I expected them last night.
They'll likely come down with the tide, soon after midnight to-night.
And now I'll ask you, what brought you aboard this ship, here in Dantzic
River, Mr. Cartoner?"
"A letter from a Frenchman you know as well as I do--Paul Deulin. Like
to read it?"
And Cartoner laid the letter before Captain Cable, who smiled
contemptuously. He knew what was expected of a gentleman better than
even to glance at it as it lay before him in its envelope.
"No, I wouldn't," he answered. He scratched his head reflectively,
and looked beneath his bushy brows at Cartoner as if he expected the
ship-chandler's port to have an immediate effect of some sort.
"Got your luggage in the boat alongside?" he asked, at length.
"No. It's at the station."
"Then let me send a hand ashore for it. Got three Germans furard. You'll
come aboard and see this thing through, I hope."
"Thank you," answered Cartoner. He handed Captain Cable the ticket for
his luggage.
"Mate's receipt?" inquired the captain.
And Cartoner nodded. The captain pushed the decanter towards his guest
as he rose to go and give the necessary orders.
"No stint of the wine," he said, and went out on deck.
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