CHAPTER XV.

THE PATHFINDER'S HONOUR. Here might the author stop, and, in sooth, he was going to write the words "The End," glad that the episode of the pearl fisher had, at least, the happy _finis_ so desired by the novel reader; but my editor,[1] who was smoking a cigar at my elbow, in my sanctum, and who had been interested enough in what I was dashing off to follow the lines over my shoulder, checked my hand abruptly. "Here, here!" he cried, as "The End" was on the point of flowing from my pen. "Do you mean to tell us that …