By this time the yellow-faced man had passed, and the captain gave each of his companions a solemn wink.
“Let him turn that over,” he said. “I like to put chaps like that on a false scent. He’s a Poll Pry, that’s what that chap is. P’raps he’ll be wanting to sell you a plantation. But now then, sir, business. Directly I tell my mates and crew where we’re going—if so be as we agree—the first question will be: What are we going for?”
“I don’t know myself, captain,” said Sir Humphrey.
“You don’t know yourself, sir?”
“Not thoroughly. But I will be as open with you as I can. I am an Englishman of some means, and it is my wish to travel with my brother here, collecting.”
“Oh!” said the captain.
“At the present time comparatively nothing is known of the central parts of South America.”
“Wrong,” said the captain. “I can tell you something: it’s all big rivers running into one another like a net o’ waters.”
“Exactly, and that should make travelling in ship and boat easy,” replied Sir Humphrey.
“But what’s to be got by it, sir?”