days later, while there was still a hint of the past night's coolness in the morning air, three persons arrived from the jungled mountains at the gate of the governor's house on Fort Royal Hill. They were Peter Griffon and Big Tom and Sailor Penny's man Henry.
Peter wore decent clothes, including a skirted coat and a three-cocked hat, and a hanger with brass hilt and shark-skin grip in a scabbard of black leather. But for the features and expression of his thin face, the cool superiority of his level glance—which was the thing that had driven Caleb Stave to black rage many a time—and the carriage of his back and shoulders, he might have passed for the master of some trafficking bark or brig. Big Tom's costume was neither noteworthy nor elaborate—just breeches cut and stitched up from an old sail and a floppy hat of his own weaving. The clever Henry was in his favorite disguise of an old mammy sweet seller, wooden tray and all.
They had come with the reluctant consent of Sailor Penny. The old man had worn himself into a fever with futile rage and impotent arguments against the iron of Griffon's purpose. At last he had given in, though with bitter sneers and predictions of disaster. What else could he do? This young fool was a Griffon of Berkshire, and the stubborn girl was a Penny, and now all his ambitions and longings were centered in these two—his dreams and heartaches for the green downs and groves of his youth and for peace and gentility in his old age.
Yes, that tough and battered survivor of scores of questionable ventures, who had been half a gentleman in his youth, longed now to become wholly a gentleman by the might of wealth and the magic of the name of Griffon. Young Griffon's will had beaten him at last; and now more than half his wealth was gone for a surety, and all of it was risked, and fever boiled his blood.
"I have business with the governor," said Griffon to the sentry at the gate.
The sentry was quite obviously not a soldier but a seaman. He was not armed with a musket, nor with a bayonet heeled with a wooden plug to fix into the muzzle of a musket, but with a cutlass in his hand and two pistols in his belt. He gave Griffon a queer, questioning look. He turned his head and whistled, and was joined in a moment by two other fellows of unmistakable salty character.
"'E 'as business wi' the governor," he told them.
Then all three regarded Griffon and his companions strangely.
"I am here to see the governor on an important matter," announced Griffon with dignity.
Another seaman joined the group, a bo'sun this with a silver call dangling from his neck on a lanyard. He had heard Griffon's second statement of his business. He treated Griffon and Big Tom and Henry to swift but searching glances. He pulled a forelock to Griffon, whispered a few words in the sentry's ear, then requested Griffon politely to follow him.
He led the way across a narrow1 court, into the big house, along a narrow hall nagged with gray stone. He rapped on a tall mahogany door, opened it, bowed Griffon across the threshold and entered close at his heels. He closed the door behind them, but kept a hand on the knob.
"A gentleman wi' important business wi' the governor, sir," he said, and there was a suggestion in both voice and manner of extraordinary significance in the statement and of lively expectation concerning the effect of it on the person addressed.
The room was not large, but it was of an imposing height. Four tall windows in one wall, partially shuttered, looked out over the town and the harbor. The room was unfurnished save for a large table at which sat a gentleman of red and weathered visage, high-nosed, baldish, with epaulets on the shoulders of his blue coat. The gentleman's coat was open from chin to waist, disclosing linen of the whitest and finest. On the desk lay several rolled charts or maps, many documents both open and folded, a bow-wig, a silver-hilted sword in a scabbard of varnished black leather and a number of books.
The gentleman's glance was on Griffon's face. It had been there, unwavering, since the moment of the opening of the door.
"Ah, with the governor," he said, and laid aside his pen and continued to regard the young man.
Griffon bowed. "Have I the honor to address the governor?" he asked.
"You do not know him, then?" queried the other.
"I have seen him, sir, but never close at hand. He looked shorter than yourself."
"True. I am performing his duties for the time being. I am the commander of the frigate in the harbor. Colonel Harran is indisposed. You have but recently come to port, I take it."