und between
us, not countin' truck worth p'r'aps another five."

"So far as _I_ am concerned, my man,"--Tresco used the unction of tone
and the dignity of manner that he loved so well--"I am but an agent. _I_
take nothing except a few letters, some of which I have not even
opened."

The Italian burst out laughing. "You ze boss? You conducta ze holy show,
eh? Alla right. But you take nuzzing. Rocka Codda an' Macaroni get ten
pound, fifteen pound; an' you get nuzzing."

"Information is what I get," said Tresco. "But, then, information is the
soul of business. Information is sometimes more valuable than a
gold-mine. Therefore, in getting, get information: it will help you to
untold wealth. My object, you see, is knowledge, for which I hunger
and thirst. I search for it by night as well as by day. Therefore,
gentlemen, before we quit the scene of our midnight labours, let us
drink to the acquisition of knowledge."

Rock Cod and Macaroni did not know what he meant, but they drank rum
from the pannikin with the greatest good-will. After which, Benjamin
scattered the embers of the fire, which quickly died out, and then the
three men shoved the boat off and pulled towards the lights of the
steamer.

On board the barque Captain Sartoris paced the poop-deck in solitude.
Bored to death with the monotony of life in quarantine, the smallest
event was to him a matter of interest. He had marked the fire on the
beach, and had even noticed the figures which had moved about it. How
many men there were he could not tell, but after the fire went out, and
a boat passed to starboard of the barque and made for the steamer which
lay outside her, he remarked to himself that it was very late at night
for a boat to be pulling from the shore. But at that moment a head was
put out of the companion, and a voice called him in pidgin English to go
down. He went below, and stood beside the sick captain, whose mind was
wandering, and whose spirit was restless in its lodging. He watched the
gasping form, and marked the nervous fingers as they clutched at the
counterpane as hour after hour went by, till just as the dawn was
breaking a quietness stole over the attenuated form, and with a slight
tremour the spirit broke from its imprisonment, and death lay before
Sartoris in the bunk. Then he went on deck, and breathed the pure air
of the morning.

CHAPTER XV.

Dealing Mostly with Money.

Pilot Summerhayes stood in his garden, with that l