The white-faced listener on the other side of the door--white-faced not from fear, but from passion--muttered nothing now. Instead, he nodded his head reflectively, as though conning weighty matters; but still he never took his ear from the door.
"That might pass," the mate said, "that might pass. Only how to get him?"
"This way. Listen. The women come first----"
"Do they? thought Granger.
"Then, when they are secured and sent to the boat (the sailors who go with them saying that a man is also being brought from the spot two or three hundred yards away), I will start to follow, bidding him come after me when he has discharged the carriage. Therefore, your men will know whom to take. It will be the second man."
"The second man," repeated the mate.
And Granger also repeated (but to himself), "The second man."
"Ay, the second man. Both being masked."
"We can attempt it," the sailor said now. "But though we shall doubtless get him on board and down below, I would be sworn the master will discover all when we are at sea. He will inspect his live-stock, and then----"
"Then," said Bufton, "there will be the accident which will follow--the casting of himself into the sea in despair. Will there not, my friend?"