“Well, it is the queerest yarn I ever heard; but I dare say none the less true on that account,” said Captain Bigelow, when I had finished.  “With that sweet lady for your wife and your belt full of diamonds, you may esteem yourself one of the most fortunate of men.  And you did quite right to get away from that place.  But what was your point? where did you expect to get to with that sloop of yours?”

“Callao.”

“Callao!  Why the course you were on would never have taken you to Callao.  Callao lies nor’ by east, not nor’ by west.  If you had not fallen in with us, I am afraid you would never have got anywhere.”

“I am sure we should not.  Three days more and we should have died of thirst.”

“Where shall we put you ashore?”

“That is for you to say.  Where would it be convenient?”

“How would Panama suit you?”

“It is just the place.  We could cross the isthmus to Chagres; but before going to England, I should like to call at La Guayra, and find out whether my friend Carmen still lives.”

“You can do that easily; but if I were you, and had all those diamonds in my possession, I would get home as quickly as possible, and put them in a place of safety.  There are men who would commit a thousand murders for one of them.”

“Well, I shall see.  Perhaps I had better consign them to London through some merchant, and have them insured.”

“Perhaps you had, especially if you can get somebody to insure the insurer.  And take my advice, don’t tell a soul on board what you have told us.  My crew are passably honest, but if they knew how many diamonds you carried about you, I should be very sorry to go bail for them.”

As I went on deck after our talk, I was met by the surgeon.

“A word with you, Mr. Fortescue,” he said, gravely, taking me aside, “your wife—­”

“Yes, sir, what about my wife?” I asked, with a sudden sinking of the heart, for the man’s manner was even more portentous than his words.

“She is very ill.”

“She was very ill, and if we had remained longer on the sloop—­but now—­with nourishing food and your care, doctor, she will quickly regain her strength.  Indeed, she is better already.”

“For the moment.  But she is very much reduced and the symptoms are grave.  A recurrence of the fever—­”

“But such a fever is so easily cured.  I know what you are hinting at, doctor.  Yet I cannot think—­You will not let her die.  After surmounting so many dangers, and being so miraculously rescued, and with prospects so fair, it would be too cruel.”

“I will do my best, sir, you may be sure.  But I thought it my duty to prepare you for the worst.  The issue is with God.”

* * * * *