“No; he’s down below.”
“I want to see him. May I come aboard?”
“If you like,” said Hilary; and the man climbed over the side.
He was a lithe, sunburnt fellow, and after looking at him for a few moments with a vague kind of feeling that he had seen him before, Hilary sent a message below, and Mr Lipscombe came up with his hand before his mouth to hide a yawn.
“Are you the captain?” said the man.
“I command this ship, fellow. What is it?”
“What’ll you give me, captain, if I take you to a cove where they’re going to run a cargo to-night?”
“Wait and see, my man. You take us there and you shall be rewarded.”
“No, no,” said the man laughing; “that won’t do, captain. I’m not going to risk my life for a chance of what you’ll give. I want a hundred pounds.”
“Rubbish, man! Ten shillings,” said Lipscombe sharply.