Then another boat ran alongside, and others, until the Titania looked like a swan surrounded by her cygnets. There were bumboatmen, ship's store-dealers, washermen, butchers, purveyors of insipid rain-water—Spaniards, Genoese, Moors, and representatives of every country bordering on the Mediterranean—all clamouring to do business with the newly-arrived vessel.
"Allow no one to come on board," ordered Harborough.
"No exception?" inquired a hearty voice, and to the surprise of everyone on deck Jack Villiers appeared from behind a pile of fruit-cases in the stern-sheets of a whaler.
For once, at least, Harborough went back on his word. He almost went back and down an open hatchway, for, although he was convinced that Villiers would put in an appearance, that worthy's sudden return took the usually cool and collected Sir Hugh by surprise.
"Good heavens, Villiers, dear old thing!" he exclaimed. "How in the name of all that's wonderful——!"
Running up the accommodation-ladder and saluting the quarter-deck as he came over the side, Villiers grasped his chief's extended hand.
"'Fraid I haven't much of a kit," he remarked apologetically; "but this, I think, sir, is your property."
He held out the attaché-case. Harborough gazed at it with mingled surprise and amusement.
"You've a yarn to spin about that," he observed. "Come below. We're about to have dinner. You'll be able to have a word with Beverley before he goes on watch."
"I won't say that I've nothing to tell," remarked Jack, "because I have."