"He is just the fellow for a dirty fluke. Watch over
Nadine, Simpson," cried Hardwicke, "for I've sworn to make her my
wife, within three months, uncle or no uncle!"
"I will," growled Simpson. "I've an old grudge to settle with the
Major, and I'll tell you some day," said the veteran. "Let us go
in. There are some curious people here. I'll tell you all when
I'm your own man, and the young mistress is Mrs. Major Hardwicke!"
On this very evening, as the gray mists hid the Jersey outline
from the windows of Etienne Garcin's den, Jack Blunt and Major Alan
Hawke were seated in the Major's bedroom in the cabaret. They were
cheerfully discussing two steaming "grogs," but there was doubt and
a shifty lack of thorough confidence between the two scoundrels as
yet.
"So you think the boat will do?" flatly demanded Jack Blunt, offering
some exceptional cigars.
"Just the thing," carefully replied the Major. "And your terms for
a two weeks charter?"
"Twenty-five hundred francs for the boat and outfit--the same sum
for the gang, cash down. Two weeks, with the privilege of renewal
for two more-at the same rate," doggedly said Blunt. "Now, you've
got to make up your mind soon, Hawke," said Jack Blunt roughly.
"I've told you the whole lay, and so far, have given you the worth of
your money. If you can't 'come up,' then I'm going to run a lugger
load of brandy and 'baccy over to the Irish coast.
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