“I’ll give you the same as Oakum,” said the Cuban eagerly.
“Same as him!” snarled Rasp, “and him a common sailor. How are you going to get your treasure. I won’t dive?”
“With this,” said Lauré, tapping his revolver.
“Not out o’ me, you can’t,” said the old fellow, giving a poke at an imaginary fire. “If I says as I won’t dive, pistols couldn’t make me—there.”
“We shall see about that,” said Lauré, sharply.
“There, I don’t want to fight,” said Rasp, to Mr Parkley’s great astonishment, for he had looked upon the old diver as truthfulness itself. “Here’s the plunder, and there’s no call to quarrel over it. I tell you what: say ten per cent, on all we get, and I’m your man.”
“Ten per cent!” exclaimed Lauré.
“Well, you’ll save by it,” said the old fellow. “Shan’t I work the harder, and get all the more?”
“There’s my hand upon it,” said the Cuban; and they shook hands, while Mr Parkley uttered a low groan, and Dutch’s eyes glittered with rage.
“That will do,” said the Cuban, who could ill conceal his triumph. “Now then, down below with you, captain, and you my clever adventurers. You have played with me, you see, and your cards are all trumped. Now, take my advice and wait patiently till you are wanted, for if you try any tricks against me, the stakes may mean your lives.”