, Adam--despite thy curst tongue."

"Death is an ill thing, Martin!"

"Is it?" says I, and laughed.

"Aye," he nodded, "an ill thing to him that hath ambitions above the
brute. See here!" Unbuttoning his doublet he showed me a shirt of
fine chain-mail beneath his linen. "'Twill turn any point ever forged
and stop a bullet handsomely, as I do know."

"Why, sure," says I, a little scornful, "you avowed yourself a cautious
man--"

"True, Martin, I have another shirt the like o' this for you. And as
for caution, I have need, d'ye see, comrade. The arrow that flieth by
day is an ill enough thing, but the knife that stabbeth i' the dark is
worse. This shirt hath turned death thrice already--once i' the breast
here and twice 'twixt the shoulders. I am a man marked for death,
Martin, murder creepeth at my heels, it hath dogged me overseas and
found me here in Kent at last, it seems. And, comrade, henceforth the
steel that smiteth me shall smite you also, belike."

"And why is your life sought thus?"

"By reason of a secret I bear about me; wherefore (saving only my good
friend Nicholas Frant who ... perished) I have ever been a solitary man
walking alone and distrustful of my fellows. For, Martin, I have here
the secret of a treasure that hath been the dream and hope of roving
adventurers along the Main this many a year--a treasure beyond price.
Men have sought it vainly, have striven and fought, suffered and died
for it, have endured plague, battle, shipwreck, famine, have died
screaming 'neath Indian tortures, languished in Spanish dungeon and
slaveship, and all for sake of Bartlemy's Treasure. And of all that
ever sought it, but one man hath ever seen this treasure, and I am that
man, Martin. And this treasure is so marvellous well hid that without
me it shall lie unfound till the trump of doom. But now, since we are
brethren and comrades, needs must I share with thee the treasure and
the secret of it."

"No, no, Adam!" says I. "Keep it to yourself, I'll none of it."

"Share and share!" says he. "'Tis the law of the Coast."

"None the less I want nought of it."

"'Tis the law," he repeated, "and moreover with such vast wealth a man
shall buy anything in this world--even vengeance, Martin. Look'ee now,
here's the secret of our treasure." Hereupon he thrust his hand into
his breast and drew out a small oilskin packet or bag, suspended about
his lean throat by a thin steel chain, and from this he drew