"If the swine thinks he's going to ride the high horse with me, he's mistaken," he muttered. "I'll do him properly when I get the chance."
The night passed uneventfully. At four bells the hands were roused and breakfast served out, every one being given a liberal tot of rum. The meal over and the "traps" cleared away and the mess-deck being cleaned up (Trevorrick was "dead nuts" on routine), the men were mustered in the fore-compartment that previously served as the bow torpedo-room and air-flask chamber. To them came Trevorrick, rigged out in pea-jacket, gold braided cap, muffler, flannel trousers, and sea-boots. At his right hip was a holster, the flap of which was unfastened to display the butt of a revolver.
"Men!" he began. "Circumstances are against us; luck isn't! That swine of an Admiralty inspector has to be held responsible. He has 'blown the gaff.' Taking advantage of the confidence I placed in him, he has betrayed the secret of the Posidon's cargo to the Admiralty. I understand a dockyard lighter with a diving party is already over the position of the ingots. That being so, our original plans are a wash-out. But little difficulties of that description, annoying though they be, don't daunt me. Since Jones has caused the trouble, Jones must pay.
"I'm going to take strong measures. I haven't the faintest doubt that they will attain the desired end. To be brief, I intend to squeeze him to the extent of £20,000. Of that sum, Mr. Pengelly and myself each take £5,000. The remainder—£10,000—will be divided between the hands in proportion to the wages you were receiving while in the employ of Trevorrick, Pengelly, and Co. I have not yet worked out each man's share, but on a rough calculation it varies between £300 and £400 apiece, which is considerably in excess of the sum originally offered in connection with the proposed, but now abandoned, salvage operations. Later on, I have other attractive propositions to bring forward, but for the present I'll say no more."
It might be owing to the strong spirit, it might be the vision of sudden and easily gotten wealth. Be that as it may, the captain's speech roused the men to boisterous enthusiasm.
Trevorrick left them to discuss matters.
"I said they'd eat out of my hand, Pengelly," he remarked. "One word from me and they'd cut the throats of the first crew of foreigners we came across. Not that that is my intention," he added.
As dawn was breaking, the Alerte was brought to the surface. Masts and funnel were set up, the motors started ahead at a modest five knots, a course was shaped to the S.S.E. which would take her well clear of the Cornish coast.
When twenty miles out in the Channel, Trevorrick swept the horizon with his binoculars. Save for a large oil tanker well away beyond the Lizard, there was nothing in sight—which was precisely what Trevorrick had wanted.
"Clear lower deck!" was the order.