“Can I see him for a moment?”
“For a moment you can; but he will be wanted very soon.”
The boatswain returned to the deck, and, calling Speers, sent him to the gangway. As the student had no friends in Gibraltar, he wondered who could wish to see him. He hastened to the steps, and went down to the platform at the foot of them. Marline remained at the rail, to see that nothing improper passed between Speers and the man; but he was called away before the student had communicated with the boat.
“Telegraph despatch from San Roque,” said the messenger, handing the document to Speers.
“It can’t be for me,” protested the student, surprised that such a message should come to him. “I don’t know any one in San Roque.”
“It is directed to Thomas Speers, and there is the name of this vessel on it,” persisted the messenger, pointing to the address. “But it is not from San Roque the message comes: that is the nearest telegraph station.”
“Where did it come from?” asked Speers, turning the message over and over in his hand.
“I don’t know: you can tell by opening it.”
“I don’t want to open it, if it is not for me.”
“If your name is Thomas Speers, it is for you. I have done my errand, and I have nothing more to say about it,” added the man, as he shoved his boat off from the platform.