The March wind died down during the night, so that, when the dawn came, the whole neighbourhood was enveloped in one of the many exhalations which are constantly arising from the Marshes hard by. And, all through the day, there was still an absence of breeze, so that the fog and mist remained hanging like a pall over the locality, and shrouding everything from observation which was more than a few yards distant.
"You see," said Granger, as now he and Bufton made their way on foot early, and not waiting for the afternoon--on foot, because thus attention would be less likely to be attracted--"how fortune favours us. A better day it would be impossible to desire. Until the victims are near at hand, close to where the boat will be alongside the shore, all will be invisible. Yet not that it matters much, for down where that will lie none ever come after dark, and not many by daylight."
They neared now an inn which, in the days of George II., and those of his successor--at this time so close at hand--stood in the Marshes. It was a low-roofed, one-storied place; whitewashed so that, it was said, vessels coming up the river might discern it as a landmark; and it was used for more than one nefarious practice. For smuggling purposes it was not particularly well adapted, since, by the time vessels had got so far up as to be off it in the river, they had little enough in them which had escaped the revenue officers; yet, even then, they occasionally had something to dispose of. Sometimes it was a small barrel of spirits inside a larger one, the space between the two being filled up with fresh water, whereby, if tapped, the latter fluid alone ran out, leaving that which was more valuable intact in its case; sometimes, too, bottles of cheap common wine on which a small duty had been paid, but which, below the first and second layers, contained things far more valuable and subject to a higher duty, such as Mechlin, Brussels, Valenciennes, and Chateau Thierry lace stuffed into them; and also other matters. There was not, however, as has been said, much to be done in this way, the place being so far inland and twenty miles from the sea as the crow flies, and it was more in the traffic of human beings than aught else that the landlord of the "Red Rover" made his money. For many a man had been taken off drunk from his house (who had come into it perfectly sober, and meaning only to have "one half-pint" before continuing his journey) to some ship lying hard by; many a girl and woman now slaving their hearts out in the colonies had been inveigled into the inn by pretended lovers and sold in the same way. Thus the landlord had done a roaring trade, and still did one--or would have done if men had been forthcoming--by supplying sailors to His Majesty's fleet; while, to add as well to his income, the fellow was under the rose a fence of the worst description, and over and over again the proceeds of successful housebreaking in the surrounding counties--proceeds such as silver salvers, coffee-pots, and antique tankards--had, after lying in his vaults or being buried in his fumier at the back of the house for some time, gone to grace the sideboards of Carolina or Virginia planters.
"Here," said Granger, "you can rest at your ease until night comes. The house is of none too good repute, yet 'twill serve your purpose. Also, the landlord is away. I protest we are a strange people in this England of ours! Vagabond as the man is, he is now serving on a jury at Chelmsford, where it should be strange if he does not help to try many of his own kidney. Strange, too, 'twill be if, some day, he is not tried himself."
"What will you do?" asked Bufton, when they had been shown into a private parlour, a fire had been lighted, and something brought to warm them, he ignoring Granger's description of the landlord's present occupation. "You must help me, you know; I rely on you."
"Have I ever failed?" Granger asked, with a fierce glance--a glance of assumed fierceness. "And--as to what I have to do! Why, man, countless things. First, to warn the master of the schooner that he must be ready to drop down the river at any time after six this evening. Next, to get the letter delivered, and also to see that the women set out. That is, unless now, even at the last, you resolve to spare them."
"Spare them!" repeated Bufton contemptuously, fiercely. "Let us not talk folly."
"So be it, since you are resolute. Well! I must away. Now, keep close and snug; but quit not this room. No questions will be asked: though, should any arise, you are a gentleman, a planter, taking passage to Delaware. That will suffice."
"You think of everything! Granger, at my mother's death you shall be paid in full----"
"No matter for that now. Evilly as you once treated me, I know that I shall be paid in full," the other said, hoping, even as he did so, that he had not emphasised his words too strongly.
"I will sleep, and eat, and drink," said Bufton; "thus the time will pass. And I did not sleep very well last night; to-night, when all is accomplished, I shall rest. I shall be content."
"Doubtless! I hope so." With which words Granger turned and left the other. Yet, as he reached the door he uttered another word or two--
"The master of the Nederland will expect that fifty guineas," he said, "if--if--Anne is--to--well! to fling herself overboard. You understand?"
"Ay, I understand. And I have them here," touching his breast pocket. "When will he desire to receive them?"
"As they go on board, as they are taken on board. To-night, when I return, hand them to me. Then, since you will scarce desire to appear too prominently, I will give them to the man in the boat."
"I have a vizard mask," whispered Bufton.
"So, too, have I. Yet I may not need it. Now, till to-night, farewell."
After which Granger went away, leaving Bufton to his reflections.
He went away, that is to say, so far as to descend the stairs with the intention of at once departing for Blackwall, there to have an interview with Anne. For, although the girl had told him that he must contrive to inveigle Bufton into the neighbourhood of where the schooner was lying without any assistance from her, he still hoped that such assistance might be obtained. Otherwise, he knew that Bufton would depart from the "Red Rover" by the time night had come, and the last chance would then indeed be gone. Nothing, he knew also, would have drawn the man to the Marshes but the hope of wreaking his vengeance on his wife and on--through Ariadne--Sir Geoffrey Barry.
Granger paused now, however, to take a glass of spirits before setting out to walk the two other miles of his journey, and, indeed, the atmosphere which prevailed outside would have justified any one on those Marshes in doing so, on such a day as this. For the raw, damp mist had by now turned int............