Mr Parkley was reckoning without his host, for at that moment the two divers, each with twenty pounds in his pocket above the advance pay he had drawn, were on their way to London, and the man who had given the money was now forward in the darkest part of the deck, crouching beneath the high bulwarks of the large three-masted schooner, whispering with one of the men.
Their discussion seemed to take a long time, but it ended in the other man of the watch joining them, and the conversation still went on.
It was interrupted by the coming on deck of Captain Studwick, and silence ensued, while the captain took a turn round the deck, and gave an eye to the riding lights, for, as evening had come on, the vessel had been warped out of dock, and lay a couple of hundred yards out in the great estuary, fast to one of the buoys.
“We might have some of the lads taking a fancy to go on shore,” he had said to Mr Parkley, when he complained of having to take a boat to come off; “and we shall be all the more ready to drop down with the tide. I don’t want to find my crew like yours to-morrow morning—missing.”
Finding all apparently quite right, and the lanterns burning, brightly, Captain Studwick took another turn round the deck, peeped down into the forecastle, where the men were talking and smoking, then went right forward and looked over at the hawser fast to the buoy, said a word or two of warning to the men, and went below.
It was now ten o’clock, and excessively dark—so dark that it was impossible to see across the deck, and the lights hoisted up in the rigging seemed like great stars. The buzz of conversation in the forecastle had grown much more subdued, and then suddenly ceased, though a dull buzzing murmur could be heard from the deckhouse, where the dim light of a smoky lantern, hung from the roof, shone upon the bright cooking apparatus with which the place was furnished, and upon the glistening teeth of ’Pollo, the black cook, and Oakum, the old sailor, both smoking, and in earnest converse.
“Yes, ’Pollo,” said Oakum, “it seemed to bring up old times, and some of our vyges, so I thought I’d come and have a palaver before we turned in.”
“I glad to see you, Mass’ Sam Oakum, sah, and I hope you often gin me de pleasure ob your company during de voyage. I ’spect you, Mass’ Oakum, and you always ’spect colour genlum, sah, dough we use quarrel some time.”
“Only chaff, ’Pollo.”
“Course it was, sah, only chaff, and nuffum at all. And now I tink ob it, sah, I hav ’plendid ’rangement here, and supply for de cooking; and when, by an’ by, you find de beef too salt, and de biscuit too hard, juss you drop in here, sah, after dark, and ’Pollo most likely find lilly bit ob somefin nice leff from de cabin dinner.”