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“I thought we were agreed not to mention it again,” said Hartnoll, firing up.

Said I, “But there’s my view of it to be considered. Suppose now we put it on to our first prize-money–whoever makes the first haul to pay the whole ten shillings, and if we make it together, then each to pay five?”

“That won’t do,” said Hartnoll. “My head don’t seem able to follow you very clearly, but if we make our first haul together, the matter remains where it is.”

“Very well,” I yielded. “Then I must get ahead of you, to get quits.”

“You won’t, though,” said Hartnoll, pushing back his chair, and so dismissing the subject.

Now the evening being young, I proposed that we should sally forth together and view the town–in other words (though I avoided them) that we should flaunt our uniforms in the streets of Portsmouth. Hartnoll demurred: the boat (said he) might arrive in our absence. I rang for the waiter again, and took counsel with him. The waiter began by answering that the Blue Posts, though open day and night, would take it as a favour if gentlemen patronising the house would make it convenient to knock-in before midnight, and, if possible, retire to their rooms before that hour. He understood our desire to see the town; “it was, in fact, the usual thing, under the circumstances.” If I would not take it as what he might call (and did) call a libbaty, there was a good many bad characters knocking about Portsmouth, pickpockets included, and especially at fair-time.

“Fair-time?” I asked.

“At the back of the town–Kingston way–you will find it,” said he, with a jerk of the thumb.

“But,” said I, “the frigate might send off a boat for us.”

“Not a chance of it to-night, sir,” said the waiter. “The southerly breeze has been bringing up a fog these two hours past, and the inside of the harbour is thick as soup. More by token, I’ve already sent word to the chambermaid to fill a couple of warming-pans. You’re booked with us, gentlemen, till to-morrow morning.”

Sure enough, descending to the street, we found it full of fog; and either the fog was of remarkable density, or Portsmouth furnished with the worst street-lamps in the world, for we had not walked five hundred yards before it dawned on me that to find our hostelry again might not be an entirely simple matter. Maybe the port wine had induced a haze of its own upon my sense of locality. I fancied, too, that the fresh air was affecting Hartnoll, unless his gait feigned a sea-roll to match his uniform. I felt a delicacy in asking him about it.

Another thing that surprised me was the emptiness of the streets. I had always imagined Portsmouth to be a populous town . . . but possibly its inhabitants were congregated around the fair, towards which we set ourselves to steer, guided by the tunding of distant drums. It mattered little If we lost our bearings, since everybody in Portsmouth must know the Blue Posts.

“Tell you what it is, Rodd,” said Hartnoll, pulling up in a by-street and picking his words deliberately,–“tell you what accounts for it,”–he waved a hand at the emptiness surrounding us. “It’s the press. Very night for it; and the men all hiding within doors.”

“Nonsense,” said I. “It’s a deal likelier to be the Fat Woman or the Two-headed Calf.”

“It’s the press,” insisted Hartnoll: and for the moment, when we emerged out of a side lane upon a square filled with flaring lights, the crashing of drums and cymbals, and the voices of showmen yelling in front of their booths, I had a suspicion that he was right. One or two women, catching sight of our uniforms, edged away swiftly, and, as they went, peered back into the darkness of the lane behind us. A few minutes later, as we dodged around the circumference of the crowd in search of an opening, we ran up against one of the women with her man in tow. She was arguing with him in a low, eager sort of voice, and he followed sulkily. At sight of us again she fetched up with a gasp of breath, almost with a squeal. The man drew himself up defiantly and began to curse us, but she quickly interrupted him, thrusting her open hand over his mouth, and drew him away down a dark courtyard.