“A couple of hundred pounds? Is it really so important for you to leave Flushing to-day? We have hardly landed!”
“Yes, it is very important. And I have already told you that I don’t care how much it costs.”
The skipper, who had evidently begun to waver, rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“H’m! Anyhow, I couldn’t do it myself. I have important information for the Herr major, and he would have a right to blame me, if I went away without even so much as speaking to him. But perhaps—perhaps I might find out a skipper who would take the risk, provided that I got something out of it for myself.”
“Of course, of course! I don’t want a favour from you for nothing. You shall have fifty pounds the moment I set foot in the boat.”
“Good! And two hundred for the skipper and his men? The men are risking their lives, you mustn’t forget that. Besides, they will have to manage confoundedly cleverly to get past the German guardships unnoticed.”
“Yes, yes! Why waste so much time over this useless bargaining? Here is the money—now get me a boat.”
“Go in there,” said Brandelaar, pointing to the door of a little dark side room. “I will see whether my friend Van dem Bosch will do it.”
Before complying with Brandelaar’s suggestion, Edith glanced at the man whom he had indicated with a movement of his head. Externally this robust old sea-dog was certainly not attractive, but his alarming appearance did not make Edith falter in her resolution for a moment.
“Good—talk to your friend, Brandelaar! And mind that I don’t have to wait too long for his consent.”