'What about the boat fare, Mulligan?' I asked. 'How much have you taken?'
'Lie still,' he hissed, and he held out the butt of his pistol ready.
The great granite cliffs were very near now. They seemed reared up, high, high into the night. A line of white seethed at their foot.
I slipped my hand under my jersey, beneath my vest, till I felt the leather of the belt lying against my skin. I found the pocket. It bulged. But when I got my fingers inside it the crispness of the notes had changed to paper, as though the pouch were stuffed with worthless Italian lire. I looked at Mulligan. 'How much did you take?' I asked him.
His face was so close to mine I could see the hare-lip stretch as he grinned. 'What Ah said Ah'd take, plus fifteen quid for the inconvenience ye caused me. Ye've got five quid, me bonnie boy, and that's five quid more'n ye deserve.'
'Five quid!' And I'd had two hundred when I hailed him at Port Santa Lucia in Naples Bay. 'Why didn't you take the five quid as well?' I asked.
He laughed. It was a hard, grating sound; like the creak of the oars in the rowlocks. 'Because Ah'm no wanting inquiries made about the Arisaig. Five pounds'll last ye quite a bit. The will to stay free is awfu' strong in a man. Ah could've filled ye full of lead and thrown ye overboard wi' some old iron in yer boots. But I dinna trust me crew when it comes to murdering a man. Though it's what ye deserve.'
'How do you know what I deserve?' The anger boiled up in me, stronger than the pain in my head. 'What were you doing sailing in and out of the North African ports when Rommel held the coast? I'll bet you weren't talking your phoney Scots then.'
He laughed again. 'Mais non, mon vieux — jeparlais toujours le francais quand j'etais en Afrique.' 'Or German,' I added. Who was he to tell me what I deserved, this rotten, crooked little bastard of a Scots father and a French mother.
A wave broke and the white of its crest licked along the gunnel, wetting my sleeve and slopping water into my face. We were very near the beach now. I could see it — a faint smudge of steeply rising sand that ended in a granite wall. Damn them! Why should I let them get away with my money like that?