Then he arranged the plumes of his hat and brushed some mud from them, gave himself a general shake, and was ready to make a start.

All this by a fugitive pursued by savage pirates on a desert island! But Dickory was a young man, and he wore the uniform of a naval officer.
After a brisk walk, which was somewhat longer than he had supposed it would be, Dickory reached the house behind the trees.

At a short distance burned the fire whose smoke he had seen.

Over the fire hung an iron pot.

Oh, blessed pot! A gentle breeze blew from the fire towards Dickory, and from the heavenly odour which was borne upon it he knew that something good to eat was cooking in that pot.
A man came quickly from behind the house.