'The radio. Our radio watch, you know, is for half an hour. Jorgensen spoke to me after you had left.' I was again conscious of his eyes watching me. 'Another drink, eh?
'No thanks,' I said.
'I understand you are the representative of some English company?' The bottle gurgled as he refilled both glasses. 'Skoal,' he said. 'What company, Mr Gansert?'
'Base Metals and Industries,' I answered.
His thick, sandy-coloured eyebrows lifted. 'So! A big concern, eh? Bigger than D.N.S.'
'Yes,' I said. I wanted him to do the talking. I wanted to get the measure of the man. But he waited so that at length I said, 'Where is the man, Schreuder?'
'Locked in a cabin,' he answered.
'Can I see him?'
'Perhaps.' He rolled the thick, colourless liquid round his glass. Then he looked at me out of his sharp little eyes. He didn't say anything. The vessel's foghorn suddenly blared through the cabin, drowning the steady thrum of the engines. He waited. Again the foghorn blared.
'How much?' I asked.