Quin and I went severally and withal carelessly aboard ship, and not
at all as though we were seeking Lorns. This was to darken the chief,
who was not in our secrets and whom we both surmised to be the cause
of Lorns' signal.
Once aboard, and gathered in a dark corner, Lorns began at once:
"Let me do the talking," said Lorns with a nervous rapidity that at
once enlisted the ears of Quin and myself. "Don't interrupt, but
listen. The chief suspects that last trunk. I can tell it by the way
he acts. A bit later, when I come ashore, he'll ask to have it
opened. Should he do so, we're gone; you and I." This last was to me.
Then to Quin: "Do you see that tall lean Swiss, with the long boots
and porcelain pipe? He's in an ugly mood, doesn't speak English, and
within one minute after you return to the wharf, he and I will be
entangled in a rough and tumble riot. I'll attend to that. The row
will be prodigious. The chief will be sent for to settle the war, and
when he leaves the wharf, Quin, don't wait; seize on that silk trunk
and throw it into the river. There's iron enough clamped about the
corners to sink it; besides, it's packed so tightly it's as heavy as
lead, and will go to the bottom like an anvil. Then from the pile pull
down some trunk similar to it in looks and stand it in its place.
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