"Captain aboard?" demanded the burly officer in charge.
"No," answered the hand suspiciously. "What will you have?"
"I want to see the officer in charge, my spruce little sea-cook," returned the big man genially; and the grating of the steps being handy, without further ceremony he came aboard.
The sailor keeping the deck, although of a slow and plodding disposition, might have resented the coolness of the stranger, had Jerry given him time; but with a commendable promptness and a sinking heart the mate advanced. He told Jack afterward that he felt as if he were leading a forlorn hope, and had not the remotest idea of what he had better do or say.
"I am in charge here," he said in a perfectly neutral voice. "What do you want?"
"You are Captain Castleport?" inquired the big man, giving Jerry a keen glance not without a suspicion of kindly humor.
He was a fine, strapping creature of perhaps forty-five or fifty, with fair hair, and a large bushy beard tawny as a lion's mane.
"Captain Castleport is ashore, sir. I am the mate."
"Mr. Taberman, eh?" asked the other. "May I see you in private for a minute or two, sir? I'm Lloyd's deputy inspector for Plymouth. I've been hunting about in the fog for you these thirty minutes past. I thought you were nigh out o' the Cattewater, over toward the Hoe."
"Will you come below?" said Jerry grimly.