He hesitated over an impulse to argue the moral aspect of Captain Dove's expressed intention regarding the helpless girl, but concluded to let that go, since the pecuniary side of it was so much more to the point. "I wonder you don't see," he went on patiently, "how much better it would pay you in the long run to marry her to me, and so be done with all your worries. I'm bound to make money. With her to help me I'd soon be breaking the bank.
"I'm not close-fisted, either; I'm willing to share the profits with you as long as you've any use for them." He held up a protesting hand as Captain Dove would have cut in, no doubt with some caustic sarcasm. "What I'm offering you isn't eighty-five thousand dollars, remember," he finished, "but a free income for life, that'll run into six figures a year—or I'll be vastly surprised at your simple tastes!"
"You'd be more surprised if I said 'done' to any such idiot's bargain," opined Captain Dove, and laughed like an old hyena. "And the sooner you set all such nonsensical projects aside, the better we'll get on together. My pretty white blackbird will never have to fret her heart out in any imitation-gilt cage. And more than that, I heard her tell you not so long ago—I suppose you forgot that the open port below you was just at my ear—that she'd far rather beg in the gutter than marry you!"
Slyne flushed darkly under his tan and darted an ugly glance at his grinning tormentor. He had always plumed himself on his way with women, and Captain Dove's chance shaft had sorely wounded his very sensitive self-esteem. But he still controlled his own barbed tongue and said nothing of the new card he had up his sleeve.
"So be it, then," he agreed, with a somewhat difficult smile. "I can't force you" ("you old fool!" he added mentally) "to take the chance of a lifetime when it's offered you. And, of course, what you've told me now makes all the difference. You've often given me to understand that Sallie's a somebody by rights. Now you say she's only a slave!"
Captain Dove cogitated deeply, and then drank again. The Olive Branch was moving smoothly along her course, leaving a heavy load of trouble always a little further astern. A pleasant sense of security and comfort had replaced the agonizing mental strain of the past few days. The wine he had been imbibing was buoying him up, and he was inclined to be garrulous.
"I've often told you she ought to be at least a lady of title in her own right," he remarked at length, "she's so damned high and mighty with me at times. But—who she really is—I've never told you that, have I, Slyne?"
Slyne shook his head, with assumed unconcern.
"I've never told you that—because I don't know," the old man chuckled explosively.
"I don't suppose it's ever struck you that it might pay you to find out?" Slyne inquired with sardonic gravity, and Captain Dove began to show signs of becoming restless again.