"If you are determined to go, and Moreas is willing to give half of his share to you, I don't know that anything more need be said," observed the Englishman. "Personally, I think it's a pity to bring a fifth person in; but, as he says, it is his affair, not ours. I'll give you one piece of advice, however, if you are coming; don't try to play any tricks with us."
"Or with me," put in Moreas sulkily. "If you do, you'll find yourself in the wrong box. By the time I've paid all of you your shares there will be nothing left for myself. I only hope nothing will go wrong."
"It had better not," answered Max. "At least, so far as you are concerned. You know me, I think, and I know you."
Moreas instinctively thought of the game of cards they had played together on the Diamintina, and of the pistol practice that had followed it. Was Max's speech only a part of the game of bluff they were both playing, or was it really intended as a warning to himself? A look of real apprehension flashed across his face. The Englishman observed it, and, if he had entertained suspicions before as to their complicity in the affair, this effectually dispersed them. They thereupon proceeded to make the final arrangements for the journey. A rendezvous was agreed upon for the following morning, and, this done, Max rose to take his leave.
"Adeos, Señors," he said, bowing to them with graceful insolence. "I have the honour to bid you farewell until to-morrow."
Then he left the room and went downstairs. But he did not leave the neighbourhood. According to the plan they had arranged, he took up his position in a dark corner of the street until he had seen the others depart. Then he returned to the house and rejoined Moreas.
"You played your part extremely well," said the latter patronisingly. "It's a long time since I witnessed a prettier bit of acting than when you told me I had better see that nothing went wrong while we were away."
"Don't be too sure it was all acting," replied Max quietly. "You have brought me into it to look after your interests; but I fancy you'll agree with me that a man's first duty, in affairs like this at any rate, is to look after his own."
Moreas tried to laugh unconcernedly, but the result was a comparative failure.