They then bade each other good-night and Victor went to his room.
Jack was greatly excited by the course of events and sat down by the window. It was a bright, moonlight night. He felt that he must do something to quiet his mental agitation. He put on his hat and walked out of the hotel, scarcely noticing what course he was taking. He walked on until he found himself upon the quay. The great hull of the Osprey loomed up before him, the bright rays of the moon lighting up the vessel as if it were noonday.
He glanced downward and saw his full-length shadow projected upon the rough planks of the quay. The thought came to him that he did not wish to stand out in such bold relief, and he quickly sought a part of the quay where the shadows were almost impenetrable.
Hardly had he done so, when he heard the plashing of oars. In a moment, he saw a boat containing two men approaching the quay. When they reached the wharf, they stood for several minutes without speaking, but looking intently at the British frigate. Jack was not more than ten feet from them and, when they did speak, every word uttered was overheard by him.
“Just like those Englishman,” one of them said. “If they know anything, they won’t tell you, and if they don’t, they can’t tell you, so you learn nothing either way. I did my best to find out from that sentry whether Lieutenant Duquesne was on board, but not a word could I get out of him; only to come to-morrow, between eleven and twelve. But we can’t go to-morrow, for Cromillian told me that he had some important work on hand which would take us away to the south for a week.”
“I don’t see that we can do any more,” said the other man, “except to tell him that we can’t find out anything. He is a just man, is Cromillian, and he won’t blame us if we have done all that we can do.”
“I would go up to the hotel,” said the first speaker, “and see if this Lieutenant is there, but the landlord knows me, and so do all the servants, and, if I ask for the Lieutenant, they would immediately surmise that he was connected in some way with Cromillian, and the Captain, you know, cautioned us both to do nothing that would show that he knew the Lieutenant or anything about him.”
Jack waited to hear no more. The Fates had been kind. Here was his opportunity. Without stopping to think how reckless his conduct was, he stepped forward from his dark retreat and placed a hand on each of the speakers. Quick as lightning, they stepped back and pulling out their stilettos, stood facing him. Then Jack realised his narrow escape, for a Corsican usually strikes first and asks for explanations afterwards.
“Put up your weapons,” he said, in the mildest tone he could assume, although his voice was agitated. “I overheard what you said, but I am a friend.”
“You will have to prove that before we believe it,” said one of the men, and they still held their stilettos in position for ready use.