id by our party, and shall act justly. But what I do
not take away with me has no chance whatever of ever falling into the
proper hands."
But no matter how he might terminate such reflections, the captain always
blamed himself for allowing his mind to occupy itself with them. He had
fully decided that this treasure belonged to him, and there was no real
reason for his thinking of such things, except that he had no one to talk
to, and in such cases a man's thoughts are apt to run wild.
Often and often he wondered what the others were thinking about this
affair, and whether or not they would all be able to keep the secret
until he returned. He was somewhat afraid of Mrs. Cliff. He believed her
to be an honorable woman who would not break her word, but still he did
not know all her ideas in regard to her duty. She might think there was
some one to whom she ought to confide what had happened, and what was
expected to happen, and if she should do this, there was no reason why
he should not, some day, descry a ship in the offing with
treasure-hunters on board.
Ralph gave him no concern at all, except that he was young, and the
captain could foretell the weather much better than the probable actions
of a youth.
But these passing anxieties never amounted to suspicions. It was far
better to believe in Mrs. Cliff and Ralph, and he would do it; and every
time he thought of the two, he determined to believe in them. As to Edna,
there was no question about believing in her. He did so without
consideration for or against belief.
The captain did not like his solitary life. How happy he would have been
if they could all have remained here; if the guano could have been
brought without the crew of the schooner knowing that there were people
in the caves; if the negroes could have carried the bags of gold; if
every night, after having superintended their labors, he could have gone
back to the caves, which, with the comforts he could have brought from
Lima, would have made a very habitable home; if--But these were
reflections which were always doomed to banishment as soon as the captain
became aware of the enthralment of their charm, and sturdily onward,
endeavoring to fix his mind upon some better sailor's knot with which to
tie up his bundles, or to plant his feet where his tracks would soon be
obliterated by the incoming waves, the strong man trudged, bearing
bravely the burden of his golden hopes.
CHAPTER XXIII
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