“What do you want?” asked the captain, gruffly, as he stared him straight in the eye.

“I came to see you about your son’s marriage,” said the other.  “Are you still desirous of preventing it?”

“I’m sorry you’ve had the trouble,” said the captain, in a voice of suppressed anger; “and now may I ask you to get out of my house?”

Hardy bowed.  “I am sorry I have troubled you,” he said, calmly, “but I have a plan which I think would get your son out of this affair, and, as a business man, I wanted to make something out of it.”

The captain eyed him scornfully, but he was glad to see this well-looking, successful son of his old enemy tainted with such sordid views.  Instead of turning him out he spoke to him almost fairly.

“How much do you want?” he inquired.

“All things considered, I am asking a good deal,” was the reply.

“How much?” repeated the captain, impatiently.

Hardy hesitated.  “In exchange for the service I want permission to visit here when I choose,” he said, at length; “say twice a week.”

Words failed the captain; none with which he was acquainted seemed forcible enough for the occasion.  He faced his visitor stuttering with rage, and pointed to the door.

“Get out of my house,” he roared.

[Illustration:  “‘Get out of my house,’ he roared.]

“I’m sorry to have intruded,” said Hardy, as he crossed the room and paused at the door; “it is none of my business, of course.  I thought that I saw an opportunity of doing your son a good turn—­he is a friend of mine—­and at the same time paying off old scores against Kybird and Nathan Smith.  I thought that on that account it might suit you.  Good afternoon.”

He walked out into the hall, and reaching the front door fumbled clumsily with the catch.  The captain watching his efforts in grim silence began to experience the twin promptings of curiosity and temptation.

“What is this wonderful plan of yours?” he demanded, with a sneer.

“Just at present that must remain a secret,” said the other.  He came from the door and, unbidden, followed the captain into the room again.

“What do you want to visit at my house for?” inquired the latter, in a forbidding voice.

“To see your daughter,” said Hardy.

The captain had a relapse.  He had not expected a truthful answer, and, when it came, in the most matter-of-fact tone, it found him quite unprepared.  His first idea was to sacrifice his dignity and forcibly eject his visitor, but more sensible thoughts prevailed.

“You are quite sure, I suppose, that your visits would be agreeable to my daughter?” he said, contemptuously.

Hardy shook his head.  “I should come ostensibly to see you,” he said, cheerfully; “to smoke a pipe with you.”

“Smoke!” stuttered the captain, explosively; “smoke a pipe with me?”