The captain laughed.
'I doubt,' he answered, 'if he is of the so sweet, so delighted, I am sure, type of men.'
'The scheme!' said the girl earnestly.
'Ada, I must tell you here now what I have sometimes told you before. I am poor—a poor sailor, a stone-broke seaman with a hatred of his calling. I have been dismissed from my ship for a theft, and I look upon myself as lost. No firms owning such vessels as my dignity would suffer me to command would employ me. I am utterly poor—and thirty, and must make my fortune by a coup or end my existence.'
'You need not talk like that.'
'The comfortable grave is better than destitution, better than the cold winter's night and the thrust of the night-watch.'
'Your scheme, dear!'
'You have heard me speak of the little vessel that is lying in the East India Docks. You also know that I have been engaged whilst here in adding to the crew I desire to collect for her.'
'You mean to go to sea in that ship?' she asked eagerly.
'Certainly, and shortly, and on what errand do you suppose, Ada? I mean to be a gentleman,' he continued, smiling with a rather hard expression, 'and I am determined to carry that calling handsomely. Now, listen, my love. Frequently from Lisbon and Cadiz the Spanish and Portuguese merchants are shipping heavy consignments in gold to the Spice and other Islands. I can ascertain the sailing of those ships, and gather their lading.'