“Muster Muir’e don’t like no soft-plucked uns, ’e don’t; and you did sing out —— loud, and no mistake. You told un you could swim, did ye? Why, Muster Muir, I seen him swim out two mile and more, and then—”
“Confound Mr. Muir,” I interrupted angrily. “Do you think I’m going to stay here all night while you stand there jawing and grinning. Be off with you and get my clothes for me or you won’t see a halfpenny of the pound I promised you.”
“It was two poun’ as you promised me,” said the fellow, lying insolently, now that he had—as he thought he had—me in his power. “And —— little too for a man wot’s running the risk of getting the billet by lettin’ strangers on boord, dead against the rools. But I don’t leave my ship for no —— two pounds, I don’t You’ll ’ave to come along wi’ me in the dinghy; an’ mind I ’as the money afore you ’as the clothes. None of your monkey tricks with me, I tell yer. Come, wot’s it to be? Are you going back wi’ me, or will you wait for Mr. Muir to come and fetch yer? I can let ’im know in the morning (this with an impudent grin) as you’ve been rescooed.”
“I don’t go ashore without my clothes if I stop here all night,” I said firmly; “it’s inhuman to ask me. What harm could I do to the confounded ship for the few minutes you’re away? I don’t want to stay here any longer than I can help, I assure you. It was a sovereign I promised you; but if you’ll row ashore as fast as you can and get my clothes, and promise to keep your mouth shut, you shall have two pounds. Will that please you?”
“Make it three,” said he, “and I’ll say done.”
“Very well,” I answered, “only be as quick as you can, for the sooner I’m out of this thieves’ den and have seen the last of your hangman face the better. And now I’ll go down out of the cold; and perhaps you won’t grudge me another dram of that rum of yours, considering how you’ve bled me to-night.”
Motioning me to follow, he led the way to the stern of the ship, where, as I knew, the hulk-keeper’s quarters were situated, the dynamite being stored, as I have already said, in the hold.
A cockpit, from which there shot up into the night an inverted pyramid of yellow light, marked the entrance to the cabin, and into this Hughes, disdainful of stairs, shuffled feet foremost, swinging a moment with his palm resting on either ledge and his body pillared by rigid arms before he dropped out of sight, like a stage Mephistopheles returning to his native hell. Not being familiar with the place, I decided to content myself with a less dramatic entrance, and picked my way accordingly down the steep stairs and into the little cabin which served as kitchen, sitting-room, and dormitory. A lighted oil-stove stood in the centre, beside which Hughes placed a wooden chair.
“You’ve got very comfortable quarters here,” I said, looking round approvingly after I had seated myself. “If one doesn’t mind a lonely life (it is lonely I suppose?), one might do worse than turn hulk-keeper.”
Hughes grunted by way of reply, but whether this was to be taken as signifying acquiescence or dissent I was unable to say, his face being at the moment hidden in a corner locker, whence he presently emerged with a bottle of Old Tom and a glass.