A wicked gleam came into the captain's eyes.
"If you fail in that which you are instructed to do—and which I know nothing of at present—this is your death-warrant?"
"It is."
"Then see you fail not."
"Rely on it, I shall not fail!"
The words were spoken in such cold, deliberate tones that the captain—a man who boasted he knew not fear—shivered as though from the touch of an icy hand.
"What are your orders?" presently asked the captain, eyeing him keenly.
"To pilot the lugger to the head of Port Creek, where friends await her cargo. The old landings are played out; but who would suspect a lugger to effect a run in the creek after dark?"
"No human hand could steer that course!"