“Stop,” he cried.
“What’s the matter?” growled Jennen.
“I want you to take me across to—”
He whispered the rest.
“Storm coming. There’ll be a gashly sea on directly, master. Pay out more o’ that line, will you?” he bellowed. “Don’t you see she’s foul o’ the anchor?”
“Ten pounds if you’ll put off directly, and take me,” said Tregenna, glancing uneasily back.
“Wouldn’t go for twenty,” growled Jennen.
“Thirty, then, if you’ll put off at once.”
“Hear this, mates?” growled Jennen.
“No—er.”