“Wal,” said Captain Corbet, “there air severial reasons why: fust an furmost, because, ef I sail west, I’ll have to coast along this here shore, which is the very thing I don’t want to do. I want to get as far away as I kin, an as quick as I kin. Second, I don’t want to go in the dark no longer. I want to sight the Nova Scotia coast, and then to keep it in sight till I die. Never agin do I want to git out o’ sight o’ Nova Scotia. Then, third, I don’t want to stop at no more places, but to contennew along my windin way, till I git to Minas. An, fourthly, I don’t want to go to Mahone Bay at all.” “Not go to Mahone Bay!” cried Bruce. “Why not? Why, we want to hunt up that island that the buccaneers buried the treasure in.” Captain Corbet looked at all the boys with an expression of solemn regret, mingled with mild reproach upon his venerable face. Then shaking his head mournfully, he slowly ejaculated,-- “O, boys, boys!” “Well, why not?” asked Tom. “O, boys! O, boys!” continued the captain, in a dismal tone. “An has it come to this? Air this the end an the melankilly result of the bitter teachins that you’ve ben an had by sea an land?” “Bitter teachings?” said Bart; “what bitter teachings?” “The teachins, an the warnins, an the experiences,” said Captain Corbet, “that’s ben a heaped upon you’s all. Why this thirst for perishable treasures? Why this yearnin for money-holes? Hain’t you had enough of treasures, and dreams of wealth? Look aime, boys. Behold this wretched victuim of Avarice. Think how the demon of Avarice got possession of me in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, an drawed me away captive to his chariot wheels. Think how he tempted me to desert you, an leave you in tremenjous danger. Bar all this in mind, I humbly beg, and then desist. Say no more. Temp me not. Leave the aged Corbet be. Don’t inflame this beaten heart. Be wise in time. You’ll only suffer for it ef you don’t. That thar treasure is onhallowed. Didn’t we try diggin for buried treasures once afore? Answer me that. We did. An what was the result? I pause for a reply.” “O, but this is different,” said Bart. “That money-hole on the hill was all nonsense; and, besides, what was it then frightened us, except a miserable little donkey? This is a different matter. There ought to be something there, out of all the plunder of the Spanish Main. “Don’t talk about plunder, and the Spanish Main,” said the captain. “The way that that governor had of rollin out them words of his was somethin that made a man feel a tinglin all over. It’s the thirst for gold, boys; don’t kindle it up to a flame; don’t temp me agin my better natur: don’t, don’t.” “O, see here now, captain,” said Bart; “don’t look at things in that way. When you left us on the ship, it wasn’t Avarice; it was because you hadn’t any idea that we were in danger.” Captain Corbet shook his head. “No,” said he,