The word was easy to say; the thing, at the first blush, was undiscoverable.  I was overwhelmed with miserable, womanish pity for my broken friend; his outcries grieved my spirit; I saw him then and now—­then, so invincible; now, brought so low—­and knew neither how to refuse, nor how to consent to his proposal.  The remembrance of my father, who had fallen in the same field unstained, the image of his monument incongruously rising, a fear of the law, a chill air that seemed to blow upon my fancy from the doors of prisons, and the imaginary clank of fetters, recalled me to a different resolve.  And then again, the wails of my sick partner intervened.  So I stood hesitating, and yet with a strong sense of capacity behind:  sure, if I could but choose my path, that I should walk in it with resolution.

Then I remembered that I had a friend on board, and stepped to the companion.

“Gentlemen,” said I, “only a few moments more:  but these, I regret to say, I must make more tedious still by removing your companion.  It is indispensable that I should have a word or two with Captain Nares.”

Both the smugglers were afoot at once, protesting.  The business, they declared, must be despatched at once; they had run risk enough, with a conscience; and they must either finish now, or go.

“The choice is yours, gentlemen,” said I, “and, I believe, the eagerness.  I am not yet sure that I have anything in your way; even if I have, there are a hundred things to be considered; and I assure you it is not at all my habit to do business with a pistol to my head.”

“That is all very proper, Mr. Dodd; there is no wish to coerce you, believe me,” said Fowler; “only, please consider our position.  It is really dangerous; we were not the only people to see your schooner off Waimanolo.”

“Mr. Fowler,” I replied, “I was not born yesterday.  Will you allow me to express an opinion, in which I may be quite wrong, but to which I am entirely wedded?  If the custom-house officers had been coming, they would have been here now.  In other words, somebody is working the oracle, and (for a good guess) his name is Fowler.”

Both men laughed loud and long; and being supplied with another bottle of Longhurst’s champagne, suffered the captain and myself to leave them without further word.

I gave Nares the correspondence, and he skimmed it through.

“Now, captain,” said I, “I want a fresh mind on this.  What does it mean?”

“It’s large enough text,” replied the captain.  “It means you’re to stake your pile on Speedy, hand him over all you can, and hold your tongue.  I almost wish you hadn’t shown it me,” he added wearily.  “What with the specie from the wreck and the opium money, it comes to a biggish deal.”

“That’s supposing that I do it?” said I.

“Exactly,” said he, “supposing you do it.”

“And there are pros and cons to that,” I observed.