uable secret regarding the
Pontiac for a percentage. That secret was that the treasure was never
taken by the mutineers out of the Pontiac! They were about to land and
bury it when we boarded them. They took advantage of their imprisonment
under hatches _to bury it in the ship_. They hid it in the hold so
securely and safely that it was never detected by us or the Callao
authorities. I was then asked, as one who knew the vessel, to undertake
a private examination of her, with a view of purchasing her from your
father without awakening his suspicions. I assented. You have my
confession now, Miss Nott. You know my crime. I am at your mercy."

Rosey's arm only tightened around his own. Her eyes sought his. "And
you didn't find anything?" she said.

The question sounded so oddly like Sleight's, that Renshaw returned a
little stiffly:

"I didn't look."

"Why?" asked Rosey simply.

"Because," stammered Renshaw, with an uneasy consciousness of having
exaggerated his sentiment, "it didn't seem honorable; it didn't seem
fair to you."

"Oh you silly! you might have looked and told _me_."

"But," said Renshaw, "do you think that would have been fair to
Sleight?"

"As fair to him as to us. For, don't you see, it wouldn't belong to any
of us. It would belong to the friends or the family of the man who lost
it."

"But there were no heirs," replied Renshaw. "That was proved by some
impostor who pretended to be his brother, and libelled the Pontiac at
Callao, but the courts decided he was a lunatic."

"Then it belongs to the poor pirates who risked their own lives for it,
rather than to Sleight, who did nothing." She was silent for a moment,
and then resumed with energy, "I believe he was at the bottom of that
attack last night."

"I have thought so too," said Renshaw.

"Then I must go back at once," she continued, impulsively. "Father must
not be left alone."

"Nor _must you_," said Renshaw, quickly. "Do let me return with you,
and share with you and your father the trouble I have brought upon you.
Do not," he added in a lower tone, "deprive me of the only chance of
expiating my offense, of making myself worthy your forgiveness."

"I am sure," said Rosey, lowering her lids and half withdrawing her
arm, "I am sure I have nothing to forgive. You did not believe the
treasure belonged to us any more than to anybody else, until you knew
_me_"--

"That is true," said the young man, attempting to take her hand.

"I mea