"You're a long time coming to the point," said Barraclough with exemplary curtness. "We have no time to waste."
"Well, gentlemen, I'm willing to make a deal—that's the short of it—a deal that will suit both parties. That's the pith of the situation."
He gazed from one to another of us unembarrassed, and even with an expression of amiable cheerfulness. "And my proposal's this——"
"Unconditional surrender," broke in the Prince's harsh voice.
"That so?" says Holgate without concern, directing a glance at the speaker. "I guess, Mr. Morland, you're in this for more than your health. So am I. But I should like to know before starting whom I've got to deal with, just by way of encouragement, so to say." He paused. "I don't want to pry into any secrets, but it would suit me better if I knew whom to address. Owing to the unfortunate decease of the late Captain Day——"
"You infernal ruffian; you murderer!" broke fiercely out of Lane's throat. "You'll hang yet, by heaven, or I'll eat my hat."
Holgate turned his heavy face and still sombre eyes upon the purser, but said nothing nor otherwise remarked his outburst. It was Barraclough who spoke:
"Excuse me, Mr. Lane, this is my affair, not yours," he said abruptly. "Go on, sir," to Holgate.
"I can wait, of course," said the mutineer with cool irony. "There isn't much hurry about the matter now the ship lays her course. But I should prefer a business deal with business people, and I take it that that means with you, Sir John."
Barraclough nodded. "You may address me," he said. "And you will get your answer from me."