“Shan't take your damned word for it,” growled Hervey. “But if those two gents can swear that there's no trickery, I'll come. I can depend on the word of an English aristocrat, anyhow.”
“Come along. You are quite safe,” said Sir Frank, and Hope echoed his words.
Thus being made certain, Hervey gave an order and the boat was rowed right up to the beach, immediately below the jetty. The four men were about to descend, but Hervey seemed anxious to avoid giving them trouble.
“Hold on, gents,” said he, leaping ashore. “I'll come up 'longside.”
Date, ever suspicious, thought it queer that the skipper should behave so politely, as he had gathered that Hervey was not usually a considerate man. Also, he saw that when the captain was climbing the bank, the boat, in charge of a mate—as the inspector judged from his brass-bound uniform—backed water to the end of the jetty, where it swung against one of the shell-encrusted piles. Hervey finally reached the jetty level, but refused to come on to the same. He beckoned to Don Pedro and his companions to walk forward to the ground upon which he was standing. Also, he seemed exceedingly anxious to take time over the transaction, as even after he had handed the scroll of writing to the Peruvian, and had received the gold in exchange, he engaged in quarrelsome conversation. Pretending that he doubted if De Gayangos had brought the exact sum, he opened the canvas bag and insisted on counting the money. Don Pedro naturally lost his temper at this insult, and swore in Spanish, upon which Hervey responded with such volubility that anyone could see he was a pastmaster in Castilian swearing. The row was considerable, especially as Random and Hope were laughing at the quarrel. They thought that Hervey was the worse for drink, but Date—clever for once in his life—did not think so. It appeared to him that the boat had gone to