may serve, and perhaps we should be well advised to take a grapnel and say ten fathoms of stout line.'
'By all means, though I doubt you see your balcony at all, it is coming on so thick: why, now I can barely make out my neighbour Dawson's light from here, though half an hour ago it was quite sharp and clear. The only thing that worries me, is my blacks to carry the basket.'
'Do they have to be black men?'
'No. But it would seem more natural, pass unnoticed.'
'If I were blacked, as you suggest, I would do for one.'
'But your arm, my dear sir, your arm; and your general state of health.'
'My left arm has never been better, and it is certainly strong enough to carry half Maturin. Look.' He gazed about for some heavy object, pitched upon a tall marble stand, and raised it high. 'And yet, sir,' he went on, 'upon reflection, I believe we must first reconnoitre. -A cutting-out expedition, without you know the harbour and the tides, is often a sad waste of life. Do by all means send your ship-keeper away, and until your son comes back we can weigh our measures, take counsel, and consider.'
'Very well. Michael, take the little mare.'
The interval was of no great length, and Mr Herapath filled it by drawing a better plan of the hotel, fetching the basket, several corks, some line and a pot-hook that would serve as a grapnel; he loaded a blunderbuss and three horse-pistols, double-charged and double-shotted. He was excited as a boy, and it was clear that he wished to be doing right away: he did not like the notion of a mere reconnaissance, but hoped to carry out the coup de main, as he often called it, in a single operation. His mind was much set on his second Negro and at one time Jack thought of the Indian porter. But how far was the man to be relied upon? There would be questions, and many of them, when the dead Frenchmen were discovered; and Jack had no wish for them to be discovered, all three, in the hiding-hole aboard Arcturus. Nor did he want Herapath to put his head into a noose. 'There is another small point to be considered,' he said, 'and that is the provision of someone to hold the horses, unless you stay on the box.'
'Oh, as for that,' said Herapath, 'any blackguard boy will do. There are always blackguard boys hanging around the hotel, to hold horses' heads.'
'Yes,' said Jack, 'but will not your blackguard boy recognize Mr Herapath?'
'Oh,' said Mr Herapath. 'Oh. Yes, indeed: I had best stay on the box, muffled up.'
Jack looked at his face: 'I had better not press that point,' he reflected, and he said, 'Might I trouble you for a civilian coat, Mr Herapath? Epaulettes are tolerably conspicuous, even on a foggy night.' He was indeed a conspicuous figure in a post-captain's uniform, complete but for his surrendered sword. 'Perhaps a serving-man's coat, or a frock, might be best: and a common round hat, if you have one at hand.'
'You think of everything,' said Herapath, and he hurried off. His enthusiasm, momentarily damped, blazed up again as he reclothed Jack in a choice of different coats, settling for a worn, sad-coloured gabardine. 'But we shall have to have your hair off, my dear sir, before we turn you into a convincing nigger.' Jack's hair was long and yellow, and he wore it clubbed, tied with a black ribbon between his shoulder-blades. 'I shall fetch scissors. And now I come to think of it, walnut-juice would be far better than burnt cork. You would not object to walnut-juice, Captain Aubrey?'
'Never in life,' said Jack. 'Once we have surveyed the field, and once we have fixed upon our plan, you shall dye me from head to foot, and clip my hair off too, if you wish.'
They fell silent, listening for Michael's return: Herapath fiddled with his buck-basket, blunderbuss, and the cordage, fetched one dark lantern and two plain, and a basket of provisions for the hiding-hole; Jack studied the plan. He did not regret his step - it was the only move open to him - but he did regret old Herapath's zeal. He was by no means sure how the old gentleman would behave when the expedition turned from something like play to earnest, perhaps very bloody earnest; and he much regretted the earliness of the hour. For such an operation the later the time and the fewer people about the better; and keeping Herapath easy was going to be a task. Nor did he see the necessity for Negroes. The natural carriers were the hotel's men.
'Here he is,' said Herapath, and a moment later his son walked in. 'Is all well, Michael?' he asked.
'Yes, sir. Joe is on his way to Salem in Gooch's cart. And the coach is ready in the yard. I have sent Abednigo to bed.'
'Good boy. Now let us load these things aboard: they can all go into the buck-basket. Take care of the blunderbuss. Make haste, make haste. Now, sir, this way, if you please.'
'First,' said Jack deliberately, 'I will ask you to drive me to the barque. It is a cardinal rule of tactics, to ensure one's line of retreat.' His tone was so convinced, so authoritative, that Mr Herapath made no objection, although he did look a little discontented.
He climbed on to the box; they rolled out of the stable yard; and at once it became apparent to Jack that Mr Herapath was no great coachman. They gave the rounded stone at the corner into the street a long grinding scrape; and the driver's excitement communicating itself to the horses, the coach soon began to bound and rattle over the indifferent paving at such a pace, in spite of the fog, that those inside had to cling on, while Mr Herapath kept up a steady 'Hey now, Roger. Easy, Bess. Easy, Rob. Hey there!'
They very nearly crushed two drunken soldiers, and they drove one gig fairly on to the sidewalk, but happily there was little other traffic in the streets, and the horses sobered as they neared the harbour. Herapath drove to his usual tavern - or rather the horses took him there -and they walked along the quays to the Arcturus, carrying a lantern and the basket of provisions.
'Now, sir,' said Mr Herapath, leading them below, 'I shall show you something that I reckon will surprise you.
Below, with the smell of tar and cordage and bilgewater, aft to the bread-room and there they stood: the space, now empty, was entirely lined with sheet-metal, tinned, against the rats, and it still smelt of biscuit. Mr Herapath pressed the wooden slats that held these sheets, jerked them, and sounded the panels, all of which gave the same hollow boom. 'Where is it?' he muttered. 'Damn my eyes, I could have sworn... seen it a hundred times.'
'I believe it is this one, sir,' said his son, causing a slat to pivot. The metal sheet opened upwards on a hinge, showing a space where four or five hands could lie hidden while the ship was being searched.
'There! Look at that,' cried Mr Herapath. 'I said I should amaze you.'
