“Steady, steady!” said the Captain to Diogenes, “what’s amiss with you? You don’t seem easy in your mind tonight, my boy!”
Diogenes wagged his tail, but pricked up his ears immediately afterwards, and gave utterance to another fragment of a bark; for which he apologised to the Captain, by again wagging his tail.
“It’s my opinion, Di,” said the Captain, looking thoughtfully at his cards, and stroking his chin with his hook, “as you have your doubts of Mrs. Richards; but if you’re the animal I take you to be, you’ll think better o’ that; for her looks is her commission. Now, Brother:” to Mr. Toots: “if so be as you’re ready, heave ahead.”
The Captain spoke with all composure and attention to the game, but suddenly his cards dropped out of his hand, his mouth and eyes opened wide, his legs drew themselves up and stuck out in front of his chair, and he sat staring at the door with blank amazement. Looking round upon the company, and seeing that none of them observed him or the cause of his astonishment, the Captain recovered himself with a great gasp, struck the table a tremendous blow, cried in a stentorian roar, “Sol Gills ahoy!” and tumbled into the arms of a weather-beaten peacoat that had come with Polly into the room.
In another moment, Walter was in the arms of the weather-beaten peacoat. In another moment, Florence was in the arms of the weather-beaten peacoat. In another moment, Captain Cuttle had embraced Mrs. Richards and Miss Nipper, and was violently shaking hands with Mr. Toots, exclaiming, as he waved his hook above his head, “Hooroar, my lad, hooroar!” To which Mr. Toots, wholly at a loss to account for these proceedings, replied with great politeness, “Certainly, Captain Gills, whatever you think proper!”
The weather-beaten peacoat, and a no less weather-beaten cap and comforter belonging to it, turned from the Captain and from Florence back to Walter, and sounds came from the weather-beaten peacoat, cap, and comforter, as of an old man sobbing underneath them; while the shaggy sleeves clasped Walter tight. During this pause, there was an universal silence, and the Captain polished his nose with great diligence. But when the peacoat, cap, and comforter lifted themselves up again, Florence gently moved towards them; and she and Walter taking them off, disclosed the old Instrument-maker, a little thinner and more careworn than of old, in his old Welsh wig and his old coffee-coloured coat and basket buttons, with his old infallible chronometer ticking away in his pocket.
“Chock full o’ science,” said the radiant Captain, “as ever he was! Sol Gills, Sol Gills, what have you been up to, for this many a long day, my ould boy?”
“I’m half blind, Ned,” said the old man, “and almost deaf and dumb with joy.”
“His wery woice,” said the Captain, looking round with an exultation to which even his face could hardly render justice—“his wery woice as chock full o’ science as ever it was! Sol Gills, lay to, my lad, upon your own wines and fig-trees like a taut ould patriark as you are, and overhaul them there adwentures o’ yourn, in your own formilior woice. ’Tis the woice,” said the Captain, impressively, and announcing a quotation with his hook, “of the sluggard, I heerd him complain, you have woke me too soon, I must slumber again. Scatter his ene‑mies, and make ’em fall!”
The Captain sat down with the air of a man who had happily expressed the feeling of everybody present, and immediately rose again to present Mr. Toots, who was much disconcerted by the arrival of anybody, appearing to prefer a claim to the name of Gills.
“Although,” stammered Mr. Toots, “I had not the pleasure of your acquaintance, Sir, before you were—you were—”
“Lost to sight, to memory dear,” suggested the Captain, in a low voice.
“Exactly so, Captain Gills!” assented Mr. Toots. “Although I had not the pleasure of your acquaintance, Mr.—Mr. Sols,” said Toots, hitting on that name in the inspiration of a bright idea, “before that happened, I have the greatest pleasure, I assure you, in—you know, in knowing you. I hope,” said Mr. Toots, “that you’re as well as can be expected.”
With these courteous words, Mr. Toots sat down blushing and chuckling.
The old Instrument-maker, seated in a corner between Walter and Florence, and nodding at Polly, who was looking on, all smiles and delight, answered the Captain thus:
“Ned Cuttle, my dear boy, although I have heard something of the changes of events here, from my pleasant friend there—what a pleasant face she has to be sure, to welcome a wanderer home!” said the old man, breaking off, and rubbing his hands in his old dreamy way.
“Hear him!” cried the Captain gravely. “ ’Tis woman as seduces all mankind. For which,” aside to Mr. Toots, “you’ll overhaul your Adam and Eve, brother.”
“I shall make a point of doing so, Captain Gills,” said Mr. Toots.
“Although I have heard something of the changes of events, from her,” resumed the Instrument-maker, taking his old spectacles from his pocket, and putting them on his forehead in his old manner, “they are so great and unexpected, and I am so overpowered by the sight of my
