"And he paid you to take me on this trip?"
"No, excuse me. We pay you. You've signed on as steward at a bob a day wages. We're not licensed to carry passengers. The Board o' Trade don't like such old tubs as the Pentyrch. Yet she's a good old boat, I'll say that much for her. You'll see England again all right, never fear—unless the bloomin' boilers burst. They're none too strong, I'm afraid."
"You're not over cheerful, Captain Bowden," the young man remarked, more puzzled than ever at the extraordinary situation.
"Oh, I'm cheerful enough. It's you who seems to be a-worryin' over things."
"Well, and wouldn't you worry if you were drugged, waking first to find yourself locked in a strange room, and then again wakening a second time to discover yourself at sea?"
"You want rest, my dear young fellow—rest! And you'll get it here on the old tub. The weather will be better when we get along the West Coast."
"How can I send a message to London?"
"We ain't got wireless. Too expensive for such a hooker as this. It means an operator with lightnin' round his cap. So you'll have to wait till we get to Singapore, and then you can cable."
Wait for five or six weeks till the vessel arrived at Singapore! What would Marigold think? What was she thinking now?
He was, of course, in ignorance of those cleverly worded and reassuring telegrams.