“What size is she?”

“Well, big enough.  We don’t want her bigger.  A hundred and ninety, going two hundred,” replied the captain.  “She’s fully big for us three; it would be all the better if we had another hand, though it’s a pity too, when you can pick up natives for half nothing.  Then we must have a cook.  I can fix raw sailor-men, but there’s no going to sea with a new-chum cook.  I can lay hands on the man we want for that:  a Highway boy, an old shipmate of mine, of the name of Amalu.  Cooks first rate, and it’s always better to have a native; he aint fly, you can turn him to as you please, and he don’t know enough to stand out for his rights.”

From the moment that Captain Wicks joined in the conversation, Carthew recovered interest and confidence; the man (whatever he might have done) was plainly good-natured, and plainly capable; if he thought well of the enterprise, offered to contribute money, brought experience, and could thus solve at a word the problem of the trade, Carthew was content to go ahead.  As for Hadden, his cup was full; he and Bostock forgave each other in champagne; toast followed toast; it was proposed and carried amid acclamation to change the name of the schooner (when she should be bought) to the Currency Lass; and the Currency Lass Island Trading Company was practically founded before dusk.

Three days later, Carthew stood before the lawyer, still in his jean suit, received his hundred and fifty pounds, and proceeded rather timidly to ask for more indulgence.

“I have a chance to get on in the world,” he said.  “By to-morrow evening I expect to be part owner of a ship.”

“Dangerous property, Mr. Carthew,” said the lawyer.

“Not if the partners work her themselves and stand to go down along with her,” was the reply.

“I conceive it possible you might make something of it in that way,” returned the other.  “But are you a seaman?  I thought you had been in the diplomatic service.”

“I am an old yachtsman,” said Norris.  “And I must do the best I can.  A fellow can’t live in New South Wales upon diplomacy.  But the point I wish to prepare you for is this.  It will be impossible I should present myself here next quarter-day; we expect to make a six months’ cruise of it among the islands.”

“Sorry, Mr. Carthew:  I can’t hear of that,” replied the lawyer.

“I mean upon the same conditions as the last,” said Carthew.

“The conditions are exactly opposite,” said the lawyer.  “Last time I had reason to know you were in the colony; and even then I stretched a point.  This time, by your own confession, you are contemplating a breach of the agreement; and I give you warning if you carry it out and I receive proof of it (for I will agree to regard this conversation as confidential) I shall have no choice but to do my duty.  Be here on quarter-day, or your allowance ceases.”

“This is very hard and, I think, rather silly,” returned Carthew.