The intense and concentrated bitterness with which he uttered those last few words gave me courage; moreover, I felt certain that my companion would recognise the kindly feeling which actuated me, so without more ado I proceeded:
“What I wish to say is this. You have somehow contrived to convey to my mind the impression that you are a very deeply injured man, that you have been driven to the adoption of your present mode of life by some great and terrible wrong; moreover, you have been kind to Lotta, and especially kind to me; and, lastly, your references to your former friendship with my mother have been such that it has been impossible for me to avoid feeling very deeply interested in you. Now, why should you not abandon your present mode of life? You say that you possess treasure which has come into your possession by perfectly honest means, and to which, to use your own words, you have as much right as anybody. Why not take that treasure then, and go away to some part of the world where you are not known, and there begin life afresh?”
“Ah!” said Ricardo, “I have asked myself that question more than once without obtaining a satisfactory answer to it. I should like to do so, were it possible, for I am very heartily sick of the life that I am now leading. There was a time when, soured and embittered by as cruel a wrong as man could inflict upon his fellow man, I believed that I could find consolation, if not actual happiness, in the wreaking of my vengeance upon every Englishman whom I could get into my power, or whose wealth I could take from him by force; but that time has long passed, the revenge which I believed would be so sweet has turned to dust and ashes in my mouth, and now I am so weary of life that the bullet or steel that should rid me of it would be more welcome than any other earthly thing. When it is too late, I have begun to realise the full depth of my villainy, and to see what a contemptibly cowardly creature I have been in permitting myself to seek such an ignoble method of revenge as piracy. But, as I said, it is now too late, yes, too late—”
“Surely not,” I broke in. “Have you forgotten the homely old adage that ‘It’s never too late to mend’? What you have done can never be undone, it is true, but it can be repented of, and reparation can be made, if not directly to the persons injured, yet by doing good to others where you have the opportunity. Will you not think the matter over again, and this time with the determination to arrive at a right decision?”
“I will think it over, certainly,” he said. “As to arriving at ‘a right decision’, that is as may be. If I can see my way to such a decision it may be that I shall take it. I will consider the matter while I am at sea, and I promise you that no wrong shall be done during the progress of this cruise if I can possibly help it, and I think I can. For I always make a point of confining the navigation of the ship strictly to myself; nobody aboard ever knows where we are until I choose to tell them, and it will therefore be easy for me to take the brig to some spot where there is little or no chance of our falling in with other craft. Then, perhaps, if we can cruise for a month or six weeks without taking a prize, the men may be content to accept their share of the booty, and disband, especially as I should tell them that they may divide my own share between them. And now, good-bye, with many thanks for your sympathy!”
Chapter Eighteen.
The treasure cave.
When I awoke, rather late, the next morning, after a somewhat troubled and restless night, traceable, no doubt, to my long conversation with Ricardo, the Barracouta had vanished, and nothing remained to mark her late anchorage save the buoy to which she had been moored.