It was an
ideal spot in which to lie--to quietly hide in during the hours of
daylight, probably never approached but by stray fishermen. Ashore
everything appeared primitive and uninhabited, except for one of the
_Sea Gull's_ small boats beached directly opposite, the crew hidden in
the brush.
I walked leisurely around the cabin transom, peering into the boat
swung astern, so as to better familiarize myself with its equipment,
meanwhile keeping a wary eye on the cabin below, where the negro was
clearing the table, and then, satisfied I had everything photographed
upon the mind, sauntered forward toward the bridge, aiming to exchange
greetings with the Creole mate. Broussard was not a man to expect
favors from, and I had hated him with the first glimpse of his face,
yet he possessed his racial characteristic of impulsive speech, and was
thus far more approachable than the gruff German first officer.
Perhaps, if he believed me an accomplice, he might be led to talk, and
even be induced to let drop some hint which would later prove useful.
I met him just forward of the chart-house, and the manner in which he
eyed me was immediate proof that he remained uninformed as to my new
status on board.
"How you com' on ze deck, M'sieur?" he asked, his eyes threatening.
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