ineer.

Holgate was aware that the treasure was gone, and he wished to jockey
us into a surrender. That was the gist of my interview, which I
hastened to communicate to my companions. Legrand and Barraclough
listened with varying faces. Expressions flitted over the former's as
shadows over a sea, but the baronet was still as rock, yes, and as
hard, it seemed to me.

"You people have all got a bee in your bonnet in respect of a
compromise," he said with a sneer. "You follow the Prince, and God
knows he's no judge. He's a fanatic. Hang it, Phillimore, haven't you
tumbled to that yet?"

He was a fanatic, it was true, but I did not like Barraclough's tone.
"Then you would trust the lives of this company, including the ladies,
to Holgate?" I asked sharply.

"With proper reservations and safeguards," he said.

I threw out my hands. "You talk of safeguards, and you're dealing with
a cut-throat. What safeguards could you have?"

"Well, we might stipulate for a surrender of all the firearms," said
Barraclough, knitting his brow.

"It wouldn't wash," said Legrand decidedly. "Do you think they'd give
up all they had? No, it would only be a pretence--a sham. I agree with
the doctor that Holgate's safety is only spelled out by our deaths.
There you have it in a nutshell. The man can't afford to let us go
free."

Barraclough assumed a mule-like look. "Very well," said he. "Then we're
wiped out as soon as he cares to move," and he turned away angrily.

An hour later I was passing the ladies' cabins when a door flew open,
and Mademoiselle jumped out on me in a state of agitation.

"What is this, doctor?" she cried. "This 'Olgate offers to put us on
shore safe, and you refuse--refuse to give him up the money. You must
not. You must bargain with him. Our lives depend on it. And you will
arrange that he leaves us sufficient to get to civilisation again."

"Mademoiselle," said I quietly, "I am not in authority here. It is the
Prince."

"The Prince, he is ill," she went on in her voluble French. "He is not
master of himself, as you well know. He is not to be trusted to make a
decision. Sir John shall do it. He is captain."

"It should be done with all my heart and now, Mademoiselle," I said,
"if we could put any reliance on the man's word. But how can we after
his acts, after this bloody mutiny?"

She clasped her hands together in terror. "Then we shall be doomed to
death, Monsieur. Ah, try, consent! Let us see what he wil