any more about Trinidad?"

"Deal," said the skipper shortly, and he gave the fixed table a rap with
a roll of paper which he had brought down tucked under his arm. "Here's
the chart."

"Well?" said the doctor, wincing, as the skipper unrolled the map on the
dresser-like table, and catching up first one specimen bottle and then
another used them as paper-weights to keep the chart flat, while he
began to operate with his big rough, brown, index finger.

"Here y'are," he said, "and its character written about it: currents,
shoals, stormy seas, all kinds of dangers. Bad landing-place; very
rocky--place if you go to you ought to stop away."

"Sounds hopeful; eh, Pickle?"

"Oh, but curious, uncle. I should like to go."

"Well, then, you won't," said the skipper gruffly, "because your uncle's
too wise to tell me to risk the schooner in such a sea."

"Humph!" grunted the doctor.

"I'll obey your orders, sir, and sail anywhere," continued the skipper,
frowning very heavily, "but it's my duty to tell you when you are going
wrong."

"Of course," said the doctor, "and as you give the place such a bad
character, captain, we'll disappoint Rodd and stay away."

"Right," cried the skipper. Then after drawing a deep breath he looked
fiercely at Rodd, and then glared at the doctor, who opened his eyes a
little, wonderingly.

"Do you know where you are now?" said the skipper.

"Well, not exactly, only that we have been on ground rich in objects
such as I wish to collect, and--excuse me, captain--that bottle--your
elbow. I wouldn't have an accident to that for the world."

"Well, then," continued the skipper, very gruffly, as he dabbed his big
finger down in the middle of the chart, "you are here."

"Saint Helena," said Rodd, after a quick glance at the chart.

"Right," grunted the skipper. "Now, Dr Robson, am I to speak out, or
will you send young Mr Rodd here up on deck first?"

The doctor stared.

"I see no reason for sending my nephew away," he said coldly. "He and I
have the fullest confidence in one another."

Rodd, who was standing leaning over the map, moved very slightly, but
somehow his left hand stole on to his uncle's shoulder.

"Right, then," said the skipper harshly. "It is my duty, Dr Robson, to
tell you that you are in a false position."

"Then, Captain Chubb, as my navigator in whom I have the most perfect
trust, it is my duty to tell you that you ought to be on deck sailing us
out of it a