After that Remington became the chief questioner, Robert Turold merely looking on, his dark eyes frequently meeting Thalassa’s.  It seemed as though he must have realized that these last replies concealed a story better left unprobed.  But Remington wanted to know why Thalassa had come searching for diamonds in that part of the world when he knew of plenty in another, and Thalassa had replied, in all simplicity, that it was because the Almighty had endowed him with more muscles than brains, and he hadn’t recognized the worth of the stones at the time.  In fact, he didn’t know that they were diamonds.  His experience on the fields had improved his knowledge in that respect, and he now knew that he had left behind him on the lonely island enough diamonds in the rough to make them all rich—­two bottlesful, and some in a leather bag, where the dead man also kept one of those digging licenses which the damned German officials sold you—­what did they call it?  Prospector’s license—­a schurfschein? said Remington.  Yes, that was it.  He knew it again as soon as he got one on the fields.

Turold and Remington again talked together in whispers, and then Turold asked Thalassa how he proposed to get the diamonds.  Thalassa had his plan ready.  They must get down to the Cape and get a boat to Sydney from Capetown.  That was the jumping-off place.  From Sydney they were to take a boat to—­another place.  The island was a bare two days’ sail from the “other place,” and Thalassa proposed to hire a cutter on the mainland and sail over to it.  He was no navigator, but he could find his way back to that island again at any time.

Turold seemed inclined to agree, but Remington put in another of his sharp questions.  Why did he want to bring two strangers into the business?  What was to prevent him getting the diamonds on his own account, without sharing with anybody?  Thalassa replied that he had no money to finance the expedition, and even if he got the diamonds they’d be no use to him.  How could a rough seaman like himself, who could hardly write his own name, turn the stones into the large sum of money they represented?  That was an enterprise which called for civilized qualities of education and address which he did not possess.  From his standpoint it was an even deal between them.  They were to supply the money and intelligence in return for his knowledge, and they would share and share alike.

It was Robert Turold who ultimately settled the decision—­winning over the reluctant Remington with words which Thalassa had never forgotten.  He also recognized the risk, but he thought it was well worth taking.  It seemed that the two had a little more than L200 left between them—­just about enough to carry the thing through.  What was the use of returning to England with that paltry sum, he had asked.  He spoke of a girl—­some girl who was waiting in England for Remington while he made his fortune abroad.  Was he going to go back to her penniless?  “Even