"You will warn me, and it will most like be Sunday?"
"It will most like be Sunday. The hour you shall know. As well as how to distinguish your prize. And then you will away to Charleston. Be ready to sail at once with the cattle who are for the French colonies."
"Fear me not. I will be ready. Ere Monday morning comes we shall be out of the river."
They shook hands on this, the skipper filling the glasses once more, and so they parted, Granger dropping into the boat and being rowed ashore after having again promised to warn his confederate of the certain hour and day when his new victim might be expected.
"And," he repeated in a whisper, so that none of the crew who stood near should hear, "remember, this is a prize. You pay nothing for it; and if, when you return, you can give me good news for the family, you will have--well, I dare to say--fifty--a hundred guineas. Is't enough?"
"It is enough, I shall not fail."
In less than an hour Granger was once more back in his office attending to his master's business, checking accounts brought in to him by dealers and ships' furnishers; paying money and receiving it. But, ever and again, his eyes glanced at the clock which hung above the fireplace, while he muttered to himself, "He should be awake by now."
Bufton had been accommodated with a bed that night by his "friend," there being a spare room in the house, and now, since it was eleven o'clock, the latter went up to arouse him. He found him, however, leaving the apartment at that moment, and, after some banter as to the late hours he kept, Granger escorted him to the parlour, where he took his own meals and sat when not occupied in his office.
"Well!" he said, when some breakfast had been put before his guest, "Well! I have been about your business to-day--your great revenge; and--and all is arranged. Only I have one fear--that you will repent; that your heart will turn to kindness."
"Will it, think you?" said Bufton, with a cruel sneer. "Will it! Never fear. Yet tell me, what is it that is to be done?"