“More,” he interrupted. “Your wages will be ten pounds a month.”
“I do not like the idea,” said I after a pause, “of taking Van Laar’s place.”
“From him, do you mean?”
“From him, of course. The post is another thing.”
“It is I,” said he, “not you, who take it from him. Now, pray, distinctly understand this, Fielding, that, whether you accept or not, Van Laar will shortly cease to be my mate. If you refuse then Yan Bol comes aft, and Laar either takes his place or goes home in the first ship we meet.”
He spoke with a hard face and some severity of voice. It was quite clear that his mind was resolved, so far as Van Laar’s relations with the brig was concerned.
“It is a fine offer,” said I. “You will give me time to think it over, I hope?”
“What time do you require?”
I again looked at the little clock.
“I shall be able to see my way in a few hours, I hope.”