ble, affably. "They're all one to me.
They're all damn nonsense."

He was, it seemed, that which is called in these days of blatant
patriotism a thorough Englishman, or a true Blue, according to the
social station of the speaker.

The gentleman to whom the translation had been addressed smiled. He was
a tall and rather distinguished-looking man, with bushy white hair and
mustache. His features were square-cut and strong. His eyes were dark,
and he had an easy smile. He led the way to some chairs which had been
placed near a table at the far end of the lawn beneath a cedar-tree, and
his manner had something faintly regal in it, as if in his daily life he
had always been looked up to and obeyed without question.

"Tell him that we also are plain men with clean hands," he said.

And the banker replied:

"Oui, mon Prince."

But the interpretation was taken out of his mouth by one of the others,
the youngest of the group--a merry-eyed youth, with a fluffy, fair
mustache and close-cropped, flaxen hair.

"My father," he said, in perfect English, "says that we also are plain
men, and that your hands will not be hurt by touching ours."

He held out his hand as he spoke, and refused to withdraw it until it
had been grasped, rather shame-facedly, by Captain Cable, who did not
like these effusive foreign ways, but, nevertheless, rather liked the
young man.

The banker ranged the chairs round the table, and the oddly assorted
group seated themselves. The man who had not yet spoken, and who sat
down last, was obviously a sailor. His face was burned a deep brown,
and was mostly hidden by a closely cut beard. He had the slow ways of a
Northerner, the abashed manner of a merchant skipper on shore. The mark
of the other element was so plainly written upon him that Captain Cable
looked at him hard and then nodded. Without being invited to do so they
sat next to each other at one side of the table, and faced the three
landsmen. Again Captain Cable spoke first.

"Provided it's nothing underhand," he said, "I'm ready and willing.
Or'nary risks of the sea, Queen's enemies, act o' God--them's my risks!
I am uninsured. Ship's my own. I don't mind explosives--"

"There are explosives," admitted the banker.

"Then they must be honest explosives, or they don't go below my hatches.
Explosives that's to blow a man up honest, before his face."

"There are cartridges," said the young man who had shaken hands.

"That'll do," said the m