“We have just finished tea, Captain,” said Mrs. Carruthers with her pretty touch of a cultivated Irish accent; “but Marjorie will tell Tryphosa to set yours on the table at once.”

“All right, Honoria!” growled Mr. Thomas; “I’m in port here for the night, and I’m a goin’ to make fast; so be I hev to belay on to the lee side of a stack of shingle bolts.  Now, Marjorie, my pet, give daddy another kiss, and run away for a bit.  John, I want you right away.”

With the latter words, the Captain took the Squire off to the far end of the verandah, and sat down with his legs dangling over among the flowers, causing his brother-in-law to do the same.  “John,” said he, taking off his naval cap, and mopping his forehead, “you’re all goin’ to be murdered to-night in your bunks, else I wouldn’t ha’ quit dock o’ Sunday.”

“Whatever do you mean, Thomas?”

“I mean what I say, and well to you and yourn.  Sylvanus was down at Peskiwanchow, gettin’ some things his brother left there, when he shipped for you.  There’s a bad crew in that whiskey mill, and, fool as he is, he was sharp enough to hear them unbeknown.  Says one of ’em, ‘Better get out the fire-engines from town,’ and he laughed.  Says another, ‘Guess the boys’ll hev a nice bonefire waitin’ for us, time we get to Flanders.’  Then the low-down slab-pilers got their mutinous heads together, and says, ’The J.P. and the bailiff’s got to be roasted anyway, wisht we could heave Nash in atop.’  I’ve left the cursing and swearin’ out, because it’s useless ballast, and don’t count in the deal any more’n sawdust.  Now, John, what do you think of that?”

“It looks serious, Thomas, if your man is to be depended on.”

“My man depended on?  Sylvanus Pilgrim to be depended on?  There’s no more dependable able-bodied seaman and master mill-hand afloat nor ashore.  He’s true as the needle to the pole and the gang-saw to the plank.  Don’t you go saying wrong of Sylvanus.”

“I must take Nash into confidence with us, and call up your informant,” said the Squire, leading the Captain into the house and setting him carefully down at the tea table, where Mrs. Carruthers waited upon him.  Then he looked up Sylvanus in the kitchen, and told him to report as soon as he had taken his supper.  “We have no time to lose, Pilgrim,” he added, “so let Tryphena alone till our talk is over.  She’ll keep.”

“I ain’t agoin’ ter persume ter tech Trypheeny, Square, an’ I’ll be along in a half tack,” replied The Crew.

Next, Nash was found smoking a cigar, and talking very earnestly with Mr. Errol about presentiments, and sudden remembrances of childhood’s days.  He dropped the conversation at once when business was mentioned, and, in a few minutes, the Squire’s official room contained five men, with very serious faces, seeking to come to a full understanding of what seemed a diabolical plot on the part of some spiteful malefactors.  Four of these have already been indicated; the fifth was the lawyer, who proved a useful addition for pumping Sylvanus dry and taking careful notes.