The captain stared. “You don’t seem to understand, sir,” he said. “This isn’t a new ship, and she’s stove in three compartments, at least. She’d go down like a broken salmon-can if she put into deep water. Of course, we should get off right enough in the boats; but, seeing that you were on board, I fancy the insurance people’d think there was something hanky-panky about it and refuse to pay. And, any way, if we tried anything half so mad I should lose my ticket for good.”
“Man,” said Shelf, putting ten shaking fingers on the captain’s arm, “we must go on at any risk, if it’s only to Spain—if it’s only to France.”
The captain looked at him queerly. “What’s this mean?” he asked.
“I dare not go back.”
“And why not, please?”
“I’ve been unfortunate in business, captain, and it is absolutely essential that I should remain abroad a month or so till matters are settled up again.”
“Ho!” said Captain Colson, “I’m beginning to see. And which business, please, have you been unfortunate in?”
“What does it matter? Several. Captain, you are wasting time.”
“There is no immediate hurry, sir,” said the captain, stolidly. “May I ask if the ‘Brothers S. S. Association’ is down on its luck amongst the other concerns?”
“I’m—er—I’m afraid it isn’t very prosperous,” said Shelf.