“Fielding,” he exclaimed, with cordiality strong in his voice, “it rejoices my heart when I reflect that I, whose life you saved, should, by a very miracle of chance, be the one man chosen, as it were, to substantially, and I may say handsomely, serve you.”
“I shall walk through my days blessing your name,” said I, grasping the hand he extended. “And how have you repaid me? You have not only preserved me from drowning, you make me easy for the rest of my time.”
“The accounts are squared to my taste,” said he. “I am very well satisfied. To-morrow I shall want you to take stock of the cases in the lazarette. You found them heavy?”
“All, sir.”
“And all are full, no doubt. But you shall make sure for me.”
“I shall want help,” said I. “Whom shall I choose among the crew?”
“It matters not,” he answered. “All hands know the money is there.”
“Yes; but it is an idea to them now. When they come to see the sparkle of the white dollars!”
“There is no good in distrusting them,” said he. “I am aware that your fears run that way. When we were outward bound your fears ran in another direction,” he added dryly. “Let me tell you this, whether we choose to trust the men or not, they’re aboard; they man the ship; they are the people who are to navigate her home. We must trust them,” he repeated with emphasis. “In fact,” he continued after a short pause, “I would set an example of good faith by letting them understand how entirely I trust them. Therefore, to-morrow, take Bol and two others of the men who were left aboard me when you went to the Casada, and examine the cases in their presence, you testing, they moving the boxes for you.”
I replied in the customary sea phrase; for this was a direct order, the wisdom of which it was no duty of mine to challenge. Shortly afterward he went below.