“I shall hasten to the village,” said Wesley. But he suddenly checked himself. He knew that Ben-net's cunning would be equal to such a device as to get rid of the revenue officer for the few minutes necessary to crush the life out of the man on the sand. “No, on second thought yonder man—his name is Bennet—will do this duty. John Bennet, you will hasten to the nearest house—any house save Polwhele's—and return with at least two of the fishermen. They will come hither with two oars and a small sail—enough sailcloth to make into a hammock for the bearing of the man with ease. You will do my bidding.”
“I will do your bidding,” said Bennet after a pause, and forthwith he hurried away.
“What is all this, sir?” asked the man in a low tone when he had gone. “I heard your voice and his—he is half a madman—they had the sound of a quarrel.”
“You arrived in good time, friend,” said Wesley. “You say this man was treated with skill in his emergency; if so, it must be placed to the credit of John Bennet. I can say so much, but no more.”
“I'll ask no more from you, sir,” said the other, slowly and suspiciously. “But if I heard of Ben-net's murdering a man I would believe it sooner than any tale of his succouring one. He is a bit loose in the hatches, as the saying is; I doubt if he will bear your message, sir.”
“I shall make this sure by going myself,” said
Wesley. “I am of no help here; you have dealt with the half drowned before now.”
“A score of times—and another score to the back of the first,” said the man. “I tell you this one is well on the mend. But a warm blanket will be more to him than an anker of Jamaica rum. You do well to follow Bennet. Would the loan of a pistol be of any confidence to you in the job?”
“There will be no heed for such now, even if I knew how to use one,” said Wesley.
He perceived that the man had his suspicions. He hurried away when he had reached the track above the shingle.