The morning after my interview with Hughes I took train to Chelmsford, and thence despatched the pretended telegram from his wife. When I got back to Southend, the telegram which Hughes was to send to his supposed brother was waiting for me at the address we had arranged between us. Lest the police should be tampering with letters and telegrams, I had arranged that Hughes’ message should contain nothing more than a request that Bill Hughes would come over to see his brother Jim at Canvey. To Canvey I accordingly went, calling first at my cottage, where I arrayed myself in a well-worn suit of waterman’s clothes, which I had kept there all along lest I should at any time have to assume a disguise. My next procedure was to shave off the beard which I had been wearing on the night of the explosion at the Post Office. The fact that the night had been very dark was against Mullen’s knowing me again, for though the bursting of the bomb had lit up the whole neighbourhood, the street in which our encounter had taken place was entirely in shadow, owing to the height of the buildings on either side. That it was quite possible he would recognise me, if only by my voice, I fully realised, and I knew perfectly well that every moment I spent in his company my life would be in my own hands; but I flattered myself that I was more than a match for him in a fair fight, and in regard to foul play,--well, forewarned is forearmed, and I was not unprepared. I waited until it was dark before starting for the hulk. Hughes came on deck in reply to my hail, and proved a better actor than might have been expected. After he had inquired gruffly, “Is that you, Bill?” and I had responded, “Bill it is, Jim,” and had been bidden come aboard, he went on--in response to my question of “Wot’s up?”--to speak his part in the little play which we had rehearsed together. He informed me he had had a telegram to say that his wife was ill, and that he wished to go to her, but did not like applying for relief because he had a cove on board, disguised as a woman (this in a lowered voice, according to instruction), who had got into a scrape and wanted to lie low awhile. My supposed brother then went on to ask me if I would take charge of the hulk in his absence, assuring me that the cove was “a good un to pay,” and that the job would be worth a five-pound note if I promised to keep my mouth shut. To all this Mullen was no doubt listening, so I replied--emphasising my remark with the expectoration and expletives which might be looked for from a seafaring man--that I was ready to take over the job and keep my own counsel. That point being satisfactorily settled, I was invited to step below and make the acquaintance of the gentleman in the cabin. CHAPTER XXIX I TRY A FALL WITH JAMES MULLEN Some one dressed like a woman was standing by the stove whistling softly to himself while paring his nails with a pearl-handled knife.