Wilks, with an instinctive feeling that the matter was one to be
discussed in private, led the way indoors. He began to apologize for the
disordered condition of the room, but Jack Nugent, interrupting him
brusquely, began to relate his own adventures of the past few hours.
Mrs. Kingdom listened to the narrative with unexpected calmness. She
knew the cause of her nephew's discomfiture. It was the glass of whisky
acting on a system unaccustomed to alcohol, and she gave a vivid and
moving account of the effects of a stiff glass of hot rum which she had
once taken for a cold. It was quite clear to her that the captain had
put his son to bed; the thing to discover now was where he had put
himself.
"Sam knows something about it," said her nephew, darkly; "there's
something wrong."
"I know no more than a babe unborn," declared Mr. Wilks. "The last I see
of the cap'n 'e was a-sitting at this table opposite you."
"Sam wouldn't hurt a fly," said Miss Nugent, with a kind glance at her
favourite.
"Well, where is the governor, then?" inquired her brother. "Why didn't
he go home last night? He has never stayed out before."
"Yes, he has," said Mrs. Kingdom, folding her hands in her lap. "When
you were children. He came home at half-past eleven next morning, and
when I asked him where he'd been he nearly bit my head off.
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