the jetty by stalwart Marathas clad
only in loincloths, and stored in rude cabins with penthouse roofs. As
Desmond knew, the heavy chests that taxed the strength of the bearers
contained for the most part muskets and ammunition. The work went on for
the greater part of the day, and at nightfall neither the captain nor
Diggle had returned to the vessel.

Next day a large quantity of Indian produce was taken on board. Desmond
noticed that as the bales and casks reached the deck, some of the crew
were told off to remove all marks from them.

"What's that for?" repeated Bulger, in reply to a question of Desmond's.
"Why, 'cos if the ship came to be overhauled by a Company's vessel, it
would tell tales if the cargo had Company's marks on it. That wouldn't do
by no manner o' means."

"But how should they get Company's marks on them?"

Bulger winked.

"You're raw yet, Burke," he said. "You'll know quite as much as is good
for you by the time you've made another voyage or two in the Good
Intent."

"But I don't intend to make another voyage in her. Mr. Diggle promised to
get me employment in the country."

"What? You still believes in that there Diggle? Well, I don't want to
hurt no feelin's, and I may be wrong, but I'll lay my bottom dollar
Diggle won't do a hand's turn for you."

The second day passed, and in the evening Captain Barker, who had
hitherto left Mr. Toley in charge, came aboard in high humor.

"I may be wrong," remarked Bulger, "but judgin' by cap'n's face, he've
been an' choused the Pirate--got twice the valley o' the goods he's
landed."

"I wonder where Mr. Diggle is?" said Desmond.

"You en't no call to mourn for him, I tell you. He's an old friend of the
Pirate, don't make no mistake; neither you nor me will be any the worse
for not seein' his grinnin' phiz no more. Thank your stars he've left you
alone for the last part of the voyage, which I wonder at, all the same."

Next day all was bustle on board in preparation for sailing. In the
afternoon a peon {messenger} came hurrying along the jetty, boarded the
vessel, and handed a note to the captain, who read it, tore it up, and
dismissed the messenger. He went down to his cabin, and coming up a few
minutes later, cried:

"Where's that boy Burke?"

"Here, sir," cried Desmond, starting up from the place where, in Bulger's
company, he had been splicing a rope.

"Idling away your time as usual, of course. Here, take this chit {note}
and run a