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How it will all end God only knows. I
understand you sufficiently. Leave the matter to me now. We will
have Dr. Barnes and Mr. and Mrs. Nichol here as soon as can be. I
suppose I had better see the captain a few moments and then take
Helen home."
Martine led the way into the other apartment, where Nichol,
rendered good-natured by his supper and a cigar, was conversing
sociably with the landlord. Mr. Kemble fairly trembled as he came
forward, involuntarily expecting that the man so well known to him
must give some sign of recognition.
Nichol paid no heed to him. He had been too long accustomed to see
strangers coming and going to give them either thought or
attention.
"I say, Hob't Ma'tine," he began, "don' yer cuss me fer eatin' all
the supper. I 'lowed ter this Jackson, as yer call 'im, that yer'd
get a bite somewhar else, en he 'lowed yer would."
"All right, Nichol; I'm glad you had a good supper."
"I say, Jackson, this Ma'tine's a cur'ous chap--mo cur'ous than I
be, I reckon. He's been actin' cur'ous ever since he seed me in
the horspital.


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