"This is Captain Guy," Peters said.

The man removed his pipe and smiled.

"Edgar Perry ... ?" he said.

"Yes."

He extended his hand. I took it.

"Welcome aboard the Eidolon," he told me.

"Thank you. Glad to meet you," I said. "Everybody seems to know who I am."

He nodded.

"You have been the subject of some attention."

"Of what sort?" I asked.

The captain glanced at Peters, who looked away.

"Um, I'm not certain it is my place to say," he stated.

"Is there anyone around who might be able to say?"

"Of course," he said. "There is Mr. Ellison."

He looked to Peters once more, and Peters looked away again.

"Mr. Seabright Ellison," he said then, as if that explained something.

"Do you think I might be able to make the acquaintance of this gentleman?" I inquired.

Peters snorted and took hold of my wrist.

"Come along," he said. "We'll be about that business right now."

"Just what sort of vessel is this?" I asked then.

Captain Guy paused in the process of replacing his pipe and said, "Why, this is Mr. Ellison's yacht."

"Come along," Peters repeated, and we left the captain puffing in the fog.

He led me below, and had I not already been informed I should have guessed from the fine woods and the high level of craftsmanship employed in facings and moldings that the ship must be a pleasure craft devoted to private use rather than a commercial vessel. And as we made our way, I wondered that Dirk Peters rather than Captain Guy was conducting me to my visit with the owner. Might he be somewhat more than the common seaman I had taken him for?

He halted before a door carved with swimming dragons and rapped sharply upon it.

"Who is it?" someone called from the other side.

"Peters," he replied. "An' Perry's with me."