"I'll never deny it was an element," said I. "I hope, I hope I'm not
cowardly; I hope I could steal for Jim myself; but when it comes to
dragging in you and Speedy, and this one and the other, why, Jim has got
to die, and there's an end. I'll try and work for him when I get to
'Frisco, I suppose; and I suppose I'll fail, and look on at his death,
and kick myself: it can't be helped--I'll fight it on this line."
"I don't say as you're wrong," replied Nares, "and I'll be hanged if I
know if you're right. It suits me, anyway. And look here--hadn't you
better just show our friends over the side?" he added; "no good of being
at the risk and worry of smuggling for the benefit of creditors."
"I don't think of the creditors," said I. "But I've kept this pair so
long I haven't got the brass to fire them now."
Indeed, I believe that was my only reason for entering upon a
transaction which was now outside my interest, but which (as it chanced)
repaid me fifty-fold in entertainment. Fowler and Sharpe were both
preternaturally sharp; they did me the honour in the beginning to
attribute to myself their proper vices, and before we were done had
grown to regard me with an esteem akin to worship. This proud position I
attained by no more recondite arts than telling the mere truth and
unaffectedly displaying my indifference to the result. I have doubtless
stated the essentials of all good diplomacy, which may be rather
regarded, therefore, as a grace of state than the effect of management.
For to tell the truth is not in itself diplomatic, and to have no care
for the result a thing involuntary. When I mentioned, for instance, that
I had but two hundred and forty pounds of drug, my smugglers exchanged
meaning glances, as who should say, "Here is a foeman worthy of our
steel!" But when I carelessly proposed thirty-five dollars a pound, as
an amendment to their offered twenty, and wound up with the remark: "The
whole thing is a matter of moonshine to me, gentlemen. Take it or want
it, and fill your glasses"--I had the indescribable gratification to see
Sharpe nudge Fowler warningly, and Fowler choke down the jovial
acceptance that stood ready on his lips, and lamely substitute a "No--no
more wine, please, Mr. Dodd!" Nor was this all: for when the affair was
settled at thirty dollars a pound--a shrewd stroke of business for my
creditors--and our friends had got on board their whaleboat and shoved
off, it appeared they were imperfectly acquainted with the conveyance of
sound upon still water, and I had the joy to overhear the following
testimonial:
"Deep man that Dodd," said Sharpe.
And the bass-toned Fowler echoed, "Damned if I understand his game."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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