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Duckett and a waterman were waiting for them at the stairs, and, barely giving them time to jump in, pushed off and pulled with rapid strokes to the schooner. Mr. Chalk's heart failed him as they drew near and he saw men moving rapidly about her deck. His last thoughts as he clambered over the side were of his wife. In blissful ignorance of his proceedings, Mrs.
"She'll be all right in time," repeated the captain; "and after all, you know," he added, with gentle severity, "you deserve to suffer a little. You had no business with that map." On a fine afternoon towards the end of the following month Captain Brisket and Mr. Duckett sat outside the Swan and Bottle Inn, Holemouth, a small port forty miles distant from Biddlecombe.
Duckett took the helm, and after a short pull along the edge of the reef discovered an opening which gave access to the smooth water inside. "A pretty spot, gentlemen," he said, scanning the island closely. "I don't think that there is anybody on it." "We'll go over it first and make sure," said Stobell, as the boat's nose ran into the beach. "Come along, Chalk."
There's a touch o' wildness in you, sir, that's always struggling to come to the front. Peter Duckett was saying the same thing only the other day. He's very uneasy about it." "Uneasy!" repeated Mr. Chalk. "Aye," said the captain, drawing a deep breath. "And if I tell you that I am too, it wouldn't be outside the truth." "But why?" inquired Mr.
"We've had a stroke of good luck, gentlemen," said Brisket, in a husky whisper, as they followed him up the steps. "See that man?" He pointed to a thin, dismal-looking man, standing a yard or two away, who was trying to appear unconscious of their scrutiny. "Peter Duckett," said Brisket, in the same satisfied whisper. Mr.
Duckett, said "Yes," and then at Captain Brisket's suggestion the party adjourned to the Jack Ashore, where in a little room upstairs, not much larger than the schooner's cabin, the preparations for the voyage were discussed in detail.
There was a wheel-about, and another peremptory inquiry, to which the sub, imitating his chief, replied with "Ask the attendant." At present boiling with rage, Balzac turned to the porter and thundered: "Is Duckett in?" "Monsieur Balzac," returned the attendant, "these gentlemen have forbidden me to tell you."
Chalk, thirsting for change, thought with wistful eagerness of the palm-girt islands of the Fijian Archipelago to which Captain Brisket had been bidden to steer. In the privacy of their own cabin the captain and Mr. Duckett discussed with great earnestness the nature of the secret which they felt certain was responsible for the voyage.
If Lady Caroline Duckett had hitherto given her hostess the impression of a person not easily silenced, this fact added sensibly to the effect produced by the intense stillness which now fell on her.
"I should like to send that Captain Bowers out searching for it," said Brisket, scowling, "and keep him out there till he finds it. It's all his fault. If it hadn't been for his cock-and-bull story we shouldn't ha' done what we did. Hanging's too good for him." "I suppose it's best for them not to know that there's no such island?" hazarded Mr. Duckett. "O' course," snapped his companion.
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