"Oh, yes, there will. _I'll_ hold 'em," said Stump. "And you approve of my reticence thus far?" asked the Baron. "Of your wot, mister?" "I mean, that it was wise not to tell them the object of the voyage." "Take my advice an' tell 'em nothin'. Wait till they're frizzlin' in the Red Sea, an' I've worked some of the grease out of 'em. By that time, wot between prickly heat an' high livin', they'll be ready to kill any Gord's quantity of I-talians." "Italians!" snapped von Kerber irritably, "Why do you speak of Italians?" "It's your fairy-tale, mister, not mine. You said that wot's 'is name, the Roman who went through the Shebeens, had planted his takin's in I-talian territory." "Ah!" The Austrian gasped a little, and his pallor increased. "That is of no consequence--the place--is a desert--we shall meet with no interference." Then Royson spoke. Hitherto, he had taken no share in the conversation, but he saw that von. Kerber was unable to withstand any further strain. The man was bearing up gallantly, yet he had reached the limit of endurance, and the trouble, whatever it was, seemed to be wearing his very soul. "Neither Captain Stump nor Mr. Tagg knows that you are wounded, sir," said Dick. "Perhaps it would, be advisable to defer our talk until the morning." Von Kerber shaded his face with his hands. "I cannot add much to what I have said already," he answered. "I think you understand me, I want silence--and good service. Give me these and I shall repay you tenfold." They went on deck. Stump dug Royson in the ribs. "It would ha' done me a treat to see you upper cut that Frog," he whispered, his mouth widening in a grin. "I'm good at a straight punch myself, but I'm too short for a swing. Lord love a duck, I wish I'd bin there." So the burly skipper of the _Aphrodite_ paid slight heed to the wonders half revealed by von Kerber's story. He had been stirred but for a moment when the project was laid bare. Already his mind was rejecting it. The only matter that concerned him was to bring his ship to her destination in a seaman-like manner, and let who would perplex their brains with fantasy. Indeed, he was beginning to regard the Baron as a harmless lunatic, whom Providence had entrusted with the spending of a rich man's money for the special benefit of the seafaring community. "A straight punch!" he repeated, gazing with a species of solemn joy at the men leaning against the rails forward. "They're a hard-bitten lot from wot I've seen of 'em, an' they'll have to have it before they're at sea with me very long. Won't they, Tagg?" "They will," said. Tagg, eying the unconscious watch with equal fixity.