The boat from the Noank reached a wharf, and it had not come there upon any mere pleasure trip.
"Short work, now, Groot," said the captain. "If you can't find your men right away, I'll take a look after mine."
Away they went, along the water front, until they were halted by Groot in front of an immense, dingy old warehouse.
"Opdyke Freres," he read the faded sign over the entrance of it. "They are here, yet. Brest and Amsterdam. What goods they can't handle in France, they can in Holland. They'll do the fair thing by us,—so we'll be sure to come to them again."
"That's our grip on their honesty, this time," said Captain Avery.
In two minutes more, the entire boat's crew of the Noank was gathered in a counting-room in the rear of the warehouse. It looked as if a hundred generations of spiders had made their webs in its corners, undisturbed.
A short, fat man turned upon a high stool at a desk to inquire, in Dutch:—
"Oh! Mynheer Groot! Not hung yet? Is it some new business?"
Part of Groot's reply was a rapid introduction of his friends, while he stated their errand. There could be nothing but utter mutual confidence in such a case, and the head of the house of Opdyke Brothers was exceedingly outspoken.
"We take the deck-cargo to-night," he said. "Our lighters will come as soon as it is dark. You will pay the custom-house men ten thousand francs down, so they will not know anything about it. I will be there and one of my brothers. We will take off as much more as we can to-morrow night. You will go to Amsterdam with your next cargo or prizes. The British are increasing their guard. Ha, ha! It is war with them, too, and they take some prizes. We buy of them every now and then."