carpentering--boat-building especially. My very absence of mind
makes me indifferent to surroundings. In short, I am a mild man."

Mr. Fogo got off his barrel, went to the window, sighed softly, and
returned. Something in his manner imposed silence on Caleb.

"We shall live here alone," he resumed. "It is even possible that,
to ensure solitude, I shall rent the cottage as well, and install you
there. Above all things, remember," with sudden sternness, "that no
woman is to come near this house--I shall even expect you to do your
utmost to prevent their landing on the quay below. That, I think, is
all. I now wish you to row down to the station and get my
portmanteau. After that, with this money procure a couple of
hammocks, besides provisions and whatever will be necessary for the
night, not forgetting soap and candles. To-morrow we will take in
further stock."

Caleb was about to make some answer when the garden gate creaked
heavily, and Peter Dearlove appeared in the dusk outside the window;
so he merely took the money, touched his forelock by way of
acknowledging his new employment, and retired. But it was noticeable
that once or twice on his way to the boat he had to pull himself up
and think a bit. Arrived on the quay, too, he stood for a moment or
so beside the boat in profound meditation.

"Come, Caleb Trotter!" he exclaimed, suddenly jumping in and seizing
the paddles; "this sort o' thing won't do, nohow. Here you be paid
for lookin' arter a gentl'm'n as wanders in hes wits, and fust news
es, you be doin' the same yoursel'. 'Tes terribul queer, though," he
added, and with that began to row towards town with an energy that