not recognize the justice of your standpoint in
this matter. I have done and am still prepared to do my best in
this business of the treasure. If Mr. Tubbs will not give his
information except for a bribe, I say--let him keep it. We are no
worse off without it than we were before, and you were then
confident of success. My intention, ma'am, is to hold you to our
original agreement. I shall continue the search for the treasure
on the same lines as at present."

"One moment," said Miss Browne haughtily. She had never spoken
otherwise than haughtily to Mr. Shaw since the episode of the Wise
Woman of Dumbiedykes. "One moment, Jane--and you, Mr. Tubbs--"

She drew them aside, and they moved off out of earshot, where they
stood with their backs to us and their heads together.

It was my opportunity. Violet herself had proposed that the
original agreement--the agreement which bound me to ask for no
share of the treasure--should be canceled. Nothing now was
necessary to the ripening of my hopes but to induce Dugald Shaw to
immolate himself. Would he do so--on my bare word? There was no
time to explain anything--he must trust me.

I sprang up and dashed over to the pair who stood looking gloomily
out to sea. They turned in surprise and stared down, the two big
men, into my flushed up-tilted face.

"Mr. Shaw," I whispered quickly, "you must do as Miss Browne
wishes." In my earnestness I laid a hand upon his arm. He
regarded me bewilderedly.

"You must--you must!" I urged. "You'll spoil everything if you
refuse!"

The surprise in his face yielded to a look composed of many
elements, but which was mainly hard and bitter.

"And still I shall refuse," he said sardonically.

"Oh, no, no," I implored, "you don't understand! I--oh, if you
would only believe that I am your friend!"

His face changed subtly. It was still questioning and guarded, but
with a softening in it, too.

"Why don't you believe it?" I whispered unsteadily. "Do you forget
that I owe you my life?"

And at the recollection of that day in the sea-cave the scarlet
burned in my cheeks and my head drooped. But I saw how the lines
about his mouth relaxed. "Surely you must know that I would repay
you if I could!" I hurried on. "And not by--treachery."

He laughed suddenly. "Treachery? No! I think you would always be
an open foe."

"Indeed I would!" I answered with a flash of wrath. Then, as I
remembered the need of haste, I spok