what he will have to do before I give up one of
my people," and fights the big frigate--fights it so fiercely that after
three hours Captain of King's frigate thinks it will be good to try
argument again, and sends therefore a further message, courteously
acknowledging Captain Ingerfield's courage and skill, and suggesting
that, he having done sufficient to vindicate his honour and renown, it
would be politic to now hand over the unimportant cause of contention,
and so escape with his treasure.

"Tell your Captain," shouts back this Ingerfield, who has discovered
there are sweeter things to fight for than even money, "that the _Wild
Goose_ has flown the seas with her belly full of treasure before now, and
will, if it be God's pleasure, so do again, but that master and man in
her sail together, fight together, and die together."

Whereupon King's frigate pounds away more vigorously than ever, and
succeeds eventually in carrying out her threat. Down goes the _Wild
Goose_, her last chase ended--down she goes with a plunge, spit foremost
with her colours flying; and down with her goes every man left standing
on her decks; and at the bottom of the Atlantic they lie to this day,
master and man side by side, keeping guard upon their treasure.

Which incident, and it is well authenticated, goes far to prove that the
Ingerfields, hard men and grasping men though they be--men caring more
for the getting of money than for the getting of love--loving more the
cold grip of gold than the grip of kith or kin, yet bear buried in their
hearts the seeds of a nobler manhood, for which, however, the barren soil
of their ambition affords scant nourishment.

The John Ingerfield of this story is a man very typical of his race. He
has discovered that the oil and tallow refining business, though not a
pleasant one, is an exceedingly lucrative one. These are the good days
when George the Third is king, and London is rapidly becoming a city of
bright night. Tallow and oil and all materials akin thereto are in ever-
growing request, and young John Ingerfield builds himself a large
refining house and warehouse in the growing suburb of Limehouse, which
lies between the teeming river and the quiet fields, gathers many people
round about him, puts his strong heart into his work, and prospers.

All the days of his youth he labours and garners, and lays out and
garners yet again. In early middle age he finds himself a wealthy man.
The chief bu