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As I am taking out my pocket-book and pencil to put the names down, I may as well observe to you that this, wrote atop of the first page here, is my name and address: 'Silas Jonas Jorgan, Salem, Massachusetts, United States. If ever you take it in your head to run over any morning, I shall be glad to welcome you. Now, what may be the spelling of these said names?"
According to custom I am called Captain Jorgan, but I am no more a captain, bless your heart, than you are." "Perhaps you'll come into my parlour, sir, and take a chair?" said Mrs. Raybrock. "Ex-actly what I was going to propose myself, ma'am. After you." Thus replying, and enjoining Tom to give an eye to the shop, Captain Jorgan followed Mrs.
I am unwilling to interrupt Captain Jorgan, but I must do it. I knew something about that house." "You're aware," pursued his steward, "that I was once in the broking business, Captain Jorgan?" "I was aware," said the captain, "that you had failed in that calling, and in half the businesses going, Tom." "Not quite so, Captain Jorgan; but I failed in the broking business.
"Yes," said the captain, still looking at the fire, "I make up stories and tell 'em to that child. Stories of shipwreck on desert islands, and long delay in getting back to civilised lauds. It is to stories the like of that, mostly, that Silas Jorgan Plays the organ."
Captain Jorgan, up and out betimes, had put the whole village of Lanrean under an amicable cross-examination, and was returning to the King Arthur's Arms to breakfast, none the wiser for his trouble, when he beheld the young fisherman advancing to meet him, accompanied by a stranger.
That done, the captain put his hand in the deep breast-pocket of his long-skirted blue coat, and took out of it a strong square case-bottle, not a large bottle, but such as may be seen in any ordinary ship's medicine-chest. Setting this bottle on the table without removing his hand from it, Captain Jorgan then spake as follows:
Thus a comely elderly woman, short of stature, plump of form, sparkling and dark of eye, who, perfectly clean and neat herself, stood in the midst of her perfectly clean and neat arrangements, and surveyed Captain Jorgan with smiling curiosity.
"Were to have been!" interrupted Captain Jorgan. "And are to be? Hey?" Young Raybrock shook his head, and traced out with his fore-finger the words, "poor father's five hundred pounds," in the written paper. "Go along," said the captain. "Five hundred pounds? Yes?"
And, in her loving little way, kissed her hand to him, and possibly by implication to the young fisherman, too, as the latter held the parlour- door open for the captain to pass out. "The stairs are very narrow, sir," said Alfred Raybrock to Captain Jorgan. "Like my cabin-stairs," returned the captain, "on many a voyage." "And they are rather inconvenient for the head."
Captain Jorgan, having doubled himself up to laugh with that hearty good- nature which is quite exultant in the innocent happiness of other people, had undoubted himself, and was going to start a new subject, when there appeared coming down the lower ladders of stones, a man whom he hailed as "Tom Pettifer, Ho!"
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