“Never mind that,” said the skipper gravely. “Let’s take it from another way of thinking. Do you know what it means for me to set you ashore at some port?”
“Oh yes, sir: that I shall be able to communicate with any English vessel, and get taken back to Liverpool.”
“Well,” said the skipper grimly, “you are a young sailor, but I am afraid that you have very small ideas about the size of the world. I dare say, though, that would be possible, sooner or later, for you go to very few ports now-a-days without coming across a ship flying British colours. It would be all right for you; but what about me?”
Fitz looked at him wonderingly again. “What about you, sir?” he stammered. “I was not thinking about you, but about myself.”
“That wanted no telling, my lad. It’s plain enough. You were not thinking about me, but I was. Look here, my boy. Do you know what my setting you ashore means just now?”
“Yes, sir,” said the boy sharply. “Getting rid of a very troublesome passenger.”
“Oh, you think so, do you? Well, I’ll tell you what I think. It would mean getting rid of one troublesome passenger, as you call yourself, and taking a dozen worse ones on board in the shape of a prize crew. Why, young Burnett, it would mean ruin to me and to my friends, whose money has been invested in this cargo.”
“Oh no, no, sir. I am alone out here, and my captain’s vessel is far away. I couldn’t go and betray you, even if I wanted to. You could set me ashore and sail away at once. That’s all I want you to do.”
“Sweet innocency!” said the skipper mockingly. “But I won’t set it down to artfulness. I think you are too much of a gentleman for that. But do you hear him, Poole? Nice ideas he has for a beardless young officer in Her Majesty’s Navy. Why, do you mean to tell me, sir, you know nothing about international politics, and a peculiar little way that they have now-a-days of flashing a bit of news all round the world in a few minutes of time? Don’t you think that after that bit of a turn up off Liverpool way, a full description of my schooner and her probable destination has been wired across the Atlantic, and that wherever I attempted to land you, it would be for the port officials to step on board and tap me on the shoulder with a kindly request to give an account of myself?”
“I didn’t think of that,” said Fitz, slowly.