The next afternoon Denry received by post a ring in a box. "I will not submit to insult," ran the brief letter. "I only said ’Rothschild’!" Denry murmured to himself. "Can’t a fellow say ’Rothschild’?" But secretly he was proud of himself. CHAPTER V. THE MERCANTILE MARINE I The decisive scene, henceforward historic, occurred in the shanty known as "John’s cabin"—John being the unacknowledged leader of the ’longshore population—under the tail of Llandudno pier. The cabin, festooned with cordage, was lighted by an oil-lamp of a primitive model, and round the orange case on which the lamp was balanced sat Denry, Cregeen, the owner of the lifeboat, and John himself (to give, as it were, a semi-official character to whatever was afoot). "Well, here you are," said Denry, and handed to Cregeen a piece of paper. "What’s this, I ’m asking ye," said Cregeen, taking the paper in his large fingers and peering at it as though it had been a papyrus. But he knew quite well what it was. It was a check for twenty-five pounds. What he did not know was that, with the ten pounds paid in cash earlier in the day, it represented a very large part indeed of such of Denry’s savings as had survived his engagement to Ruth Earp. Cregeen took a pen as though it had been a match-end and wrote a receipt. Then, after finding a stamp in a pocket of his waistcoat under his jersey, he put it in his mouth and lost it there for a long time. Finally Denry got the receipt, certifying that he was the owner of the lifeboat formerly known as _Llandudno_, but momentarily without a name, together with all her gear and sails. "Are ye going to live in her?" the rather curt John enquired. "Not in her. On her," said Denry. And he went out on to the sand and shingle, leaving John and Cregeen to complete the sale to Cregeen of the _Fleetwing_, a small cutter specially designed to take twelve persons forth for "a pleasant sail in the bay." If Cregeen had not had a fancy for the _Fleetwing_ and a perfect lack of the money to buy her, Denry might never have been able to induce him to sell the lifeboat. Under another portion of the pier Denry met a sailor with a long white beard, the aged Simeon, who had been one of the crew that rescued the _Hjalmar_, but whom his colleagues appeared to regard rather as an ornament than as a motive force. "It’s all right," said Denry. And Simeon, in silence, nodded his head slowly several times. "I shall give you thirty shillings for the week," said Denry. And that venerable head oscillated again in the moon-lit gloom and rocked gradually to a standstill. Presently the head said, in shrill, slow tones: "I ’ve seen three o’ them Norwegian chaps. Two of ’em can no more speak English than a babe unborn; no, nor understand what ye say to ’em, though I fair bawled in their ear-holes." "So much the better," said Denry.