“Laid on!” ejaculated Herbert, who knew as much about sailor’s phrases as he did of Hebrew.
Jack laughed. “The agents in Calcutta chartered the ship for London, freights for that port being higher than for Liverpool. The Rose of Delhi is a free ship.”
“Oh,” responded Herbert. “I thought perhaps she had changed owners.”
“No. But our broker in London is brother to the owners in Liverpool. There are three of them in all. James Freeman is the broker; Charles and Richard are the owners. Rich men they must be!”
“When do you think you shall sail again?”
“It depends upon when they can begin to reload and get the fresh cargo in.”
“That does not take long, I suppose,” remarked Herbert, slightingly.
“She may be loaded in three days if the cargo is ready and waiting. It may be three weeks if the cargo’s not—or more than that.”
“And Alice does not go with you?”
Jack shook his head: something like a cloud passed over his fresh, frank face. “No, not this time.”