The captain went through the required form, breathing short, and gazing on the clerk with anguish. What to fear, he knew not; yet he feared slavishly what was to fall from the pale lips.
'Now, if you'll excuse me 'alf a second,' said Huish, 'I'll go and fetch the byby.'
'The baby?' said Davis. 'What's that?'
'Fragile. With care. This side up,' replied the clerk with a wink, as he disappeared.
He returned, smiling to himself, and carrying in his hand a silk handkerchief. The long stupid wrinkles ran up Davis's brow, as he saw it. What should it contain? He could think of nothing more recondite than a revolver.
Huish resumed his seat.
'Now,' said he, 'are you man enough to take charge of 'Errick and the niggers? Because I'll take care of Hattwater.'
'How?' cried Davis. 'You can't!'
'Tut, tut!' said the clerk. 'You gimme time. Wot's the first point? The first point is that we can't get ashore, and I'll make you a present of that for a 'ard one. But 'ow about a flag of truce? Would that do the trick, d'ye think? or would Attwater simply blyze aw'y at us in the bloomin' boat like dawgs?'
'No,' said Davis, 'I don't believe he would.'