Even Captain Branscome, who might have helped me--
At this point a sudden thought fetched me up with a jerk. The enemy,
by pursuing after Captain Danny, had at least left me a clear coast.
I was safe for a while against his spying, and consequently the
embargo was off. I had no need to wait for morning. I could go
myself to the old man's lodgings, unlock the corner cupboard, and
bring away the roll of papers.
I dived my hand into my breech-pocket for the forgotten key. It was
small, and of a curious, intricate pattern. Almost before my fingers
closed upon it my mind was made up. Stimcoe's--that is, if I decided
to return to Stimcoe's--might wait. I might yet decide to break
ship--as Captain Danny would have put it--and make a push for home;
but that decision, too, must wait. Meanwhile, here was an urgent
errand, and a clear coast for it; here was occupation and
inexpressible relief. It's an ill wind that blows nobody some good.
I set off at a run. On my way I met and passed half a dozen gangs of
hilarious ex-prisoners and equally hilarious townsmen escorting them
to the waterside, where the coxswains of the transport's boats were
by this time blowing impatient calls on their whistles.
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