"The second mate," I said.
He nodded his head, called a seaman to carry my luggage below and point the way, and walked off.
Master Juggins drew me back to the rail.
"'Tis best I should not wait," he said. "Stay below till you be safe out of Thames mouth, Master Harry. You should be safe enough now, but care is a sure precaution."
"I will not forget," I promised.
"And one thing more, lad. Do not stint your wants for money. Governor Burnet will aid you to draw whatever you may desire through the bankers in New York. Remember, you spend on my behalf. I would willingly use all I have to thwart Murray. You will require trade-goods for the savages, and perhaps equipment for yourself. Purchase the best. Spend—and spare not."
"You are too kind," I mumbled.
"Say rather your father was too kind. 'Tis little enough I have been able to do for you—sending you away, an exile, on a mission of danger. Yet I would have you look upon it as a privilege, if you will, Master Harry. When all is said and done, we are at war with France. 'Tis no war of generals and armies and admirals and fleets, I grant you. But war it is.
"True, there is the Peace of Utrecht, with all its ponderous provisions sullying so many square inches of white parchment. It proclaims peace. And nevertheless I say to you that we are at war."
He smote the rail with his hand by way of emphasis.