Part 23 (1/2)

Tresco drew himself up with dignity.

”This is quite unexpected,” he said. ”The honour is great. Who do I see here but Fish-ho and his amiable mate? It is sad, gentlemen, but I'm off flounders since the Chinaman, who died aboard the barque, was buried in the bay. It is a great misfortune for Fish-ho to have dead Chinamen buried on his fis.h.i.+ng-grounds, but such is the undoubted fact.”

”You need have no fear on that score, mister,” said the red-headed sailor. ”They've not come to sell fish. Speak up, Macaroni.”

”We come to tella you we come from Mr. Crookendena. We come to you accepta ze service of Rocka Codda and Macaroni.”

For one brief moment Tresco looked perplexed. Then his face a.s.sumed its usual complacence. ”Are you in the know, too?” he asked of the seaman.

”All I know is that I was told to pilot these two men to your shop. That done, I say good-day.”

”And the same to you,” said Tresco. ”Happy to have met you, sir, and I'm sorry there's nothing to offer you in the jug but water.”

”There's no bones broke anyway,” replied the sailor as he edged towards the door. ”But if you'll say when the real old stingo is on tap, I'll show you how to use the water.”

”Certainly,” said Tresco. ”Nothing will please me better. Good afternoon. Sorry you must go so soon. Take great care of yourself. Good men are scarce.”

As the door closed behind the sailor the goldsmith turned to the fishermen.

”So you were sent to me by Mr. Crookenden?”

”That's so.” It was Rock Cod who answered. ”He give us the price of a drink, an' says he, 'There'll be five pound each for you if you do as Mr. Tresco tells you.' We're a-waitin' orders; ain't that so, Macaroni?”

”Rocka Codda spik alla right--he understanda ze Inglese. I leave-a it to him.”

”You are good men in a boat, I have no doubt. Very good.” The goldsmith pursed his lips, and looked very important. ”Mr. Crookenden has entrusted me with a mission. You row the boat--I carry out the mission.

All you have to do is to bring your boat round to Mr. Crookenden's wharf at ten o'clock to-night, and the rest is simple. Your money will be paid you in the morning, in full tale, up to the handle, without fail. You understand? Five pounds a piece for a few hours' hire of your boat and services.”

”We catch your drift all right,” said Rock Cod.

”But, remember”--the goldsmith looked very serious--”mum's the word.”

”I have ze mum,” said Macaroni. ”I spik only to Rocka Codda, he spik only to me--zat alla right?”

”Quite so, but be punctual. We shall go out at ten o'clock, wet or fine.

Till then, adieu.”

”Ze same to you,” said the Italian. ”You ze fine fella.”

”Take this, and drink success to my mission.” Tresco handed them a silver coin.

”That part of the business is easy,” remarked Rock Cod. ”But as to the job you've got in hand, well, the nature o' that gets over _me_.”

”All you're asked to do is to row,” said Tresco. ”As to the rest, that lies with me and my resourcefulness. Now git.”

Benjamin opened the door, and pushed the fishermen out.

”Remember,” he said, as they departed, ”if I hear a word about the matter in the bar of any hotel, our bargain is off and not a cent will you get for your pains.”