“What for?”
“To take this trunk aboard.”
“Very good; you shall take these three letters too.”
Mess Lethierry opened the drawer of his table, took a piece of string, tied the three letters which he had just written across and across, and threw the packet to the boy, who caught it between his hands.
“Tell the captain of the Cashmere they are my letters, and to take care of them. They are for Germany—Brême viâ London.”
“I can’t speak to the captain, Mess Lethierry.”
“Why not?”
“The Cashmere is not at the quay.”
“Ah!”
“She is in the roads.”