“Nein,” replied the other frankly, “nevaire!”
“What! d’ye mean ter say ez how ye hed no kinder sort o’ curiosity like to find thet thaar cave, with the rest o’ thet gold an’ treasure what them old buccaneers stowed away so snug, ’specially arter seein’ it wer’ reel?”
“No, cap’en,” said Jan Steenbock firmly, as if he had previously well considered all the bearings of the case and arrived at his final decision. “I vas nevaire likes vor to zee dat blace nor ze golt again—no, nevaire!”
“But, why, mister?” asked the skipper, with insatiable curiosity, winking to the hands round, to call their attention to the fact that he was about to take a rise out of the simple-hearted Dane, and ‘trot him out,’ as it were, for their mutual amusement. “Why shouldn’t ye hanker arter seein’ the gold agen, mister? I guess ye didn’t hev too much on it afore; an’, I’m durned if ye hev got much of a pile now, ez fur ez I ken see!”
Jan Steenbock’s answer, however, completely staggered him, banishing all his merriment and facetiousness in an instant.
“It vas curst,” said the Dane solemnly. “Ze golt and ze islandt and everyting vas shtink mit ze black man’s bloot!”