“Of course,” said Olivia, rather nettled.
“I hope, Stukeley,” said Perrin, “I hope you won’t quarrel with him. We’re going a long voyage together.”
“Lord,” said Stukeley. “What a stew you two make. You might be two old women.”
“Tom dear,” said Olivia, “is that open window too much for you?”
In the diversion caused by the shutting of the window, Captain Cammock took his seat, laying a book of charts on the table before him. “Now, Captain Margaret, sir. Will you begin? I don’t rightly know what it is you want discussed.”
“Very well,” said Margaret. “I’ll begin.”
He leaned back in his chair, and looked first at Olivia, then at Stukeley, then at Cammock, who, he thought, looked very splendid, with his long black hair falling over his shoulders, and his grim beauty, like a bronze, thrusting from his scarlet scarf.
“I don’t think you know,” he said, “at any rate, not perfectly, what it is I intend doing. This ship is mine, as I think you all know. But her cargo—it’s a general cargo, worth a good deal of money where we are going to—is the property of several London merchants, who expect me to make a profit for them. I want you to get it out of your heads that I’m doing this for love, either of adventure, or of my fellow-men. I believe I shall get adventure, and help my fellow-men. But the venture is, primarily, a business venture. If the business part fails, the whole thing will come to nothing. As you know, a part of the cargo is consigned to Virginia, and we go to Virginia direct. But we shall only stay there long enough to buy up the pick of the tobacco crop with our goods, and take in fresh water. Our real destination is the Isthmus of Darien.”
“What part of the Isthmus, sir?” said Cammock.
“You’ll have to tell us that. Fill Captain Cammock’s glass, Perrin.”