Over a week elapsed before Calamity and his partner met again, and, contrary to the Captain's expectations, Mr. Solomon evinced no desire to back out of the venture. On the contrary, he exhibited an almost painful desire to see the expedition set out with as little loss of time as possible—a fact which his partner regarded with not unreasonable suspicion.
"It depends on the ship," he said in reply to Mr. Solomon's eager inquiries. "How long am I to wait for her?"
"No need to vait at all; the ship is vaiting for you," said the other, pointing towards a newly painted steamer in the harbour.
Calamity gazed at the vessel and then at his companion with an air of mistrust. Such promptitude on Mr. Solomon's part was, to say the least, unusual.
"What about provisions, coal, guns, and so forth?" he demanded curtly.
"Everything's ready, and as to guns——" Mr. Solomon put his hand on the Captain's shoulder and whispered the rest in his ear.
"H'm," grunted Calamity, "I hope she's not some cursed old derelict you've picked up for a song."
"Picked up for a song!" echoed Mr. Solomon indignantly. "Vat you mean? She cost me——"
"Well?" inquired Calamity with interest as the other paused abruptly.
"Nodding—I mean," Mr. Solomon corrected himself hastily, "it has noddings to do with the matter. She is a peautiful ship."