"Coffee," said Mr. Spokesly, sitting at a table in front of a small
cafe. "What is it?"

"I was working on the boat this afternoon, after you had been there,"
said Mr. Cassar, "and I got that silencer pretty good now, and some
officers come up and say, this boat very good, we will want it. They
make inspection of harbour, you understand. I say, all right, what time?
They say to-morrow. The General he go round and make inspection. Want
all three motor boats. I say all right. But I was waiting to see you. If
I miss you I was going out to find you at your house. You understand?"

Mr. Spokesly nodded. He understood perfectly well. He reflected upon the
wisdom of staying away from the Consulate after saying he would go back.
He decided it would be better to return.

"You will have to get off," said Mr. Cassar in a matter-of-fact tone as
he looked away towards the mountains. "Don't you think so, Captain?"

"Plenty of time," Mr. Spokesly muttered, "before daylight. Are you sure
you are all right? Got everything?"

"Yes, everything," said Mr. Cassar positively.

"Right," said his commander. "Now you tell the customs guard I return to
Bairakli at midnight. You go with me to bring the boat back as they want
it in the morning. And if I don't come before one o'clock, you go alone.
I shall be going by road. Some of them asked me to go with them. You go
alone and wait for me at the bath-house jetty. Can you remember that?"

"Easy," said Mr. Cassar. "It is ten o'clock now."

"I'll go back," said Mr. Spokesly.

The evening was just beginning along the front as he passed once again
through the great Passage beneath the hotel. There was no young Jew
watching him now. That highly strung and bewildered creature was
hurrying through the lower town on his way to Bairakli, bearing
authentic news for his mistress. He had an uneasy suspicion that the
person described by his friend in the hotel would not prove so good a
friend as Mr. Spokesly. But he hurried on past the little Turkish shops,
his fez on the back of his head, the lamplight reflected on the bony
ridge of the large glistening nose that rose up between his scared pale
eyes and sallow cheeks. All along the lonely road beyond the railway
station he tripped and stumbled, muttering to himself: "Oh, Madama, he
is come, he is come! I bring great news. He is come!" Sometimes he
clasped his hands in an ecstasy of emotion and would almost fall into
some unnoticed slough or channe