"This boat," he said, at length, "of which I am in charge, is the property of Captain Smith, of the _Sea Unicorn_, a distinguished English merchantman, burgess of the town of Poole--and I am responsible for her safekeeping till such time as she can be conveyed to that town." "It is indeed both an onerous and an honorable task," quoth Scarlett, "and one that could only be intrusted to a man of sense and probity--and I am sure from your appearance that you are both." Wat Gordon was getting tired of this bandying of words, and showed symptoms of breaking in. But as the youth looked seaward Scarlett dug his companion in the side with his elbow, in token that he was to be silent. Old Jack had an idea. "Captain Smith was perhaps overtaken by the late storm," he said, warily, "and so compelled to leave his long-boat behind him?" "Aye, and Wise Jan Pettigrew (for so I am nominated in all Poole and Branksea) was left in charge of it," said the youth, with proud consequence. "An important cargo was taken out to the _Sea Unicorn_ in this boat, I warrant, and one that will bring a high price when Captain Smith comes to reckon charges with the owner of that pretty thing." "Ah, Wise Master Jan Pettigrew, but you carry as pretty a wit and as shrewd a tongue in that head of yours as I have met with for many a day," said Scarlett, in a tone of high admiration. "So--so," said Jan Pettigrew, complacently crossing his legs again on the boat and taking deeper and deeper whiffs of his refilled pipe. "Aye, marry! a shrewd tongue and a biting. And whither might this treasure be going?" asked Wat, with more anxiety on his face than he ought to have shown. Scarlett darted an angry glance at him, and the tallowy youth, taking his pipe out of his mouth and holding it in his hand, regarded him with slowly dawning suspicion. "The matter is naturally a secret of my noble employer's," he replied, with dignity, "and of Captain Smith's. It has not been communicated to me with the idea of my retailing it to any chance idler on the beach who happens to come asking insolent questions." "Certainly you are right, and very well said, Master Pettigrew," said Scarlett, with admiration. "Wat, my lad, that settles you, I am thinking. The gentleman has his secrets, and he means to keep them. And mightily prudent of him, too. But as to this boat," he went on, "your master cannot mean you to take her along the coast by yourself all the way to meet him in Hamburg?" "My master has not gone to Hamburg," cried Jan Pettigrew, "but first of all to his own town of Poole, or at least to a place near by, which is also a secret with himself and with those who have the honor to serve him, and in whom he reposes confidence." Scarlett once more glanced round reprovingly at Wat. "Ah, let this be a lesson to you, young sirrah," he said; "see how carefully and yet how politely this gentleman can keep his master's secrets? Truly, this is a fellow to be trusted."