“Suppose she vhas deadt?”
“I will suppose nothing. Tulp is alive until we know he is dead; and when we know that he is dead we will think of what’s next to be done.”
“Vell, dot’s straight-hitting. I like her.”
“You shall suppose Tulp alive. He will come on wings from the city of Amsterdam; and, when he is on board, every man will take his share of the dollars according to his paper of proportion. Tulp touches not one dollar until he pays us our share. We will then hold him to carry out whatever schemes he prearranged with Captain Greaves.”
“Vell, dot vhas all right; but, Mr. Fielding, der ship’s company likes to know if dere vhas any reesk vhen you gets her home?”
“Who home?”
“Der money.”
“Risk? I don’t understand.”
“Vell, dey puts it as she might pe dis vay. Ve vhas in der Downs. A boat cooms alongside, und somepody climbps on poardt und oxes, ‘Vhat vhas your cargo?’ ‘Dot vhas my peesiness,’ you say. ‘Not at all,’ he answers. ‘I vhas a King’s officer. I belongs to der Revenue.’ How vhas it, den, mit her, der ship’s company vould like to know, Mr. Fielding?”
“We should not be searched for cargo in the Downs—for men, perhaps; but who would meddle with the cargo?”