“The sea was very smooth,” said Dick. “I went to engage a contractor who had been at work upon the mole.”
So far, conversation had been easy, and he had satisfactorily accounted for his passing the wharf, without, he hoped, appearing anxious to do so; but he had learned nothing yet, although he thought the Spaniard was more interested in his doings than he looked.
“The collier was leaving as we went by,” he resumed. “Trade must be good, because she seemed to have unloaded a large quantity of coal.”
“Sixteen hundred tons,” said the manager. “In war time, when freights advance, it is wise to keep a good stock.”
As this was very nearly the quantity Dick had guessed, he noted the man’s frankness, but somehow imagined it was meant to hide something.
“So long as you can sell the stock,” he agreed. “War, however, interferes with trade, and the French line have reduced their sailings, while I expect the small British tramps won’t be so numerous.”
“They have nothing to fear in these waters.”
“I suppose they haven’t, and vessels belonging to neutral countries ought to be safe,” said Dick. “Still, the Spanish company seem to have changed their sailings, because I thought I saw one of their boats yesterday; but she was a long way off on the horizon.”
He thought the other gave him a keen glance, but as the shutters were partly closed the light was not good, and the man answered carelessly:
“They do not deal with us. Adexe is off their course and no boats so large can come up to the wharf.”