Don't cry cook till you have the venison home. What is
more, I gave my word to Gobal, and I will keep it. I will be captain.
No talking! When you've got the kegs in the cellar at Angel Point, good!
But now--come, my comrades, I am your captain!"
She was making the thing a cheerful adventure, and the men now swung the
kegs on their shoulders and carried them to the boat. In another half-
hour they were under way in the gaudy light of an orange sunrise, a
simmering wind from the sea lifting them up the river, and the grey-red
coast of Labrador shrinking sullenly back.
About this time, also, a Government cutter was putting out from under the
mountain-wall at Quebec, its officer in command having got renewed orders
from the Minister to bring in Tarboe the smuggler. And when Mr. Martin,
the inspector in command of the expedition, was ordered to take with him
Mr. Orvay Lafarge and five men, "effectively armed," it was supposed by
the romantic Minister that the matter was as good as done.
What Mr. Orvay Lafarge did when he got the word, was to go straight to
his hat-peg, then leave the office, walk to the little club where he
spent leisure hours, called office hours by people who wished to be
precise as well as suggestive,--sit down, and raise a glass to his lips.
After which he threw himself back in his chair and said: "Well, I'm
particularly damned!" A few hours later they were away on their doubtful
exploit.
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