"I cannot let you go there," said Hector; "it is impossible."
"Just you sit still. You're a'goin' there whether you like it or not," said Brack doggedly.
"I will not place my brother in a false position."
"What'd you do if he were in your place and came to the yacht as you're doin'?"
Hector made no answer; he knew he would take the risk.
"There y'ar," said Brack triumphantly; "I knew it. You'd take him aboard and gie him a hearty welcome."
"Put back; I won't go," said Hector.
"Put back, eh, and land yer right in his arms. Not me, not for Brack, oh dear, no; you just sit still, will yer?"
Brack had a peculiar habit of saying "you" and "yer," and sundry other words, changing them as the mood took him.
"Now I'd not be at all surprised if he'd hired a boat and was on his way to the London Belle, just to scent out things; he's a human bloodhound, d——n him, that's what he is."