“No; ’twill need a bigger boat—one that will carry three or four people. Do you know where you can borrow such, or hire it?”
“I think I do. I’ve a friend, the name o’ Rob Trotter, who’s got just sich a boat. He’d lend it me, sure.”
“Charter it, if he doesn’t. Never mind about the price. I’ll pay.”
“When might you want it, your Reverence?”
“On Thursday night, at ten, or a little later—say half-past.”
“And where am I to bring it?”
“To the Ferry; you’ll have it against the bank by the back of the Chapel burying-ground, and keep it there till I come to you. Don’t leave it to go up to the ‘Harp,’ or anywhere else; and don’t let any one see either the boat or yourself, if you can possibly avoid it. As the nights are now dark at that hour, there need be no difficulty in your rowing up the river without being observed. Above all, you’re to make no one the wiser of what you’re to do, or anything I’m now saying to you. The service I want you for is one of a secret kind, and not to be prattled about.”
“May I have a hint o’ what it is?”
“Not now; you shall know in good time—when you meet me with the boat. There will be another along with me—may be two—to assist in the affair. What will be required of you is a little dexterity, such as you displayed on Saturday night.”
No need the emphasis on the last words to impress their meaning upon the murderer. Too well he comprehends, starting in his chair as if a hornet had stung him.