to him; his cry, his eternal cry, is always of the People. He will
probably tear it up. The brig will never come again. So best. Death
will come soon. And I shall die unknown, unloved, forgotten. _Bonne
nuit_!"


Mr. Donovan alone remained in normal state of mind. 'Twas all
faradiddle, this talk of finding treasures. The old Frenchman had been
only half-baked. He dumped his tools into his bag, and, with the
wisdom of his kind, departed. There would be another job to-morrow,
putting the bricks back.

The others, however, were for the time but children, and like children
they all talked at once; and there was laughter and thumping of fists
and clapping of hands. The admiral had a new plan every five minutes.
He would do this, or he would do that; and Fitzgerald would shake his
head, or Breitmann would point out the feasibility of the plan. Above
all, he urged, there must be no publicity (with a flash toward
Fitzgerald); the world must know nothing till the treasure was in their
hands. Otherwise, there would surely be piracy on the high-seas. Two
million francs was a prize, even in these days. There were plenty of
men and plenty of tramp ships. Even when they found the gold, secrecy
would be best. There might be some difficulty with France. Close
lips, then, till they returned to America; after that Mr. Fitzgerald
would become famous as the teller of the exploit.

"I confess that, for all my excitement," said Fitzgerald, "I am
somewhat skeptical. Still, your suggestion, Mr. Breitmann, is good."

"Do you mean to say you doubt the existence of the treasure?" cried the