: and, I don't know why,"
wound up Miss Belcher, ingenuously, "but he seemed to divine from the
first that I was an Englishwoman."

"And it wasn't as if we had come here flaunting British colours,"
added Plinny.

"But what sort of man was he?" asked the Captain.

"Height, six foot two or three in his stockings; age, about sixty;
face, clean shaven and fleshy; the features extraordinarily powerful;
hair, jet black, and dyed (if at all) by a process that would make
his fortune if he sold the secret; clothes, black alpaca and well
cut, with silk stockings that would be cheap at two guineas, and
shoes with gold buckles on 'em. I couldn't take my eyes off--no
display about 'em--and yet I doubt if King Louis of France over wore
the like before they cut his head off. Complexion, pale for this
climate, with a sort of silvery shine about it. Manner charming,
voice charming, bearing fit for a grand seigneur; and that's what he
is, or something like it, unless, as I rather incline to suspect,
he's the biggest scoundrel unhung."

"Oh, Miss Belcher!" protested Plinny. "When you agreed with me that
he might have sat for a portrait of a gentleman of the old school!"

"Tut, my dear! When I saw that you had lost your heart to him as
soon as he set foot on deck! Did I say 'of the old school'?
Yes, indeed, and of the very oldest; and, in fact, quite possibly the
Old Gentleman himself."

Now, either I had spoiled Captain Branscome's temper for the day, or
something in this speech of Miss Belcher's especially rasped it.

"But who is this man?" he demanded, in a sharp, authoritative voice.

Miss Belcher stepped back half a pace. I saw her chin go up, and it
seemed to grow square as she answered him with a dangerous coldness.

"I beg your pardon. I thought I told you that he gave his name as
Dr. Beauregard."

"You had no business, ma'am, to allow him on board the ship."

"No business?"

"No business, ma'am. I have just been having words with young Harry,
here, over his disobedience this afternoon; but this is infinitely
more serious. We are here to search for treasure. We no sooner drop
anchor than a man visits us, who claims that the island is his.
This at once presupposes his claim upon any treasure that may be
hidden upon it, and consequently that, as soon as he discovers our
purpose, he will be our enemy. It follows, I should imagine, that of
all steps the most fatal was to admit him on board to discover our
we