I pictured my comrade and myself going
overland, our swag on our backs, eluding pursuit ... and joining with
the natives in some far hinterland. I would be a sort of Jonathan Wilde
plus a Francois Villon.
Before the captain returned I had surveyed everything to my satisfaction
... after supper the captain and the two mates left for shore again.
Now was the time. I searched the captain's old trousers and found the
ship's keys there. They were too bulky to carry around with him.
The keys seemed to jangle like thunder as I tried them one after the
other on the drawer where I had seen him put away the gold.
I heard someone coming. I started to whistle noisily, and to polish the
captain's _carpet slippers!_ ... it was only someone walking on deck ...
The last key was, dramatically, the right one. The drawer opened ... but
it was empty! I had seen the captain--the captain had also seen me. Now
I started to take anything I could lay my hands on.
I snatched off the wall two silver-mounted cavalry pistols, a present
from his brother to Schantze. I added a bottle of kuemmel to the ham and
the rye bread. The kuemmel a present for Hoppner.
Then, before leaving the _Valkyrie_ forever, I sat down to think if
there were not something I might do to show my contempt for Miller.
There were many things I could do, I found.
In the first place, I took a large sail-needle and some heavy-thread and
I sewed two pairs of his trousers and two of his coats up the middle of
the legs and arms, so he couldn't put them on, at least right away.
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