“Then you refuse me my liberty?” I said, feeling that to argue pleasantly was useless.
“Yes, you’ve got to stay ’ere.”
“By whose orders?”
“That’s my own business,” he growled.
“And mine also,” I responded firmly. “You may be skipper of this craft, but you are not a gaoler, you know.”
“I’m your gaoler, at any rate.”
“That remains to be seen,” I answered. “I suppose you’ve been paid to take me out of the country, like this; but I may as well warn you that you are aiding and abetting a murder, and that when you get ashore you’ll find yourself in a very nasty position.”
“With the Consul, eh?” he laughed. “Well, they’re a decent lot, as a rule. We don’t get much trouble with ’em if we deposit our papers in order.”
“But if I demanded your arrest for illegal imprisonment?”
“I don’t fancy you’d do that, mister,” he responded with sarcasm. “It might be a bit of a bother for me in England, but the foreign police are a bit chary of touching a British capt’n.”