“That’s just the very name for him,” said the sailor. “I have often heard that, in the merchant-houses, ‘Co.’ sometimes stands for more than one man; and I know that this fellow is fully equal to two. Indeed, I think that he’ll prove himself too much for all of us to-night. He runs like a clipper before the wind.”
The door again opened, and two seamen entered, both dressed in costumes similar to that of the last-comer before them. One was evidently a common sailor; the other was a stout, compactly-built man, about five feet six or seven inches in height, of a swarthy complexion, with dark and lowering eyes, and a generally stern and forbidding expression of countenance. His dark hair, somewhat mingled with grey, was, contrary to the usual sailor fashion, cut closely to his head; but he wore all of his grizzled, straight, and uncurling beard long. He seemed to be about forty years of age.
This man interlarded his talk with many oaths of the rudest character. I prefer to omit them in reporting his conversation.
“Well, Mr Afton,” said Captain Vance, in a pleasant tone, addressing this individual, “where is your prisoner?”
“Prisoner?” was the rough answer, “I once was told of a man who was such a fool as to undertake to run a race with the moon; but he had a sight more chance of winning his race than we had of winning ours. We overtook, in the pursuit, two stupid negroes carrying a load of fish. I thought that they had probably seen him, and could, therefore, give us some information with regard to our chase; but though I cut some tough hickory rods, and they were both well thrashed, we could get nothing out of them.”
“That was useless, to say the least of it,” said the captain, with some sternness. “Of course, if they had seen him, they would have told you without having been cruelly beaten.”
Mr Afton indulged himself in a few more oaths, and a heavy frown came upon his face. The captain seemed to take but little notice, however; and there was silence for a few moments. This silence was broken by Mr Afton.
“If I knew who that spying fellow is, and where he lives, captain,” he said, with more respect in his tones and manner, “I would, with your consent, take a few of the men, storm the house, capture him, and bring him aboard.”
“I know the man,” replied Captain Vance, “and also where he is to be found. But there is no need of resorting to the violent means which you recommend—which, by-the-bye, would destroy our trade here, by making it unsafe for us to visit this harbour or its neighbourhood any more. I think that I have a better plan. I know well the character of the man who was watching us, and since you started in pursuit of him, have thought of a plan by which I shall have him peaceably on board of the brig early to-morrow morning, before he shall have an opportunity of communicating with any one. Trust the matter to me; I feel not the least doubt of my success. I will speak to you further on the subject presently.”
From the time that Afton, Billy, and the other sailor had gone in pursuit of young Coe, the process of removing the bales and boxes of goods to the cellar had been unremittingly continued. Soon after Billy Bowsprit’s return, Mr Ashleigh had gone down into the cellar again, to resume the superintendence of the storage of the merchandise. Shortly after the close of the conversation recorded above, between the captain and the first-mate, the merchant reascended to the store-room, and announced that the goods were all safely put away. He was followed by the sailors who had been engaged in carrying down the packages.