“Impossible. Even if I could leave again, it couldn’t be done in such weather.”
“It must be done. The weather is not so bad, and I know you are not the man to be afraid of a storm.”
“Afraid—no! Very likely I have weathered a worse storm than this with my smack. But there is a difference between the danger a man has to go through when he cannot escape it, and that to which he foolishly exposes himself. When I am on a journey, then come what pleases God, but—”
“No more, Brandelaar,” interrupted Edith impatiently. “If you cannot, or will not go yourself, surely one of your acquaintances here is brave and smart enough to earn a couple of hundred pounds without any difficulty.”
The skipper’s little eyes twinkled.
“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.”