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Three times they failed to get round the last point, met at each time by clouds of hissing spray. When at last they sailed in, there was a little crowd to watch them. Nichols and Lethbridge stood on one side with gloomy faces. "It's a queer day for pleasure sailing," Nicholas remarked to Job Rowsell, as he came up the wet steps of the pier.
But he's come into money some way or other, Job Rowsell has. There's none of us knows how, and it ain't our business, but he spends most of his time in the public-house and he seems to have taken a fancy for night sailing alone, which to my mind, and there are others of us as say the same, ain't none too healthy an occupation. And that's all there is to be said of Job Rowsell, as I knows of."
He went off on the eight o'clock boat for Penzance." Nichols commenced stolidly to furl his sails again. "It's my thinking Lethbridge," he said, as he clambered into the dinghy, "that there's things going on in this island which you and me don't understand. I'm for a few plain words with Job Rowsell, though he's my own sister's husband."
"Well," he decided, "it seems to me I must talk to this chap Rowsell before I do anything. I'm under a sort of promise." The two boatmen looked at one another. The one who had addressed him first turned a little away. "Just as you like, sir," he announced. "No doubt Rowsell will be up this way towards afternoon." "Afternoon? But I want to go out at once," Granet protested.
They walked together down to the harbour. Granet said very little, his companion nothing at all. They stood on the jetty and gazed across to where the sailing boats were anchored. "That's the Saucy Jane," Job Rowsell indicated, stretching out a forefinger. Granet scrambled down into a small dinghy which was tied to the side of the stone wall. "We'd better be getting on board," he suggested.
"No, you can sail the boat all right," Rowsell admitted, looking back over his shoulder. "You'd sail it into Hell itself, if one'd let you. Come on, you boys, if there's any one of you as fancies to drink. I'm wet to the skin." Nichols' boat was duly prepared at nine o'clock on the following morning. Lethbridge shouted to him from the rails. "Gentleman's changed his mind, I reckon.
"I'll have none of that on my boat," the man declared surlily. "An odd fiver for a kindness " "Shut up!" Granet snapped, drawing his revolver from his pocket. "You run the boat and mind your own business, Rowsell. I'm not out here to be fooled with.... My God!" Almost at their side the periscope of a submarine had suddenly appeared. Slowly it rose to the surface.
Either of you answer to that name, by chance?" The elder of the two shook his head. "My name's Matthew Nichols," he announced, "and this is my brother-in-law, Joe Lethbridge. We've both of us got stout sailing craft and all the recommendations a man need have. As for Job Rowsell, well, he ain't here not just at this moment, so to speak." Granet considered the matter briefly.
Matthew Nichols removed his pipe from his mouth and spat upon the ground thoughtfully. "I doubt whether you'll get Job Rowsell to shift before mid-day. I'm none so sure he'll go out at all with this nor-wester blowing." "What's the matter with him?" Granet asked. "Is he lazy?" The man who as yet had scarcely spoken, swung round on his heel. "He's no lazy, sir," he said. "That's not the right word.
There was a great indenture in the rocks up which the sea came hissing; to the left, round the corner, the lighthouse. Granet drew what looked to be a large pocket-handkerchief from the inner pocket of his coat, pulled down their pennant with nimble fingers, tied on another and hauled it up. Job Rowsell stared at him. "What's that?" "It's the German flag, you fool," Granet answered.
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