all the householders along Delamere Terrace--the constable
intervened; but we retained the spoil.

At the shut of dusk, as we kicked the football in triumph about our
own back yard, Mrs. Stimcoe sought me out with a letter to be
conveyed to Captain Branscome. I took it and ran.

The lamplighter, going his rounds, met me at the corner of Killigrew
Street and directed me to the alley in which the captain's lodgings
lay. The alley was dark, but a little within the entrance my eyes
caught the glimmer of a highly polished brass door-knocker, and upon
this I rapped at a venture.

Captain Branscome opened to me. The house had no passage. Its front
door opened directly upon a whitewashed room, with a round table in
the centre, covered with charts. On the table, too, stood a lamp,
the light of which dazzled me for a moment. On the walls hung the
captain's sword of honour (above the mantelpiece), a couple of
bookshelves, well stored, and a panel with a ship upon it--a brig in
full sail--carved in high relief and painted. My eyes, however, were
not for these, but for a man who sat at the table, poring over the
charts, and lifted his head nervously to blink at me. It was Captain
Coffin.

While I stared at him Captain Branscome took the letter from me.
It contained some pieces of silver, as I knew from its weight
and the feel of it--five shillings, as I judged, or perhaps
seven-and-sixpence. As his hand weighed it I saw a sudden relief on
his face, and realized how grey and pinched it had been when he
opened the door to me.