“‘Look here, my friend,’ he said, after seeming to ponder for a moment, ’if you mean ill, you must have altered strangely from the Captain Branscome I used to know, and if you mean well you have timed your visit almost as strangely.’  He paused again.  ’Either you know what I mean, or you do not; if you do not, you will have to forgive a great deal in this reception; and you will, to begin with, forgive my asking you, on your word of honour, if on your journey hither you have overtaken or met or recognized any one hailing from Falmouth.  You do not answer,’ he added, after yet another pause.

“‘Why, as to that, sir,’ said I, ’since leaving Falmouth I have neither met nor overtaken any one of my acquaintance.  But, since you put it to me precisely, I will not swear that I have not recognized one.  A few minutes ago, standing at the head of the lane here, I saw a man cross it, presumably from this garden, and take the path leading through the plantation yonder.  It certainly strikes me that I knew the man, and I followed him down the lane here to make sure.’

“‘Why?’ the Major asked me.

“‘Because, sir,’ said I, ’it did not seem possible to me that the man I mean could have any business here; besides which, an hour or two before leaving Falmouth I had passed him in the street, and though he had, indeed, the use of his legs, he was too far gone in liquor to recognize me.’

“‘His name?’ the Major asked.

“‘Coffin, sir,’ said I; ’usually known as Captain Coffin, or Captain Danny.’

“‘A drunkard?’ he asked.

“‘A man given to liquor,’ said I, ’by fits and starts; but mild enough in an ordinary way.  You might call him the least bit touched in the upper story; of a loose, rambling head, at all events, as I can testify, who have taught him navigation—­or tried to.’

“The Major, though he could not see me, seemed to study me with his blind eyes.  He stood erect, with the bundle clipped under his left arm; and the bundle I made out to be a flag, rolled up and strapped about with its own lanyard.

“‘One more question, Captain Branscome,’ said he.  ’This Captain Coffin, as you call him—­is he, to the best of your knowledge, an honest man?’

“I answered that I had heard question of Coffin’s sanity, but never of his honesty.

“‘His sanity, eh?’ said the Major; and I could see he was hung in stays, but he picked up his wind after a second or two, and paid off on another tack.  ‘Well, well,’ he said, ’we’ll drop talking of this Coffin, and turn to the business that brings you here.  What is it?  For I take it you’ve walked all the way from Falmouth for something more than the sake of a chat over old times.’