Читать книгу A Son of Ishmael. A Novel онлайн

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“Yes, and if you do,” said Scrivener, “you’ll be met on board and brought back; you know where. I do not think,” he continued, “that I need add any more.”

“I don’t think you need; we both understand the position,” said Rowton.

He sat down again and remained perfectly still, with his hands hanging between his great legs, his head slightly bent forward. There were lines of perplexity wrinkling his brow; but presently he looked up with a laugh, which showed the gleam of strong white teeth.

“You would suppress me if you could,” he said; “but it would take a stronger than you to do that. My day is only at noon; I wait for the black dog of care, I wait for the demon of misery until the night time. Now then, tell me, Scrivener, why it is you have altered your plans and come here at this hour; Samson and I did not expect you until nightfall.”

“I came to tell you,” said Scrivener, “that the goods which you expect will not arrive until to-morrow. We have had word at our head office that it is safer to keep them where they are for another twenty-four hours. I thought it best to call on purpose.”