pening that nobody could hope to fill so well as you. So we put it up
to you squarely: If you'll sign on and work with us, we'll turn over to
you a round fifth share of the profits of this voyage as well as
everything that comes after. That's fair enough, isn't it?"

"But more than fair, monsieur."

"Well, it's true you've done nothing to earn a fifth interest in the
first division..."

"Then, too, I am here, quite helpless in your hands."

"Oh, we don't look at it that way----"

"Which," Liane sweetly interrupted, "is the one rational gesture you
have yet offered in this conference, Monsieur Phinuit."

"Meaning, I suppose, Mr. Lanyard is far from being what he says,
helpless in our hands."

"Nor ever will be, my poor friend, while he breathes and thinks."

"But, Liane!" Lanyard deprecated, modestly casting down his eyes--"you
overwhelm me."

"I don't believe you," Liane retorted coolly.

For some moments Lanyard continued to stare reflectively at his feet.
Nothing whatever of his thought was to be gathered from his
countenance, though eyes more shrewd to read than those of Phinuit or
Monk were watching it intently.

"Well, Mr. Lanyard, what do you say?"

Lanyard lifted his meditative gaze to the face of Phinuit. "But surely
there is more...." he suggested in a puzzled way.

"More what?"

"I find something lacking.... You have shown me but one side of the
coin. What is the reverse? I appreciate the honour you do me, I
comprehend fully the strong inducements I am offered. But you have
neglected--an odd oversight on the part of the plain-spoken man you
profess to be--you have forgotten to name the penalty which would
attach to a possible refusal."

"I guess it's safe to leave that to your imagination."

"There would be a penalty, however?"

"Well, naturally, if you're not with us, you're against us. And to take
that stand would oblige us, as a simple matter of self-preservation, to
defend ourselves with every means at our command."

"Means which," Lanyard murmured, "you prefer not to name."

"Well, one doesn't like to be crude."

"I have my answer, monsieur--and many thanks. The parallel is
complete."

With a dim smile playing in his eyes and twitching at the corners of
his lips, Lanyard leaned back and studied the deck beams. Liane Delorme
sat up with a movement of sharp uneasiness.

"Of what, my friend, are you thinking?"

"I am marvelling at something everybody knows--that history does rep