A bronzed, well-made youth was leaning over the craft’s stern, gazing out over the waters of the bay to where several black hulled frigates swung frowningly at anchor; his eyes seemed to soberly measure the flaunt of their colors, and the bravado of their staring ports.

At once the weazened little man was at his side.

“Good-morning, young gentleman,” said he, with a squeak. “It is a beautiful day, is it not?”

The young man turned and surveyed the newcomer.

“Yes,” he returned, “it is a fine day enough.”

“You came down from New London, I understand,” questioned the dry little man. The youth nodded rather absently. However, the other rubbed his hands with quite a degree of briskness and seemed greatly pleased. “And,” said he, positively, “you were required to deliver—ah—something to—ah—some one?”

[12]The youth was alert enough now; he examined the little man with inquiring eyes.

[12]

“Quite so,” he replied.

The hand rubbing now indicated vast relief; but in a moment it ceased, and an expression of disquiet came into the wrinkled, high-featured face.

“Of course,” spoke the little man, eagerly, “this vessel is the ‘Nancy Breen’?”

“It is,” answered the other.

The disquiet instantly departed; the squeak in the voice was full and content as the newcomer said:

“I had really forgotten to inquire; and it was a rather important question, too. But no matter.” Here the voice lowered itself into a pitch of confidence. “I was sent to give you a few instructions.”

“From headquarters?”

“Yes. You are not to make yourself known. I was to impress that upon you fully. Neither are you to call at any one’s lodgings.”

The young man seemed puzzled.

“That has rather an odd sound,” said he. “Where am I to transact my business?”

[13]“There are many places where it may be done without attracting attention. But the best of these perhaps is the ‘Wheat Sheaf,’ an inn just above the city.”

 Prev. P 5/155 next