"Not at all, Captain," said the Sub hurriedly. "We want your assistance. We'll pay you well."
"Pay me well!" echoed Captain Silas scornfully. "Can show the colour of your money, belike?"
"We'll give you a hundred pounds if you'll put us ashore anywhere in England," said Broadmayne. "Possibly the Admiralty will pay you considerably more. The vessel we were on is a pirate."
"'Slong's she don't do aught to we, I'm content," replied Captain Silas. "Howsomever, a hundred pun' is worth a-pickin' up. But if she be a pirate, as you say, what happens if so be she sends aboard us to look for ye?"
"If you up-anchor and get under way at once she'll be none the wiser," suggested the Sub. "If you think she'll chase you across the Channel, there's no reason why you shouldn't run for Brest. You'll get your money just the same."
"Can't start afore the tide sets to south'ard," objected Captain Silas. "But I'll tell you what: I'll stow you away. You can lay your life on it, you'll not be found. A hundred, you said?"
The Sub reiterated his promise.
Without another word the skipper of the Fairy kicked aside a narrow strip of coco-matting, fumbled at a small circular hole in one of the floorboards, and at length raised a double-width plank about eighteen inches square.
The light of the cabin lamp revealed a cavernous space, with sloping sides and massive oaken timbers. Floor there was none, the narrow space above the kelson being packed with rusty iron bars. A cold and evil-smelling draught ascended, while with every roll of the lugger the bilge water sluiced and gurgled over the iron ballast.
"Our clothes are wringing wet," observed Vyse, stating what was an obvious fact, for they were standing in puddles, while the heat of the closed-down cabin caused the wet material to emit a regular haze of vapour.