"Mr. Drake isn't aboard now," said Jack.
"Well, ye c'n give me my quarter jes' the same," the boy rejoined. "I'll let ye hev the letters, 'n' he'll make it right with ye later. He lef' word this evenin' for his mail to be brung him every time it come, an' 't was that foggy the Sylvy got in late from Rocklan', 'n' I couldn't get roun' to bring it out before. 'Twan't sorted till after Mr. Staples hed his supper."
"All right," Jack said hastily. "Come alongside."
He feared to create suspicion, and felt that the only thing to do at the moment was to get rid of the boy. He gave the youth a quarter, and took the letters in exchange, mentally saying to himself that he hoped they were not of importance. The boy went pulling away as if in most unusual elation, and Castleport, thrusting the letters into the breast pocket of his coat, returned to his work. He had not quite finished untying the points when he heard Jerry's hail from the mooring.
"Merle, ahoy! Ho-ro aboard the Merle!" came booming through the fog in Taberman's most stentorian tones.
Jack placed himself in the companion-way as if just emerging from the cabin, and waited for another hail.
"Merle ahoy! Aho-o-o-y aboard the Merle!" again rang through the thick night above the sound of the wind, the water, and the cordage.
"Hallo-o-o!" bawled back Castleport.
"Send ... boat ... ashore!" came the voice.