By eight o’clock in the morning Mr Parkley and Dutch came off to announce that they had discovered through ’Pollo that when he saw Tolly and the other diver they were on their way to the station, and had taken tickets for London.
“Did you ever have worse news?” said Mr Parkley, bitterly. “It may be months before we can get others who will go, for Layman, my other man, is ill.”
“Yes,” said the captain, quietly.
“What do you mean?” exclaimed Mr Parkley, aghast.
“Our friend the Cuban has seduced all the men away, and stopped the expedition.”
“I’ll be—No, I won’t swear,” exclaimed Mr
Parkley, turning red with fury. “Stopped the voyage, has he! Got my divers away, and the crew, has he! Look here, Dutch Pugh; look here, Captain Studwick. I’m a man who takes a good deal of moving, but when I do move it takes more to stop me. I’ll move heaven and earth to carry this plan out, and I’ll spend every sixpence I’ve got, but what I’ll beat that scoundrel.”
“You will apply to the magistrates about the men?” said the captain; “at least, shall I?”
“No,” said Mr Parkley, sharply. “Might just as well commence proceedings against that scoundrel. Waste of time. Dutch Pugh, you’ll stand by me?”
“Indeed I will, Mr Parkley,” said Dutch, calmly, as he held out his hand.