How I Heard Tell of Black Bartlemy's Treasure

"And what's this?" I demanded.

"Share and share, comrade!"

"But I'm no comrade o' yours till after to-night."

"Aha!" says he, pinching his long chin. "Is't more vengeance then?"

"Keep your money till it be earned!" I muttered.

"Sink me--and there's pride for ye!" says he. "Pride which is a vain thing and vengeance which is a vainer. Lord love me, shipmate, 'tis plain to see you're o' the quality, 'spite your rags--blue blood, high-breeding, noblesse oblige and all the rest on't."

"Stint your gab!" says I, scowling.

"'Tis writ large all over ye," he went on placidly enough. "As for me, I'm but a plain man wi' no time for vengeance and no whit o' pride about me anywhere. What I says to you is, get to wind'ard o' vengeance--nay, heave it overboard, shipmate, and you'll ride the easier, aye and sweeter, and seek something more useful--gold, for instance, 'tis a handy thing, I've heard say--so ha' done wi' vengeance!"

"No!" says I, frowning. "Not--nay, not for all Bartlemy's treasure!"

"Aha!" quoth he softly. "So you've heard tell of it then, along the Spanish Main?"

"I heard tell of it last night in a cave from a sailor-man."

"How?" says he starting and with keen eyes glancing hither and thither. "A sailor-man--hereabouts?"

"Damme!" says I, "the country seems thick o' sailor-men."

"Ha! D'ye say so? And what like was this one?"

"A comely rogue that sang strange song."