course, the other saw larger, and, at time, equally respectable profits,
first in smuggling, and later in the African slave-trade. What harm
could he see in it? The whole people said it was vitally necessary, and
to minister to a vital public necessity,--good enough, certainly, and so
he laid up many a doubloon, that made him none the worse in the public
regard.

One day old Jean Marie was about to start upon a voyage that was to be
longer, much longer, than any that he had yet made. Jacques had begged
him hard for many days not to go, but he laughed him off, and finally
said, kissing him:

"_Adieu, 'tit frère_."

"No," said Jacques, "I shall go with you."

They left the old hulk of a house in the sole care of the African mute,
and went away to the Guinea coast together.

Two years after, old Poquelin came home without his vessel. He must have
arrived at his house by night. No one saw him come. No one saw "his
little brother;" rumor whispered that he, too, had returned, but he had
never been seen again.

A dark suspicion fell upon the old slave-trader. No matter that the few
kept the many reminded of the tenderness that had ever marked his
bearing to the missing man. The many shook their heads. "You know he has
a quick and fearful temper;" and "why does he cover his loss with
mystery?" "Grief would out with the truth."