One day it's better--one day it's worse." He began to walk the cabin, his step marvelously elastic and nervous for so aged a man.
"Is it not well, McTee?
Let her be at death's door! I shall come to her bedside with gold in either hand and raise her up to life! She shall owe everything to me! Will that not make her love me?
Will it ?" He grasped McTee's shoulder tightly.
"I'm not a pretty lad to look at, eh, lad ?" McTee poured himself a drink hastily, and drained the glass before he answered.
"A pretty man?
Nonsense, Henshaw! A little weather-beaten, but a tight craft at that; she'll worship the ground you walk! Character, Henshaw, that's what these new American girls want to see in a man!" Henshaw sighed with deep relief.
"Ah-h, McTee, you comfort me more than a drink on a stormy night! For reward, you shall see what I'm bringing back to her.

Come!" He rose and led McTee into his bedroom, for two cabins were retained for the captain's use.

Filling one corner of the room was a huge safe almost as tall as a man.
He squatted before the safe and commenced to work the combination with a swift sureness which told McTee at once that the old buccaneer came here many times a day to gloat over his treasure.

At length the door of the safe fell open.

Inside was a great mass of little canvas bags.
McTee was panting as if he had run a great distance at full speed.
"Take one." The Scotchman raised one of the bags and shook it.