Date, ever suspicious, thought it queer that the skipper should behave so politely, as he had gathered that Hervey was not usually a considerate man. Also, he saw that when the captain was climbing the bank, the boat, in charge of a mate—as the inspector judged from his brass-bound uniform—backed water to the end of the jetty, where it swung against one of the shell-encrusted piles. Hervey finally reached the jetty level, but refused to come on to the same. He beckoned to Don Pedro and his companions to walk forward to the ground upon which he was standing. Also, he seemed exceedingly anxious to take time over the transaction, as even after he had handed the scroll of writing to the Peruvian, and had received the gold in exchange, he engaged in quarrelsome conversation. Pretending that he doubted if De Gayangos had brought the exact sum, he opened the canvas bag and insisted on counting the money. Don Pedro naturally lost his temper at this insult, and swore in Spanish, upon which Hervey responded with such volubility that anyone could see he was a pastmaster in Castilian swearing. The row was considerable, especially as Random and Hope were laughing at the quarrel. They thought that Hervey was the worse for drink, but Date—clever for once in his life—did not think so. It appeared to him that the boat had gone to the end of the jetty for some reason connected with the same reason which induced the skipper to spin out the time of the meeting by indulging in an unnecessary quarrel.
The skipper also kept his eyes about him, and insisted that the four men should keep together at the head of the pier.
“I daresay you're trying to play low down on me,” he said with a scowl, after satisfying himself that the money was correct, “but I've got my shooter.”
“So have I,” cried Don Pedro indignantly, and slipped his hand round to his hip pocket, “and if you talk any further so insulting I shall—”
“Oh, you bet, two can play at that game,” cried Hervey, and ripped out his own weapon before the Spaniard could produce his Derringer. “Hands up or I shoot.”
But he had reckoned without his host. While covering De Gayangos, he overlooked the fact that Random and Hope were close at hand. The next moment, and while Don Pedro flung up his hands, the ruffian was covered by two revolvers in the hands of two very capable men.
“Great Scott!” cried Hervey, lowering his weapon. “Only my fun, gents. Here, you get back!”
This was to Inspector Date, who had been keeping his ears and eyes open, and who was now racing for the end of the jetty. Peering over, he uttered a loud cry.
“I thought so—I thought so. Here's the nigger and the mummy!”
Hervey uttered a curse, and, plunging past the trio, careless of the leveled weapons, ran down to the end of the jetty, and, throwing his arms round Date, leaped with him into the sea. They fell just beside the boat, as Random saw when he reached the spot. A confused volley of curses arose, as the boat pushed out from the encrusted pile, the mate thrusting with a boat-hook. Hervey and Date were in the water, but as the boat shot into the moonlight, Random—and now Hope and De Gayangos, who had come up—saw a long green form in amongst the sailors; also, very plainly, Cockatoo with his great mop of yellow hair.