“Paul,” I said, “have you no gratitude for the people who welcomed us and treated us so well? Do you not know what will happen to them if the Company hears of this place, and establishes a Factory here? Can you say that you have the heart to dream of such a plan?”
“Right well do I know what will happen, Diedrich; but it is a lot that must be theirs sooner or later; you yourself must confess that. Some discovery-ship will poke her nose into that bay some fine morning, and then the thing is done.”
“But don’t let yours be the hand to do it,” I replied.
“I am wearied here,” he answered, “and above all, it is so easy to get away; where those clumsy junks go, we can go, and what Master Francis Pelsart did in his boat, from where the Batavia’s bones lie, we can do easily from here in a better boat, which we will build.”
“I would sooner cut off my right hand than consent,” I replied. “These people have adopted us, and here I will live and die!”
“For the sake of a pretty savage!” sneered Paul.
Mad with sudden rage at this allusion to Azolta, I drew the short sword I now always wore, and was about to fall on Paul, who drew his and stood upon the defensive.
For a moment we faced each other, then Paul dropped the point of his weapon.
“Let us not quarrel, friend Diedrich,” he said; “we have been through too many perils together to try to slit each other’s
