"
"There, there!" said Martine, soothingly, "Mr. Jackson doesn't
mean any harm. He's only surprised to see you home again."
"Is this home? What's home?"
"It's the town where you were brought up. We'll make you
understand about it all before long. Now you shall have some
supper. Mr. Jackson is a warm friend of yours, and will see that
you have a good one."
"I reckon we'll get on ef he gives me plenty o' fodder. Bring it
toreckly, fer I'm hungry. Quit yer starin', kyant yer?" "Don't you
know me, Captain Nichol? Why, I--"
"Naw. Never seed ner yeared on yer. Did I ever nuss yer in a
hospital? I kyant reckerlect all on 'em. Get we uns some supper."
"That's the thing to do first, Jackson," added Martine, "Show us
upstairs to a private room and wait on us yourself. Please say
nothing of this till I give you permission."
They were soon established in a suitable apartment, in which a
fire was kindled. Nichol took a rocking-chair and acquiesced in
Martine's going out on the pretext of hastening supper.
The landlord received explanations which enabled him to co-operate
with Martine.
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