“Yet, it seems to me,” said Sagesse, “that the conditions accompanying Monsieur Yves’ death make a difference. You killed this man, yet you wish to inherit his share. How about his relations?”
“How about the relations of Pedro, whom you killed?” asked Gaspard.
“Exactly,” replied Sagesse. “You have me there, it seems; you have me in a corner, it seems. I have only been twice before in my life held up by obstacles. Now, do you not think it is a dangerous game to play with me, cornering me like that?” Sagesse’s voice had a complaining tone, as though they were talking of some trifle.
“Oh,” said Gaspard, with a smile, “I am armed.” He tapped the pocket where the revolver was.
Sagesse’s face took on an expression of disgust, almost.
“Armed! Oh, you are only fit for the stokehold! Do you take me for a knifer or a Chinese hatchet man? Suppose I were to kill you to-night in your sleep, what would happen? Every man on board who knew of it would be my master. I don’t kill.”
He spoke the truth. Captain Sagesse, though he had killed Pedro accidentally, was no murderer. His art was quite beyond that rough method of settling disputes and gaining money.
“Well,” said Gaspard, “kill or not kill, I am not afraid. I am fighting for my rights.”
“And your rights you shall have.”
“You will give me the thirty per cent.?”