The offer to sit down in front of a crock of beer and edify these wags is dangerously tempting. But the Charlestown waterfront is drawing near, the slaves already shortening their strokes; Minerva is fairly straining at her hawsers in eagerness to catch the tide, and he must have results. He'd rather get this done discreetly. But that is hopeless now that Ben has unmasked him. More important is to get it done quickly.