Cates—[Terrified.] Yes, sir. [He collapses limply on the sand again. Horne and the Kanaka relax hopelessly.]
Bartlett—[With heavy scorn.] Are ye a child to take on like a sick woman—cryin’ for what ye know we’ve not got? Can’t ye stand up under a little thirst like a man? [Resolutely.] There’ll be water enough—if ye’ll wait and keep a stiff upper lip on ye. We’ll all be picked up today. I’ll stake my word on it. This state o’ things can’t last. [His eyes fall on the chest.] Ye ought to be singin’ ’stead o’ cryin’—after the find we’ve made. What’s the lack of water amount to—when ye’ve gold before you? [With mad exultation.] Gold! Enough of it in your share alone to buy ye rum, and wine, and women, too, for the rest o’ your life!
Cates—[Straightening up to a sitting posture—his small eyes staring at the box fascinatedly—in a stupid mumble.] Aye—aye—rum and wine!
Bartlett—[Half closing his eyes as if the better to enjoy his vision.] Yes, rum and wine and women for you and Horne and Jimmy. No more hard work on the dirty sea for ye, bullies, but a full pay-day in your pockets to spend each day o’ the year. [The three strain their ears, listening eagerly. Even Butler and Abel advance a step or two toward him, as if they, too, were half hypnotized.] And Cates grumbling because he’s thirsty! I’d be the proper one to complain—if complainin’ there was to do! Ain’t I lost my ship and the work o’ two years with her? And what have ye lost, all three, but a few rags o’ clothes? [With savage emphasis.] I tell ye, I be glad the Triton went down! [He taps the box with his fingers.] They’s more in this than ever was earned by all the whalin’ ships afloat. They’s gold—heavy and solid—and diamonds and emeralds and rubies!—red and green, they be.
Cates—[Licking his lips.] Aye, I seen ’em there—and emeralds be green, I know, and sell for a ton of gold!
Bartlett—[As if he hadn’t heard and was dreaming out loud to himself.] Rum and wine for you three, and rest for me. Aye, I’ll rest to home ’til the day I die. Aye, woman, I be comin’ home now for good. Aye, Nat and Sue, your father be comin’ home for the rest o’ his life! No more stinkin’ blubber on the deck. I’ll give up whalin’ like ye’ve always been askin’ me, Sarah. Aye, I’ll go to meetin’ with ye on a Sunday like ye’ve always prayed I would. We’ll make the damn neighbors open their eyes, curse ’em! Carriages and silks for ye—they’ll be nothin’ too good—and for Sue and the boy. I’ve been dreamin’ o’ this in my sleep for years. I never give a damn ’bout the oil—that’s just trade—but I always hoped on some voyage I’d pick up ambergris—a whole lot of it—and that’s worth gold!
Horne—[His head bobbing up from his chest—drowsily.] Aye, ambergris! It’s costly truck.
Butler—[In a whisper to the boy—cautiously.] There! Wasn’t I right? Mad as hatters, all of ’em! Come on away!
Abel—[Staring at the Captain fascinatedly.] No. I wanter see ’em open it.
Butler—Look out! You’ll be going batty yourself, first thing you know. [But he also stays.]