"Well, I didn't see the works. But the upper part's just brown hide, stuffed, I suppose."
"Nonsense, man; it's the ship I mean."
"Oh yes—well, she's smart enough to look at, with lashings of paint and gilding and brass fittings everywhere—the Spanish owner's no fool, I'll be bound. Bottoming, indeed; I don't believe a word of it."
"What do you mean?"
"Mean! why,"—Bramsen lowered his voice—"it's just a fake, if you ask me, to make folk think they've got an easy bargain."
"Anyone else been on board looking round?"
"Yes. Skipper Heil was there all day yesterday."
"Heil? Wasn't he skipper of Hermansen's Valkyrie?"
"That's it! And I'm pretty sure 'twas Hermansen sent him down to look."
"Bramsen, listen to me. Not a word to a soul of what you know about the ship; you've got to be dumb as a doorpost. If anyone asks, you can tell them in confidence that I sent you to look over her, and not a word more, you understand?"