Her crew then lowered a little cockleshell of a dinghy, which she carried inboard, and a tanned, red-bearded man pulled straight for the Commodore's galley.
He bore a letter addressed to Captain Roderick Salt.

It was written in cipher, but read as follows: Dear S.,--Portland suspected you and had you followed.

I saw his eye upon you during your last interview with William.

It was clever to get through, nor can I discover how you managed it: for the account given by your pursuers is plainly absurd.

I've been turning over their cock-and-bull story, which finds credence here, and cannot fit it with the probabilities.