"I'm going to give 'em something for supper," said Pernambouc with a hideous laugh.
"I'll come with you," said the warder in a sprightly tone.
As he went along Pernambouc became aware that the "Haversack's" launch was no longer moored to the jetty. A grim laugh shook him from head to foot.
Nevertheless he was not a bad sort of man. He had, as we have said, a generous disposition, and when he was at the canteen he had no liking for "drinking alone without standing treat;" but at the thought of the face that the Nut would pull when, once in the water, he discovered that the launch was on a trip and sharks were waiting for him, he could not help roaring with laughter.
"Well, old man, are you satisfied with your little business?" asked the warder.
"Yes," returned Pernambouc. "Things are not so bad. I've earned my pay to-day. I'm very well pleased with myself."
When he came to the end of the jetty he laid his sack on the ground.
"Where did you see the sharks?"
The warder's presence somewhat inconvenienced him, but when the man stooped over the water trying to catch a glimpse of the monsters in the trough of the sea, Pernambouc made the most of the opportunity to throw his sack down.
When the warder turned round at the sound which the sack made as it struck the liquid element he could see only a dark mass which was lost to view in the swirling foam. Almost immediately the waves were swollen by another eddy a few feet away, and the leaping shadow of a huge dog-fish glided over the luminous and phosphorescent sea and disappeared in the direction of the Nut. Above the spot where he had fallen the waters swished and seethed and then grew still.