This last observation was not unnoticed by
the astute Nott, who at once conceiving that he was nourishing a secret
and hopeless passion for Rosey, began to consider whether it was not
his duty to warn the young man of her preoccupied affections. But Mr.
Renshaw's final disappearance obliged him to withhold his confidence
till morning.
This time Mr. Renshaw left the ship with the evident determination of
some settled purpose. He walked rapidly until he reached the
counting-house of Mr. Sleight, when he was at once shown into a private
office. In a few moments Mr. Sleight, a brusque but passionless man,
joined him.
"Well," said Sleight, closing the door carefully. "What news?"
"None," said Renshaw bluntly. "Look here, Sleight," he added, turning
to him suddenly. "Let me out of this game. I don't like it."
"Does that mean you've found nothing?" asked Sleight, sarcastically.
"It means that I haven't looked for anything, and that I don't intend
to without the full knowledge of that d--d fool who owns the ship."
"You've changed your mind since you wrote that letter," said Sleight
coolly, producing from a drawer the note already known to the reader.
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