t tell the old
man what Wal'r told me; and that the wind was truly in his sail, when
he highsted of it for Barbados Harbour. Mr Carker,' said the Captain, in
the goodness of his nature, 'when I was here last, we was very pleasant
together. If I ain't been altogether so pleasant myself this morning, on
account of this poor lad, and if I have chafed again any observation of
yours that I might have fended off, my name is Ed'ard Cuttle, and I ask
your pardon.'

'Captain Cuttle,' returned the Manager, with all possible politeness, 'I
must ask you to do me a favour.'

'And what is it, Sir?' inquired the Captain.

'To have the goodness to walk off, if you please,' rejoined the Manager,
stretching forth his arm, 'and to carry your jargon somewhere else.'

Every knob in the Captain's face turned white with astonishment and
indignation; even the red rim on his forehead faded, like a rainbow
among the gathering clouds.

'I tell you what, Captain Cuttle,' said the Manager, shaking his
forefinger at him, and showing him all his teeth, but still amiably
smiling, 'I was much too lenient with you when you came here before. You
belong to an artful and audacious set of people. In my desire to save
young what's-his-name from being kicked out of this place, neck and
crop, my good Captain, I tolerated you; but for once, and only once.
Now, go, my friend!'

The Captain was absolutely rooted to the ground, and speechless--

'Go,' said the good-humoured Manager, gathering up his skirts, and
standing astride upon the hearth-rug, 'like a sensible fellow, and let
us have no turning out, or any such violent measures. If Mr Dombey
were here, Captain, you might be obliged to leave in a more ignominious
manner, possibly. I merely say, Go!'

The Captain, laying his ponderous hand upon his chest, to assist himself
in fetching a deep breath, looked at Mr Carker from head to foot, and
looked round the little room, as if he did not clearly understand where
he was, or in what company.

'You are deep, Captain Cuttle,' pursued Carker, with the easy and
vivacious frankness of a man of the world who knew the world too well
to be ruffled by any discovery of misdoing, when it did not
immediately concern himself, 'but you are not quite out of soundings,
either--neither you nor your absent friend, Captain. What have you done
with your absent friend, hey?'

Again the Captain laid his hand upon his chest. After drawing another
deep breath, he conjured h