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opens and shuts with a spring. It is an old sailor's tobacco-box. Take it out of your pocket, and throw it over to me." "Why, this is robbery." "You are at liberty to call the coast-guardman." And Clubin fixed his eye on Rantaine. "Stay, Mess Clubin," said Rantaine, making a slight forward movement, and holding out his open hand. The title "Mess" was a delicate flattery. "Stay where you are, Rantaine." "Mess Clubin, let us come to terms. I offer you half." Clubin crossed his arms, still showing the barrels of his revolver. "Rantaine, what do you take me for? I am an honest man." And he added after a pause: "I must have the whole." Rantaine muttered between his teeth, "This fellow's of a stern sort." The eye of Clubin lighted up, his voice became clear and sharp as steel. He cried: "I see that you are labouring under a mistake. Robbery is your name, not mine. My name is Restitution. Hark you, Rantaine. Ten years ago you left Guernsey one night, taking with you the cash-box of a certain partnership concern, containing fifty thousand francs which belonged to you, but forgetting to leave behind you fifty thousand francs which were the property of another. Those fifty thousand francs, the money of your partner, the excellent and worthy Mess Lethierry, make at present, at compound interest, calculated for ten years, eighty thousand six hundred and sixty-six francs. You went into a money-changer's yesterday. I'll give you his name--Rebuchet, in St. Vincent Street. You counted out to him seventy-six thousand francs in French bank-notes; in exchange for which he gave you three notes of the Bank of England for one thousand pounds sterling each, plus the exchange. You put these bank-notes in the iron tobacco-box, and the iron tobacco-box into your double fob on the right-hand side. On the part of Mess Lethierry, I shall be content with that. I start to-morrow for Guernsey, and intend to hand it to him. Rantaine, the three-master lying-to out yonder is the _Tamaulipas_. You have had your luggage put aboard there with the other things belonging to the crew. You want to leave France. You have your reasons. You are going to Arequipa. The boat is coming to fetch you. You are awaiting it. It is at hand. You can hear it. It depends on me whether you go or stay. No more words. Fling me the tobacco-box." Rantaine dipped his hand in the fob, drew out a little box, and threw it to Clubin. It was the iron to
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