Mr. Wrenmarsh wrinkled his brows and quickened his pace. Those uncomfortable lines from the nostrils to the corners of his mouth deepened, and he half shut his eyes. After a little meditation he spoke again.
"Very good," he said decisively. "This is the way we'll put the thing through. You go back to Naples now. Be off the shore here by eleven o'clock, and send a boat ashore for me and my boxes. They're rather big, and fairly heavy; and they've got to be handled tenderly. I couldn't get proper means of packing the things, and I've had to take what there was. Once we get the stuff on board, we must run back so as to be in Naples by sunrise. Does that suit you?"
"You seem to be running this cruise," laughed Jerry. "I suppose it's all right; but there's one thing I must know. There's no chance of getting the yacht into a scrape, is there?"
"Oh, no danger whatever."
"You're sure?" Tab insisted. "It wouldn't be exactly pleasant to get my friend's boat confiscated, you know, or into any sort of a mess of that kind."
"Bosh!" retorted Mr. Wrenmarsh brusquely. "You may make your mind easy. The worst that could happen is that I might lose my things. But we must walk a bit faster, if you're to get your train."
"It's better to say to-morrow night," Tab remarked, as they took their way down the road and beneath the old Roman arch. "You see I might be late in getting back, and"—
"Of course, of course," interrupted the collector. "You can't count on getting here to-night. To-morrow night, of course."
At the station the capo was standing almost where Jerry had left him, looking at the hills. When the two came up, he merely turned his head and nodded.