the vacant swing-back bench
at the far side of the table, and sat down opposite to Cartoner himself.

"Was up the Baltic," he explained. "Pit props. Got a full cargo on
board. Got an offer such as a poor sailorman couldn't afford to let slip
to come to Dantzic and wait here till two gents came aboard. That's all
I'm going to tell you."

"That's all I want to know," answered Cartoner.

"But, dammy, it's not all I want to know!" shouted Cable, suddenly, with
a bang of his little, thick fist on the table. "I've been thinking since
I lay here--been sleeping badly, and took the anchor watch meself--what
I want to know is whether I'm to be treated gentlemanly!"

"In what way?" inquired Cartoner, gently. And the sound of his voice
seemed to pacify the captain.

"Of course," he admitted, "I'm not a gentleman, I know that; but in
seafaring things I'll be treated as such. Truth is, I'm afraid it's
something to do with this news from St. Petersburg. And I don't take any
bombmen on board my ship, and that's flat."

"I think I can assure you on that point," said Cartoner. "Nobody who had
to do with the assassination of the Czar is likely to be in Dantzic. But
I do not know whom you are to take on board here."

"May be as you can guess," suggested the captain.

"Yes, I think I can guess," admitted Cartoner, with his slow smile.

"But you won't tell me?"

"No. When do you expect them?"

"I'll answer that and ask you another," said Captain Cable, getting
a yellow decanter from a locker beneath the table. "That's
port--ship-chandler's port. I won't say it's got a bokay, mind."

For Captain Cable's hospitality was not showy or self-sufficient.

"I'll answer that and ask you another. I expected them last night.
They'll likely come down with the tide, soon after midnight to-night.
And now I'll ask you, what brought you aboard this ship, here in Dantzic
River, Mr. Cartoner?"

"A letter from a Frenchman you know as well as I do--Paul Deulin. Like
to read it?"

And Cartoner laid the letter before Captain Cable, who smiled
contemptuously. He knew what was expected of a gentleman better than
even to glance at it as it lay before him in its envelope.

"No, I wouldn't," he answered. He scratched his head reflectively,
and looked beneath his bushy brows at Cartoner as if he expected the
ship-chandler's port to have an immediate effect of some sort.

"Got your luggage in the boat alongside?" he asked, at length.

"No. It's at