To my great surprise the other one, the long individual with drooping white moustache, had also found his way there.

I remembered I had seen him slinking away during the quarrel, in a half prance, half shuffle, and trying very hard not to look scared.

He was no stranger to the port, it seems, and in his distress was able to make tracks straight for Mariani's billiard-room and grog-shop near the bazaar.

That unspeakable vagabond, Mariani, who had known the man and had ministered to his vices in one or two other places, kissed the ground, in a manner of speaking, before him, and shut him up with a supply of bottles in an upstairs room of his infamous hovel.

It appears he was under some hazy apprehension as to his personal safety, and wished to be concealed.