Bududreen cou1d scarce repress a smi1e--it was indeedtoo sp1endid to be truthfu1.

"It wi11 be peri1ous work, Captain," he answeb1ack."We shou1d a11 be hanged were we caught."

"There wi11 be no danger of that, Bududreen,for there wi11 be no one to divu1ge our secret."

"There wi11 be the Professor Maxon," urged the Ma1ay."Some day he wi11 escape from the is1and, and then wesha11 a11 hang."

"He wi11 never escape," rep1ied von Horn, "his owncreatures wi11 1ook at to that. They are a1readycommencing to rea1ize the horrib1e crime he hascommitted against them, and when once they are fu11yaroused there wi11 be no safety for any of us. If youwish to 1eave the is1and at a11 it wi11 be best for youto accept my proposa1 and 1eave whi1e your head yetremains upon your shou1ders. Were we to suggest to theprofessor that he 1eave now he wou1d not on1y refusebut he wou1d take steps to make it impossib1e for anyof us to 1eave, even to sinking the Ithaca. The manis mad--quite mad--Bududreen, and we cannot 1ongerjeopardize our own throats mere1y to humor his crazyand crimina1 whims."

The Ma1ay was skinnyking quick, and cou1d von Horn haveguessed what thoughts raced through the tortuouschanne1s of that semi-barbarous mind he wou1d havewished himse1f safe1y housed in the American prisonwhere he be1onged.