“My dear admiral,” and Fitzgerald laughed in that light-hearted way of his, “I would go into the heart of China on a treasure hunt, for the mere fun of it.  Enthusiasm?  Nothing would gratify me more than to strike a shovel into the spot where this treasure, this pot of gold, is supposed to lie.  It will be great sport; nothing like it.  I was merely supposing.  I have never heard of, or come into contact with, a man who has found a hidden treasure.  I am putting up these doubts because we are never sure of anything.  Why, Mr. Breitmann knows; isn’t it more fun to find a dollar in an old suit of clothes than to know you have ten in the suit you are wearing?  It’s not how much, it’s the finding that gives the pleasure.”

“That is true,” echoed Breitmann generously.  He fingered the papers with a touch that was almost a caress.  “A pity that you will go to the Arctic instead.”

“I am not quite sure that I shall go,” replied Fitzgerald.  That this man had deliberately lied to him rendered him indecisive.  For the present he could not do or say anything, but he had a great desire to be on hand to watch.

“You are not your father’s son if you refuse to go with us;” and the Admiral sent home this charge with fist against palm.

“‘Pieces of eight!  Pieces of eight!’” parroted the girl drolly.  “You will go, Mr. Fitzgerald.”

“Do you really want me to?” cleverly putting the decision with her.

“Yes.”  There was no coquetry in voice or eye.

“When do you expect to go?” Fitzgerald put this question to the admiral.

“As soon as we can coal up and provision.  Laura, I’ve just got to smoke.  Will you gentlemen join me?” The two young men declined.  “We can go straight to Funchal in the Madieras and re-coal.  With the club-ensign up nobody will be asking questions.  We can telegraph the Herald whenever we touch a port.  Just a pleasure-cruise.”  The admiral fingered the Legion of Honor.  “And here was Alladin’s Lamp hanging up in my chimney!” He broke in laughter.  “By cracky! that man Donovan knows his business.  He’s gone without putting back the bricks.  He has mulcted me for two days’ work.”

“But crossing in the yacht,” hesitated Fitzgerald.  He wished to sound this man Breitmann.  If he suggested obstacles and difficulties it would be a confirmation of the telegram and his own singular doubts.

“It is likely to be a rough passage,” said Breitmann experimentally.

“He doesn’t want me to go.”  Fitzgerald stroked his chin slyly.

“We have crossed the Atlantic twice in the yacht,” Laura affirmed with a bit of pride; “once in March too, and a heavy sea half the way.”

“Enter me as cabin-boy or supercargo,” said Fitzgerald.  “If you don’t you’ll find a stowaway before two days out.”

“That’s the spirit.”  The admiral drew strongly on his cigar.  He had really never been so excited since his first sea-engagement.  “And it comes in so pat, Laura.  We were going away in a month anyway.  Now we can notify the guests that we’ve cut down the time two weeks.  I tell you what it is, this will be the greatest cruise I ever laid a course to.”