There he feasted again upon the luxurious provision that the spinsters had been making for the appetite that the new air had given him.

He ate roast duck, stuffed with a paste of large island mushrooms, preserved since their season, and tarts of bake-apple berries, and cranberries, and the small dark mokok berry--three kinds of tart he ate, with fresh cream upon them, and the spinster innkeepers applauded his feat.

They stood around and rejoiced at his eating, and again they told him in chorus that he must not go to the other island where the people were sick.
It was just then that a great knock came at the front door; the loudness of the wind had silenced the approaching footsteps.

A square-built, smooth-faced man, well wrapped in a coat of ox fur, came into the house, asking for Caius Simpson by name.

His face was one which it was impossible to see without remarking the lines of subtle intelligence displayed in its leathery wrinkles.