Captain Brisket, looking suddenly very solemn, shook
his head and said that it was impossible. He
spoke in moving terms of the danger to discipline,
and called upon Mr. Duckett to confirm his fears.
Meantime, Mr. Stobell, opening his right eye slowly,
winked with the left.
“You go on with them alterations,” he
repeated.
Captain Brisket started and reflected. A nod
from Mr. Tredgold and a significant gesture in the
direction of the unconscious Mr. Chalk decided him.
“Very good, gentlemen,” he said, cheerfully.
“I’m in your hands, and Peter Ducket’ll
do what I do. It’s settled he’s coming,
I suppose?”
Mr. Tredgold, after a long look at the anxious face
of Mr. Duckett, said “Yes,” and then at
Captain Brisket’s suggestion the party adjourned
to the Jack Ashore, where in a little room upstairs,
not much larger than the schooner’s cabin, the
preparations for the voyage were discussed in detail.
“And mind, Peter,” said Captain Brisket
to his friend, as the pair strolled along by the harbour
after their principals had departed, “the less
you say about this the better. We don’t
want any Biddlecombe men in it.”
“Why not?” inquired the other.
“Because,” replied Brisket, lowering his
voice, “there’s more in this than meets
the eye. They’re not the sort to go on
a cruise to the islands for pleasure—except
Chalk, that is. I’ve been keeping my ears
open, and there’s something afoot. D’ye
take me?”
[Illustration: “There’s more in this
than meets the eye.”]
Mr. Duckett nodded shrewdly.
“I’ll pick a crew for ’em,”
said Brisket. “A man here and a man there.
Biddlecombe men ain’t tough enough. And
now, what about that whisky you’ve been talking
so much about?”
Further secrecy as to the projected trip being now
useless, Mr. Tredgold made the best of the situation
and talked freely concerning it. To the astonished
Edward he spoke feelingly of seeing the world before
the insidious encroachments of age should render it
impossible; to Captain Bowers, whom he met in the
High Street, he discussed destinations with the air
of a man whose mind was singularly open on the subject.
If he had any choice it appeared that it was in the
direction of North America.
“You might do worse,” said the captain,
grimly.
“Chalk,” said Mr. Tredgold, meditatively
“Chalk favours the South. I think that
he got rather excited by your description of the islands
there. He is a very—”
“If you are going to try and find that island
I spoke about,” interrupted the captain, impatiently,
“I warn you solemnly that you are wasting both
your time and your money. If I had known of this
voyage I would have told you so before. If you
take my advice you’ll sell your schooner and
stick to business you understand.”
Mr. Tredgold laughed easily. “We may look
for it if we go that way,” he said. “I
believe that Chalk has bought a trowel, in case we
run up against it. He has got a romantic belief
in coincidences, you know.”
