But the connection of the absurd Frenchman with the case, which at first seemed a characteristic imbecility of his landlord, bewildered him the more he thought of it.  Rejecting any hypothesis of the girl’s affection for the antiquated figure whose sanity was a question of public criticism, he was forced to the equally alarming theory that Ferrieres was cognizant of the treasure, and that his attentions to Rosey were to gain possession of it by marrying her.  Might she not be dazzled by a picture of this wealth?  Was it not possible that she was already in part possession of the secret, and her strange attraction to the ship, and what he had deemed her innocent craving for information concerning it, a consequence?  Why had he not thought of this before?  Perhaps she had detected his purpose from the first, and had deliberately checkmated him.  The thought did not increase his complacency as Nott softly returned: 

“It’s all right,” he began with a certain satisfaction in this rare opportunity for Machiavellian diplomacy, “it’s all fixed now.  Rosey tumbled to it at once, partiklerly when I said you was bound to go.  ‘But wot makes Mr. Renshaw go, father,’ sez she; ’wot makes everybody run away from the ship?’ sez she, rather peart-like and sassy for her.  ‘Mr. Renshaw hez contractin’ business,’ sez I; ’got a big thing up in Sacramento that’ll make his fortun’,’sez I—­for I wasn’t goin’ to give yer away, don’t ye see?’ He had some business to talk to you about the ship,’ sez she, lookin’ at me under the corner of her pocket-handkerchief.  ‘Lots o’ business,’ sez I.  ’Then I reckon he don’t care to hev me write to him,’ sez she.  ‘Not a bit,’ sez I; ’he wouldn’t answer ye if ye did.  Ye’ll never hear from that chap agin.’”

“But what the devil”—­interrupted the young man impetuously.

“Keep yer hair on!” remonstrated the old man with dark intelligence.  “Ef you’d seen the way she flounced into her state-room!—­she, Rosey, ez allus moves ez softly ez a spirit—­you’d hev wished I’d hev unloaded a little more.  No sir, gals is gals in some things all the time.”

Renshaw rose and paced the room rapidly.  “Perhaps I’d better speak to her again before she goes,” he said, impulsively.

“P’r’aps you’d better not,” replied the imperturbable Nott.

Irritated as he was, Renshaw could not avoid the reflection that the old man was right.  What, indeed, could he say to her with his present imperfect knowledge?  How could she write to him if that knowledge was correct?

“Ef,” said Nott, kindly, with a laying on of large benedictory and paternal hands, “ef ye’re willin’ to see Rosey agin, without speakin? to her, I reckon I ken fix it for yer.  I’m goin’ to take her down to the boat in half an hour.  Ef yer should happen—­mind, ef yer should happen to be down there, seein’ some friends off and sorter promenadin’ up and down the wharf like them high-toned chaps on Montgomery Street—­ye might ketch her eye unconscious