"I do not say so," added the host, in a half-satisfactory tone, "but to-day and to-morrow do not resemble each other, and what you bestow on me to-day you may rue to-morrow."
"That concerns no one but myself," exclaimed the sailor; "if I like to be generous, I have a right to be so. Yes or no—will you accept the money?"
"No, braggart, I do not need your money! The host of the Big Spider is richer than you!"
"Richer than I am? Who the dickens can say so?" ejaculated the sailor in a rage, and pulling out his purse and opening it he threw all its contents on the table. A heap of gold rolled on the oaken surface, and with loud shouting the guests around the table jumped up.
Only the landlord looked upon it indifferently.
"Englishman, you are a fool," he muttered half aloud; "you wish to be duped under all circumstances! Beware!"
"Shut up," shouted the sailor, and turning toward the rest, he said in a low voice:
"Do you know what the host has just whispered to me? He cautions me to be on my guard; he seemingly believes that you intend to murder me in order to get my money!"
A death-like silence followed these bold words, and the eyes of all present turned with unmistakable eagerness upon the heap of gold. Most of these miserable beings had already often bathed themselves knee-deep in blood; and therefore to commit murder was a bagatelle, as long as it brought profit.