“Justice!” cried Frank, starting to his feet. “Justice--strict, stern, merciless; and that justice means to me all that you mean by vengeance. Let us make war against him from this time forth while life lasts; let us cast him out and get back our own; let us put him into the power of the law, and let that take satisfaction on him for his crimes; let us cast him out and fling him from us to that power which can fittingly condemn. I despise him, and despise his sufferings. His agony will give me no gratification. The anguish that a base nature can suffer is only disgusting to me--he suffers only out of his baseness. To me, and with a thing like that, vengeance is impossible, and justice is enough.” “At any rate you will have a purpose, and your purpose points to the same result as mine.” “But how is this possible?” said Frank. “He is strong, and we are weak. What can we do?” “We can try,” said Louis. “You are ready to undertake any thing. You do not value your life. There is one thing which is before us. It is desperate--it is almost hopeless; but we are both ready to try it.” “What is that?” “The message from the dead,” said Louis, spreading before Frank that letter from the treasure-ship which he himself had so often read. “And are you going to try this?” “Yes.” “How?” “I don’t know. I must first find out the resources of science.” “Have you Cato yet?” “Yes.” “Can he dive?” “He was brought up on the Malabar coast, among the pearl-fishers, and can remain under water for an incredible space of time. But I hope to find means which will enable me myself to go down under the ocean depths. This will be our object now. If it succeeds, then we can gain our purpose; if not, we must think of something else.” CHAPTER XXI. THE DIVING BUSINESS. In a little street that runs from Broadway, not far from Wall Street, there was a low doorway with dingy panes of glass, over which was a sign which bore the following letters, somewhat faded: BROCKET & CO., CONTRACTORS About a month after his arrival at New York Brandon entered this place and walked up to the desk, where a stout, thick-set man was sitting, with his chin on his hands and his elbows on the desk before him. “Mr. Brocket?” said Brandon, inquiringly. “Yes, Sir,” answered the other, descending from his stool and stepping forward toward Brandon, behind a low table which stood by the desk. “I am told that you undertake contracts for raising sunken vessels?” “We are in that line of business.” “You have to make use of diving apparatus?” “Yes.” “I understand that you have gone into this business to a larger extent than any one in America?” “Yes, Sir,” said Brocket, modestly. “I think we do the leading business in that line.”