But Tresco pointed his boat’s nose straight for the long beach which fringed the end of the bay.
The rowers had seen the mail-bags put aboard the boat, and they now wondered why they did not go straight to the steamer.
“Hi! boss. The mail-steamer lies to starboard: that’s her lights behind the barque’s.”
“Right, my man,” replied Tresco; “but I have a little business ashore here, before we pull out to her.”
The boat was now nearing the beach. As soon as her keel touched the sand, Tresco jumped into the water and, ordering the fishermen to do the same, the boat was quickly pulled high and dry.
“Take out the bags,” commanded the pseudo-skipper.
The men demurred.
“Why you do this? Santa Maria! is alla these mail go back to town?”
“There’s the steamer—out there!” exclaimed Rock Cod. “A man’d think——”
But he was cut short.