Slyne, forgetful, in his new enthusiasm, of the terms on which they had parted, was at first somewhat taken aback by that outburst; but only at first. And his sanguine anticipations enabled him to endure it unmoved. It also gave him time to collect his ideas. He could see that his errand was not going to prove quite so easy as he had expected, and that he must play his new cards with discrimination. As soon as the evil old man in the bunk had exhausted himself in invective, Slyne spoke, smooth and cuttingly.
"I came back to do you a good turn. But—if that's how you're going to take it, you foul-mouthed old rapparee! I'll save my breath and be off again. What th' deuce d'ye mean by shouting at me as if I were a drunken deck-hand! Speak to me above a whisper now—and you'll see what'll happen to you. That's the police-boat pulling past."
The opportune plash of oars had suggested to him that plausible threat. Captain Dove, listening intently, crouched back against the bulkhead, his blinking, hot, suspicious eyes on Slyne's. The boat passed on. But he had found time to observe that Slyne was in evening dress, with an expensive fur coat to keep the cold out. And Slyne's cool contempt for his ill-temper would seem to have impressed him no less than Slyne's air of solid prosperity.
He himself, it appeared, had had care and adversity for his companions ever since parting with his former friend. His chief aim in calling at Genoa had been cheap coal and cheaper repairs, and he thought that he was less likely to be recognised there than elsewhere in the Mediterranean. But coal, he had found, had risen to a ruinous price in consequence of a recent strike among the miners in England; and for even the most trifling repairs he would have to wait at least a week, because the dock-yard people were already working over-time to make way for a man-of-war. Credit of any sort was not to be had. His portage-bill bade fair to swamp his insufficient cash resources—even although three of his now scanty crew had already deserted. And who could foretell what might happen to him if they should get wagging their tongues too freely in some wine-shop ashore! While, as if for climax, the Customs' authorities had been displaying a most suspicious interest in him and his ship. Under such circumstances, even a saint might have been pardoned, as he pointed out, for showing a temper something short of seraphic.
"And you've been doing me good turns—by your way of it—for some time past," he continued, in a stifled, vehement whisper lest his voice should still reach the receding boat. "Though—" He waved a claw-like hand about him, words again failing him to describe adequately his sufferings in consequence, as who should say, "See the result for yourself."
Slyne sat down on the sofa opposite him, not even condescending to glance, in response to that invitation, round the squalid, poverty-stricken little cabin. "Never mind about some time past," he advised, more pacifically. "You'll never get rich quick yesterday. To-day's when I'm going to make my pile. And I meant to let you in—"
"To another hole," Captain Dove concluded sceptically. "I only wish you'd show me some sure way out of the one I'm in."
Slyne looked his annoyance at that further interruption, and made as if to rise, but did no more than draw his gold cigarette-case from its pocket. He knew that Captain Dove was merely trying to aggravate him, and it would not have been politic to stray from the matter in hand. He lighted a cigarette at his leisure and waited for what should come next. He had changed his mind as to taking the old man fully into his confidence. He thought he could see his way to get all he wanted for a very great deal less than that might have cost him.
"Want a drink?" Captain Dove demanded, no doubt with the idea that a dose of spirit might serve to stir up his visitor's temper, and looked surprised at Slyne's curt head-shake, still more surprised over his response.
"I can't afford to drink at all hours of the day and night now," said Slyne austerely. "That sort of thing was all very well at sea, but—The business I have in hand isn't of the sort that can be carried out on raw brandy. And you'll have to taper off too, if you want to come in."