on was sent to discover the
treasure which they were supposed to have buried, but in vain. About
two months ago Mr. Sleight told me one of his shipmates had sent him a
Lascar sailor who had to dispose of a valuable 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," said 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
ar