If his father received him the others would follow.

If he was repulsed, he must seek out some other way.
This over he would find St.George.He knew exactly where his uncle was, although he had not said so to Pawson.

He was not at Coston's, nor anywhere in the vicinity of Wesley, but at Craddock, on the bay--a small country house some miles distant, where he and his dogs had often spent days and weeks during the ducking season.

St.George had settled down there to rest and get away from his troubles; that was why he had not answered Pawson's letters.
Striding along with his alert, springing step, he swung through the deserted and unguarded Marsh Market, picked his way between the piles of produce and market carts, and plunging down a narrow street leading to the wharf, halted before a door over which swung a lantern burning a green light.

Here he entered.
Although it was now near midnight, there were still eight or ten seafaring men in the room--several of them members of his own crew aboard the Mohican.