“The time will come when we can talk loudly anywhere,” he said. “You may call me a ‘hothead,’ but after what has been happening up Boston way there is no drawing back. When shall we see Captain Conyngham?” he asked, “for the longer we put the matter off the greater the risk will be.”
“This very afternoon. He informed me there were some pressing matters to be attended to, and that he would repair to your office. I have given him but few particulars, but he is eager for the undertaking. He knows of the vessel, too, and pronounces her fit for it.”
As he spoke the younger man turned and looked out of the window, against which the wind was driving the large drops of rain.
“Egad, sir!” he exclaimed. “As I am living, who comes around the corner but the very man himself! I will stop him at the door and fetch him in.”
As he spoke Mr. Conyngham hurriedly rose and, opening the door, gave a seaman’s hail, followed by a wave of the hand.
The inrush of fresh air caused all the men seated about the room to turn suddenly, and they were just in time to see the entrance of a short but well-knit figure dressed in a sailor’s greatcoat, from under which appeared a pair of heavy sea boots. He threw a shower of water from his sleeves and his hat as he grasped his cousin’s hand.
“Homeward bound!” he cried. “But any port out of the storm.”
“Well, then, come in and cast anchor beside the table here. Off with your wet things and be comfortable. You know our friend, Mr. Nesbit.”
“I knew your father and all your family,” spoke the elder man who had been addressed, rather ponderously.
“By the powers, you know half the County of Donegal, then, and more than I do,” laughed the sailor, with a touch of a rich rolling brogue. “But years ago,” he added, “I met you, sir, when I was with Captain Henderson, who was in the Antigua trade. I was but a slip of a lad then, and no doubt you have forgotten me.”