paul Torrens, but whom we have known as Hugh Stavanger. Mr. Torrens, as we will also call him for a time, hardly looked like the typical fugitive from justice, for his face, as he sat talking to Captain Cochrane, was that of a man who feels exceedingly well pleased with himself. The two men were sitting in the cabin of the steamer. Before them stood bottles and glasses, and the clouded atmosphere of the apartment gave testimony to the supposition that both men were ardent votaries of the goddess Nicotine. “After all, it’s quite jolly to be at sea,” observed Mr. Torrens. “I expected to feel no end of squeamish.” To which elegant remark Captain Cochrane replied in kind: “And you haven’t turned a hair! I am glad of it too, for I hate to have to do with folk who get sea-sick. They are such an awful nuisance while ill, and are limp and unsociable for days sometimes, even after they are supposed to be over the worst of the visitation. A fellow who can take his share at the whisky bottle is more to my taste.” “Then I ought to suit you?” “Yes, you do. Perhaps better than you imagine.” “Indeed? I should like to know what you mean. It’s something new to be so well appreciated.” “It doesn’t take much to please me. Kindred tastes and a well-lined pocket go a long way towards it.” “But if the owner of the well-lined pocket declines to part with the rhino?” “In this case there is something more at stake than mere rhino, and I think that the present possessor of it will not dare refuse to go shares with me.” As Captain Cochrane said this he emphasised his meaning by such an unmistakably menacing look that Mr. Torrens shrank together as if struck, and grew pale to the very lips. “Of whom and of what are you speaking?” he stammered. But his whole manner showed that he entertained no doubt on the subject, and his companion was so sure of his position that he did not trouble himself to enter into explanations, but smiled coolly and remarked: “Suppose we go into my berth to discuss matters more fully? It may save future trouble if we come to an understanding at once, and this place is perhaps not quite private enough.”