Yes!  ’Bias, too, had a summer-house; not precisely similar in shape, however.  Its roof was a lean-to, and its frontage narrower; but of this Captain Cai could not be sure.  He was short of stature, and with toes digging into the crevices of the wall and hands clutching at its coping he could take no very accurate survey.  He dropped back upon terra firma and hurried up the flights of steps to the roadway, in haste to descend from it into ’Bias’s garden and resolve his doubts.

For you must understand that the two cottages comprised by the name of Harbour Terrace were (according to Mr Rogers) “as like as two peas, even down to their water-taps,” and even by name distinguished only as Number 1 and Number 2:  and that, taking this similarity on trust, Captain Cai had chosen Number 2, Because—­well, simply because it was Number 2.  If inadvertently he, being first in the field, had collared the better summer-house!—­The very thought of it set him perspiring.

At the head of the garden, to his annoyance, he found Mr Philp leaning over the gate.

“Ah, Good morning!” said Mr Philp.  “You was expectin’ me, o’ course.”

“Good morning,” returned Captain Cai.  “Expectin’ you?  No, I wasn’t.  Why?”

“About that hat.  I’ve brought you the three-an’-six.”  He held out the coins in his palm.

“You can’t have it just now.  I’m in a hurry.”

“So I see,” said Mr Philp deliberately, not budging from the gate.  “It don’t improve a hat as a rule.”

“What d’ye mean?”

“Perspiration works through the linin’.  I’ve seen hats ruined that way.”

“Very well, then:  we’ll call the bargain off.  The fact is, I’d forgot about it; and you can’t very well have the hat now.  ’Tis my only one, an’—­well the fact is, I’m due to pay a call.”

“Where?”

“I don’t see as ‘tis any business o’ yours,” answered Captain Cai with vexation; “but, if you want to know, I’ve to call on my landlady, Mrs Bosenna.”

“Is that where you’re hurryin’ just now?”

“Well, no:  not at this moment,” Captain Cai had to confess.

“Where, then?”

“Oh, look here—­”

“You needn’t tell, if you don’t want to.  But I’m goin’ to a funeral at eleven o’clock,” said Mr Philp.  “Eleven A.M.,” he added pointedly.  “Not that I hold with mornin’ funerals in a general way:  but the corpse is old Mrs Wedlake, and I wasn’t consulted.”

“Relative?” asked Captain Cai.

“No relation at all; though I don’t see as it matters.”  Mr Philp was cheerful but obdurate.  “A bargain’s a bargain, as I take it.”

“That fact is—­”

“And a man’s word ought to be good as his bond.  Leastways that’s how I look at it.”

“Here, take the darned thing!” exclaimed Captain Cai.  His action, however, was less impulsive than his speech:  he removed the hat carefully, lowering his head and clutching the brim between both hands.  A small parcel lay inside.