“Might jest as well turn a few honest dollars, Bob,” put in Speake, “as to be layin’ idle here, off Belize.”
“My idee, exactly,” said Clackett. “I know the cap’n would do it if he was able to hear the don’s proposition.”
“Why not?” said Dick, in a low tone.
Bob shook his head decidedly.
“I’d go in a minute if I had the right to do so,” said he, “but I haven’t. Suppose the Seminole should put into the harbor to-night with orders for the Grampus? You know what it would mean, Dick.”
Dick was silent, but not convinced. The men were disappointed, and watched the don as he shoved the gold coins back into the bag.
“I am sorry, too,” said he, tying up the bag, “and I feel, Bob Steele, that you are letting a lot of useless red tape interfere with your duties to humanity.”
“Perhaps, don, I merely understand my duty better than you do,” answered Bob, respectfully but firmly. “I haven’t any love for Pitou, or Fingal, or the rascally revolutionists, and I promise you this, that I will see Captain Nemo, junior, personally in the morning, and, if the doctor will let me, will put your proposition before him. If he agrees, we will start for the south at once.”
“That will be too late,” said the don, getting up and taking his bag of sovereigns. “I will bid you good evening, hail my boat, and go ashore,” he added stiffly.