“Is that better than going off from the wharf?”
“Yes, a dear; but excuse me: there’s the skipper yonder. I’ll go and tell him I want to be off for a few hours.”
“You do,” said the American, “and you’ll find me here when you come back.”
“If the skipper knows where I want to go,” thought the mate, “he’ll say no directly, for he hates that Yankee, so I won’t say anything about him. Not a bad sort of fellow when you come to know him; but of all the inquisitive Paul Prys I ever met he’s about the worst. Never mind: he has asked me to dinner, and I’ll go.”
The next minute the mate was face to face with Captain Banes.
“Ah, Lynton,” cried the skipper, “there you are, then. Got the gentlemen’s tackle and things on board?”
“Yes, sir, all on board.”
“That’s right. We shall drop down the river about one; so see that all’s right.”
“All is right, sir, and I want you to spare me for three or four hours.”
“Spare you to-night?”