As Captain Conyngham was slipping on his still wet greatcoat, he leaned forward and spoke softly to the others, who had risen, but were standing by their chairs:
“Our fine gentlemen yonder have put two and two together,” he said, “as why shouldn’t they? And the man with the fat jowls, whom you call ‘Lester,’ has just made a remark that it is a good thing to remember, for he has just said that he would keep an eye on the Charming Peggy, and mark the time of her sailing. By the same token there are two English men-o’-war just off the capes of the Delaware. I sailed by them in the fog.”
“Forewarned is forearmed, Captain Conyngham,” returned Mr. Nesbit, “and we’ll keep an eye on Mr. Lester.”
“If he comes down by my ship let’s pray he’s a good swimmer,” responded the captain, jamming his heavy hat down over his black hair and drawing his queue from under his coat collar. With that he pulled his sea boots well up his legs and went out into the storm.
For a minute Mr. David Conyngham and the senior partner remained silent, and then the latter spoke.
“An odd character,” he said suggestively, “this kinsman of yours. Might I say without any offense, that he has a certain amount of assurance.”
“Call it self-reliance better,” responded David, “it was always so with him as a boy. But mark you this, sir, behind it all he has the courage that is daunted at nothing, and ask any seaman with whom he has sailed if he knows of a better or more resourceful man in emergencies.”
“He comes of good stock,” rejoined Mr. Nesbit, “eh, David?”
The younger man caught the elder’s twinkling eye and bowed.
“We’ve all been kings in Ireland,” he returned, “and to quote Gustavus, ‘surely one king is as good as another.’ But the news that you had for me has not been told. What is it?”