Mr. Chalk started and, leaning over, whispered to Mr. Tredgold.

“No harm in it,” said the latter.  “Better leave it to me.  Shipping’s dull, then?” he inquired, turning to Captain Brisket.

“Dull?” was the reply.  “Dull ain’t no name for it.”

Mr. Tredgold played with a salt-spoon and frowned thoughtfully.

“We’ve been looking round for a ship this morning,” he said, slowly.

“As passengers?” inquired the captain, staring.

“As owners,” put in Mr. Chalk.

Captain Brisket, greatly interested, drew first his glass and then his chair a yard nearer.  “Do you mean that you want to buy one?” he inquired.

“Well, we might if we could get one cheap,” admitted Tredgold, cautiously.  “We had some sort of an idea of a cruise to the South Pacific; pleasure, with perhaps a little trading mixed up with it.  I suppose some of these old schooners can be picked up for the price of an old song?”

The captain, grating his chair along the floor, came nearer still; so near that Mr. Stobell instinctively put out his right elbow.

“You’ve met just the right man,” said Captain Brisket, with a boisterous laugh.  “I know a schooner, two hundred and forty tons, that is just the identical article you’re looking for, good as new and sound as a bell.  Are you going to sail her yourself?”

“No,” said Mr. Stobell, without looking up, “he ain’t.”

“Got a master?” demanded Captain Brisket, with growing excitement.  “Don’t tell me you’ve got a master.”

“Why not?” growled Mr. Stobell, who, having by this time arrived at the cheese, felt that he had more leisure for conversation.

“Because,” shouted the other, hitting the table a thump with his fist that upset half his whisky—­“because if you haven’t Bill Brisket’s your man.”

The three gentlemen received this startling intelligence with such a lack of enthusiasm that Captain Brisket was fain to cover what in any other man might have been regarded as confusion by ringing the bell for George and inquiring with great sternness of manner why he had not brought him a full glass.

“We can’t do things in five minutes,” said Mr. Tredgold, after a long and somewhat trying pause.  “First of all we’ve got to get a ship.”

“The craft you want is over the other side of the harbour waiting for you,” said the captain, confidently.  “We’ll ferry over now if you like, or, if you prefer to go by yourselves, do; Bill Brisket is not the man to stand in anyone’s way, whether he gets anything out of it or not.”

“Hold hard,” said Mr. Stobell, putting up his hand.

Captain Brisket regarded him with a beaming smile; Mr. Stobell’s two friends waited patiently.

“What ud a schooner like that fetch?” inquired Mr. Stobell.

“It all depends,” said Brisket.  “Of course, if I buy—­”

Mr. Stobell held up his hand again.  “All depends whether you buy it for us or sell it for the man it belongs to, I s’pose?” he said, slowly.