"Well," said Mr Parkley, "man's never satisfied. I was quite ready to get more. There, my lads, we'll clean up our apparatus." "Yes," said the captain, "and clear the decks; they want it badly enough. You've worked well, my lads, and you shall have a bit of a feast for this. 'Pollo shall prepare you a supper, and we'll drink success to our next venture." The men gave a bit of a cheer, but on the whole they looked rather disappointed, and Dutch, he hardly knew why, held his peace about the gold. One thing was evident: nothing could be done to get it on deck till the worn valve of the air-pump had been repaired, and this Rasp declared would take him all the afternoon, for he would have to apply new leathers and india-rubber. So the diving suits were hung up to dry, the helmets, polished dry and clean, and placed upon their stands. Mr Parkley and the doctor, who had looked upon this part as more in his province--Mr Parkley said because it helped to destroy life--had coiled up the wires, emptied the battery, and placed the dynamite in safety, and the rough shelly matter was thrown over the side, while Dutch, who had still kept his discovery to himself, was down below close to the end of the wind-sail--that canvas funnel that took down a constant current of fresh air--smoking a cigar with Mr Wilson, the naturalist, who was chatting away about his birds, and his determination to have another run or two on shore to shoot, asking his companion to accompany him. "It would do the ladies so much good, too, I'm sure," said Mr Wilson; "and really, Mr Pugh, I never dare speak to Miss Studwick now," he added with a sigh, "for if I do, her brother looks daggers at me, and if I mention Mrs Pugh, you look just as cross." Dutch had been saying "Yes" and "No" in amusing manner, hardly hearing what his companion said, but the mention of his wife's name made him start angrily round and glare at the speaker. "There, that's just how Mr Studwick, junior, looks at me," said the naturalist simply. "A regular jealous, fierce look. I wish you would not treat me so, Mr Pugh," he continued earnestly, and with a pleading look in his weak, lamblike face, "for I like you, I do, indeed. I always have liked you, Mr Pugh, and how you can fancy I have dishonourable ideas about Mrs Pugh I can't think. It shocks me, Mr Pugh, it does, indeed." "My dear fellow," said Dutch, smiling, half in amusement, half in contempt, "I never did think any such thing." "Then why do you look at me so?" continued Wilson, mildly. "You see," he said, with gathering enthusiasm, "I love Miss Studwick very dearly, but I seem to have no hope whatever. But why are you so angry?" "There, there, there, don't talk about it," said Dutch, shaking the naturalist's hand. "These are matters one don't like to talk about." "Yes, yes, of course," said Wilson, looking at him wistfully. "But you won't mention what I said."