Irrepressible, Liane’s laughter pealed; and though he couldn’t help smiling, Lanyard hastened to offer up himself on the altar of peace.

“But—­messieurs!—­you interest me so much.  Won’t you tell me quickly what possible value my poor talents can have found in your sight?”

“You tell him, Monk,” Phinuit said irreverently—­“I’m no tale-bearer.”

Monk elevated his eyebrows above recognition of the impertinence, and offered Lanyard a bow of formidable courtesy.

“They are such, monsieur,” he said with that deliberation which becomes a diplomatic personage—­“your talents are such that you can, if you will, become invaluable to us.”

Phinuit chuckled outright at Lanyard’s look of polite obtuseness.

“Never sail a straight course—­can you skipper?—­when you can get there by tacking.  Here:  I’m a plain-spoken guy, let me act as an interpreter.  Mr. Lanyard:  this giddy association of malefactors here present has the honour to invite you to become a full-fledged working member and stockholder of equal interest with the rest of us, participating in all benefits of the organization, including police protection.  And as added inducement we’re willing to waive initiation fee and dues.  Do I make myself clear?”

“But perfectly.”

“It’s like this:  I’ve told you how we came together, the five of us, including Jules and Monsieur le Comte de Lorgnes.  Now we expect this venture, our first, to pan out handsomely.  There’ll be a juicy melon cut when we get to New York.  There’s a lot more—­I think you understand—­than the Montalais plunder to whack up on.  We’ll make the average get-rich-quick scheme look like playing store in the back-yard with two pins the top price for anything on the shelves.  And there isn’t any sane reason why we need stop at that.  In fact, we don’t mean to.  The Sybarite will make more voyages, and if anything should happen to stop it, there are other means of making the U. S. Customs look foolish.  Each of us contributes valuable and essential services, mademoiselle, the skipper, my kid-brother, even I—­and I pull a strong oar with the New York Police Department into the bargain.  But there’s a vacancy in our ranks, the opening left by the death of de Lorgnes, an opening that nobody could hope to fill so well as you.  So we put it up to you squarely:  If you’ll sign on and work with us, we’ll turn over to you a round fifth share of the profits of this voyage as well as everything that comes after.  That’s fair enough, isn’t it?”

“But more than fair, monsieur.”

“Well, it’s true you’ve done nothing to earn a fifth interest in the first division...”

“Then, too, I am here, quite helpless in your hands.”

“Oh, we don’t look at it that way——­”

“Which,” Liane sweetly interrupted, “is the one rational gesture you have yet offered in this conference, Monsieur Phinuit.”

“Meaning, I suppose, Mr. Lanyard is far from being what he says, helpless in our hands.”