"Don't be angry, Richard." said the old gentleman. "What is there to be
angry about?"
"I don't know what you mean. I'm not angry--I'm only curious. _Did_ you
find out who he was?"
"I did. His name was Goward. He was well known at Liverpool as a very
clever and a very dangerous man. Quite young at the time I am speaking
of, and a first-rate sailor; famous for taking command of unseaworthy
ships and vagabond crews. Report described him to me as having made
considerable sums of money in that way, for a man in his position;
serving firms, you know, with a bad name, and running all sorts of
desperate risks. A sad ruffian, Richard! More than once in trouble, on
both sides of the Atlantic, for acts of violence and cruelty. Dead, I
dare say, long since."
"Or possibly," said Launce, "alive, under another name, and thriving in
a new way of life, with more desperate risks in it, of some other sort."
"Are _you_ acquainted with the circumstances?" asked Turlington,
retorting Launce's question on him, with a harsh ring of defiance in his
brassy voice.
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