Why, it's time for us to go."

(_He goes tapping up to door, turns on the threshold, and listens. GAUNT
turns a page. PEW, with a grimace, strikes his hand upon the pocket with
the keys, and goes._)

ACT II

_The Stage represents the parlour of the "Admiral Benbow" inn.
Fireplace, R., with high-backed settles on each side; in front of
these, and facing the audience, R., a small table laid with a cloth.
Tables, L., with glasses, pipes, etc. Broadside ballads on the wall.
Outer door of inn, with half-door in L., corner back; door, R., beyond
the fireplace; window with red half-curtains; spittoons; candles on
both the front tables; night without_

SCENE I

_PEW; afterwards MRS. DRAKE, out and in._

PEW (_entering_). Kind Christian friends----(_listening, then dropping
the whine_). Hey? nobody! Hey? A grog-shop not two cable-lengths from
the Admiral's back-door, and the Admiral not there? I never knew a
seaman brought so low: he ain't but the bones of the man he used to be.
Bear away for the New Jerusalem, and this is what you run aground on, is
it? Good again; but it ain't Pew's way; Pew's way is rum.--Sanded floor.
Rum is his word, and rum his motion.--Settle--chimbly--settle
again--spittoon--table rigged for supper. Table--glass. (_Drinks
heeltap._) Brandy and water; and not enough of it to wet your eye; damn
all greediness, I say. Pot (_drinks_), small beer--a drink that I ab'or
like bilge! What I want is rum. (_Calling and rapping with stick on
table._) Halloa, there! House, ahoy!

MRS. DRAKE (_without_). Coming, sir, coming. (_She enters, R._) What can
I do----? (_Seeing PEW._) Well, I never did! Now, beggar-man, what's for
you?

PEW. Rum, ma'am, rum; and a bit o' supper.

MRS. DRAKE. And a bed to follow, I shouldn't wonder!

PEW. _And_ a bed to follow: _if_ you please.

MRS. DRAKE. This is the "Admiral Benbow," a respectable house, and
receives none but decent company; and I'll ask you to go somewhere else,
for I don't like the looks of you.

PEW. Turn me away? Why, Lord love you, I'm David Pew--old David Pew--him
as was Benbow's own particular cox'n. You wouldn't turn away old Pew
from the sign of his late commander's 'ed? Ah, my British female, you'd
have used me different if you'd seen me in the fight! (There laid old
Benbow, both his legs shot off, in a basket, and the blessed spy-glass
at his eye to that same hour: a picter, ma'am, of naval daring: when a
round shot