ess of my
schemes."

"Such, for instance, as committing murder," I retorted. "All right.
But let me tell you that the hint--or threat, call it which you like--
will not influence me a hairbreadth, one way or the other."

"Very well, my dear boy," he returned; "be it so. At least we
thoroughly understand each other, don't we? And--don't be a fool!"

With which parting shot he left me, and, proceeding to the main deck,
entered into conversation with some of the emigrants who were leaning
over the bulwarks, idly watching the water as the ship drove slowly
through it.

"Don't be a fool!" It was excellent advice, although given by a man
whose folly I regarded as stupendous, and I determined to follow it.
Then I proceeded to reason out the matter with myself, for it was
evident that I should very soon have to come to a decision; and it
appeared to me that there was nothing to be gained by delay. In the
first place, I was compelled inwardly to admit that, intensely as I
disliked Wilde, and stupendous as I considered his folly, there was
sound sense in his suggestion that I should abandon the idea of throwing
away my life. But when it came to his insisting that, if I decided to
afford him that help, I must do so with no mental reservations, that was
altogether a different affair. He was compelling me to do something to
which I very strongly objected, leaving me no choice between that and
death; and since he had no scruples about employing all the power he
possessed to thus constrain me, I felt that I, too, must throw my
scruples overboard in my endeavour to defeat him. He had the power to
compel me to help him; and, that being the case, it seemed to me that it
would be sound policy on my part to afford that help with as good a
grace as I could muster; but, so far as "mental reservations" were
concerned, I resolved that if I could find means to make known what had
happened to the _Mercury_, and thus bring a British man-o'-war out to
rescue the ship and cargo from the scoundrel who was so determinedly
bent upon stealing them to carry out his own mad, visionary scheme, I
would do so, and risk the consequences.

CHAPTER FIVE.

A CONDITIONAL SURRENDER.

I had just definitely arrived at the above conclusion when the boatswain
joined me.

"I see Mr Wilde have been havin' another yarn with ye, Mr Troubridge,"
he remarked, as he seated himself at my side.

"Yes," I answered shortly.

"And is there any chance of