He saw
clearly that a skilful seaman might achieve this thing with slight
danger to himself and his crew. And all this time the three thousand
pounds shone so lustrously that his moral vision was dazzled, and
the huge iniquity of the whole affair was rapidly vanishing from
sight.
When Mr. Ruin reentered, Anderson was looking ashamed and guilty.
"Well, Captain, can I help you to a conclusion?" came from the
oily lips.
"It's this way," replied the old man, turning round, but keeping
his eyes fixed on the carpet; "I can't do it. No, I can't."
Mr. Ruin eyed him dubiously, and rubbed his chin gently. "I'm
sorry--very, very sorry! Three thousand pounds won't go long begging,
though. And I shall have to accept your resignation, Captain."
Anderson only took up his hat and walked slowly out of the room.
He had not descended many steps when he turned back and reopened
the door.
"No, sir," he said; "it can't be done. I must think it over,
and--no--it can't be done." With that he went his way, miserable.
The same night he received a letter by post. It contained his old
commission, reinstating him in the command of the Chrysolite.
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