other job we
ever turned our minds to."

"Perhaps not. At any rate let us think so."

A weariness with the monotony of life was reflected in the tone of this
qualified assent. It jarred on the nerves of the sanguine Ricardo.

"Let us think of the way to go to work," he retorted a little
impatiently. "He's a deep one. Just look at the way he treated that chum
of his. Did you ever hear of anything so low? And the artfulness of the
beast--the dirty, tame artfulness!"

"Don't you start moralizing, Martin," said Mr. Jones warningly. "As far
as I can make out the story that German hotel-keeper told you, it seems
to show a certain amount of character;--and independence from common
feelings which is not usual. It's very remarkable, if true."

"Ay, ay! Very remarkable. It's mighty low down, all the same," muttered,
Ricardo obstinately. "I must say I am glad to think he will be paid off
for it in a way that'll surprise him!"

The tip of his tongue appeared lively for an instant, as if trying for
the taste of that ferocious retribution on his compressed lips. For
Ricardo was sincere in his indignation before the elementary principle
of loyalty to a chum violated in cold blood, slowly, in a patient
duplicity of years. There are standards in villainy as in virtue, and
the act as he pictured it to himself acquired an additional horror
from the slow pace of that treachery so atrocious and so tame. But
he understood too the educated judgement of his governor, a gentleman
looking on all this with the privileged detachment of a cultivated mind,
of an elevated personality.

"Ay, he's deep--he's artful," he mumbled between his sharp teeth.

"Confound you!" Mr. Jones's calm whisper crept into his ear. "Come to
the point."

Obedient, the secretary shook off his thoughtfulness. There was a
similarity of mind between these two--one the outcast of his vices, the
other inspired by a spirit of scornful defiance, the aggressiveness of
a beast of prey looking upon all the tame creatures of the earth as its
natural victim. Both were astute enough, however, and both were aware
that they had plunged into this adventure without a sufficient scrutiny
of detail. The figure of a lonely man far from all assistance had
loomed up largely, fascinating and defenceless in the middle of the sea,
filling the whole field of their vision. There had not seemed to be any
need for thinking. As Schomberg had been saying: "Three to one."

But it did not loo