“Those waters are but little navigated,” said I. “All the chances you name are against a vessel sighting your _Casada_ as she lies in her shell according to your description. I am of your opinion. The money is there and will remain there. The mere circumstances of those dollars having been a secret of the island for four years is warrant enough to satisfy any man that the island will continue to keep what is now your secret.” He looked extremely gratified, and continued: “How was I to proceed in the adventure that I was determined to embark on? I am a sailor, which means, of course, that I am a poor man.” “Just so,” said I. “My mother has been dead eight years. Of late I had seen and heard but little of my step-father. I was aware, however, that he was doing a very good trade as a merchant in Amsterdam. It occurred to me to propose the adventure to him, and when I had finished my business with the _Hero_ in the Thames I went across to Amsterdam, with the _Casada’s_ papers in my bag, and passed a week with Mynheer Bartholomew Tulp. I needed a week, and a week of seven long days, to bring the old man into my way of thinking. Tulp has Jewish blood in him, and the blood of the Jew is as thick as glue. A Tulp, four generations ago, married a Jewess. The descendants have ever since been marrying Christians, but it will take many generations to extinguish in the Tulps the Mosaic beak, the Aaronic eye, the Solomon leer, the Abrahamic wariness which entered into the Tulps, four generations ago, with honest Rachael Sweers. First Tulp wanted to know how I proposed to get the money. By hiring a small vessel and sailing to the island. How much was he to have? He must make his own terms. How much would I expect? I was in his hands. Supposing, when the money was on board, the crew rose and cut my throat? That was a peril of the sea. He could protect his outlay by insurance, the cost of which he was welcome to deduct from my share of the dollars should I bring the spoil home in safety. “He was so full of objections that on the morning of the sixth day of my stay at his house I flung from him in a rage. ‘I know what you _want_,’ I told him: ‘you want the silver and you don’t want to pay for it. I will see you----’ and I damned him in the names of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He is a little man: he arose from a velvet armchair, and following me on tiptoe as I was leaving the room, he put his hand upon my shoulder and said in a soft voice, ‘Michael, how much?’ To cut this long yarn short, he commissioned me to seek a vessel, and when I had found the sort of ship I wanted I was to enter into a calculation of the cost of the adventure and let him know the amount I should need within as few guilders as possible. That is the story.” “It is a very remarkable story. I am flattered by your confiding this secret to me.” “It was necessary,” he answered. I did not see _that_, but I let the remark pass. “Where did you meet with this brig?”