The father’s voice broke momentarily, but he at once pulled himself together again.
“Tremorne, tell the captain to get the yacht under way. We will go on board immediately. We shall want an escort from Chemulpo to Seoul; can we depend on getting them at the port as we did before, or had we better bring them from Nagasaki?”
“I think, sir,” said I, “that it would be well to take a dozen from here. They are men I can trust, and I shall have them aboard the yacht before steam is up.”
“Very well,” he said, decisively, “see to it.”
I sent a messenger to the captain, then devoted all my energies to the selecting of my twelve men, taking care that they were properly armed and provided with rations. I sent them aboard one by one or two by two in sampans, so that too much attention might not be attracted toward our expedition.
This task accomplished, I hurried back to the hotel, and found Mr. Hemster and Hilda waiting for me. Cammerford was there also, talking in a low voice very earnestly with the old gentleman, who stood with his eyes bent on the ground, making no reply to the other’s expostulations beyond shaking his head now and then. Hilda and I went on ahead to the landing, the two men following us. To my surprise Cammerford stepped into the launch and continued talking to the silent man beside him. When we reached the yacht Mr. Hemster without a word mounted the steps to the deck. Hilda followed, and Cammerford stood in the launch, a puzzled expression on his face. After a momentary hesitation he pushed past me, and ran up the steps. I also went on deck, and by the time I reached there my chief was already in his wicker chair with his feet on the rail, and a fresh unlit cigar in his mouth. Cammerford went jauntily up to him and said with a laugh that seemed somewhat forced:
“Well, Mr. Hemster, I propose to continue this discussion to Corea.”
“Just as you please,” replied the old man nonchalantly. “I think we can make you very comfortable on board.”