“Just excuse me for a moment, captain,” said Stranleigh, “and I’ll speak to them. You know you did rather tyrannize over us when we first hailed you, and they probably think you’ve Mac-kellered me. I rather flatter myself I’ve made a pun there, for ‘keller’ is the German for cellar.” The young man sprang lightly up the steps, and went over to the bulwarks. “Is it all right, sir?” shouted Mackeller. “All right, thank you.” “It’s getting dark, you know. Hadn’t I better heave a revolver up to you, and if they try any tricks you can fire it off, and we’ll be aboard before you can say ‘Schwartzbrod.’” “Ah, Mackeller, Mackeller, you’re always thinking of deadly weapons and acts of piracy! No wonder I get a bad name in marine circles. Everything’s going smoothly, and I expect to be with you within ten minutes.” Stranleigh returned to the cabin, where he found the captain sitting, staring into vacancy. Some one had lit an odorous oil lamp. “Well, captain, before answering your question, I wish to say that I am interested in mercantile traffic aside from my ownership of the _Rajah_. Before I left England I reserved for you the berth of captain on a new steamer called the _Wychwood_, twice the size of this boat, that is intended for the South American trade. I think she will be ready for you by the time we reach Plymouth, and the moment we are in Plymouth I shall hand you a check for a thousand pounds to secure that bit of land by Southampton water. What sort of a crew have you aboard here? A mutinous lot, or easy going?” “Oh, the crew’s all right, earl. They’re Devon men, most of them. It was a rough lot of passengers we took out under charge of Frowning-shield, but they herded most by themselves, and held no truck with the crew. The crew’s all right, sir.” “Do you think any of the crew knew what was going on?” “No, I don’t suppose anybody knew what was going on but me and Frowningshield.” “Would you like to have your present crew with you on the new steamer?” “Yes, sir, I would.” “Officers, too?” “Yes, I would. Officers, too.” “Very well, I want you to come aboard my yacht, and be captain of her from here to Plymouth. Take the mate with you, if you like, or any of the other officers, and take such of the crew as are not Devon men. I’ll put some of my own fellows aboard in their place.” “You mean me to leave the ship, my lord?” “Yes. The yacht’s captain and mate will take the place of you and your mate.” The captain’s face was a study of indecision and doubt. “It doesn’t seem quite right, my lord.”