Mr. Pettifer, still strangely moved, and now more moved than before, cut
the captain off as he backed across the room, and bespake him thus:--

"Captain Jorgan, I have been wishful to engage your attention, but I
couldn't do it. I am unwilling to interrupt Captain Jorgan, but I must
do it. _I_ knew something about that house."

The captain stood stock-still and looked at him,--with his (Mr.
Pettifer's) hat under his arm.

"You're aware," pursued his steward, "that I was once in the broking
business, Captain Jorgan?"

"I was aware," said the captain, "that you had failed in that calling,
and in half the businesses going, Tom."

"Not quite so, Captain Jorgan; but I failed in the broking business. I
was partners with my brother, sir. There was a sale of old office
furniture at Dringworth Brothers' when the house was moved from America
Square, and me and my brother made what we call in the trade a Deal
there, sir. And I'll make bold to say, sir, that the only thing I ever
had from my brother, or from any relation,--for my relations have mostly
taken property from me instead of giving me any,--was an old desk we
bought at that same sale, with a crack in it. My brother wouldn't have
given me even that, when we broke partnership, if it had been worth
anything."

"Where is that desk now?" said the captain.

"Well, Captain Jorgan," replied the steward, "I couldn't say for certain