nation. Then Stobell, who had
been looking about him, gave vent to an astonished grunt and pointed to a
boat drawn upon the beach nearly abreast of where their tent had been.

"Some of the crew have escaped ashore," said Mr. Chalk.

Striking inland, so as to get the shelter of the trees, they made their
way cautiously towards the boat. Colour was lent to Mr. Chalk's surmise
by the fact that it was fairly well laden with stores. As they got near
they saw a couple of small casks which he thought contained water, an
untidy pile of tinned provisions, and two or three bags of biscuit. The
closest search failed to reveal any signs of men, and plucking up courage
they walked boldly down to the boat and stood gazing stupidly at its
contents.

The firearms which Stobell had pitched out of the tent the night before
lay in the bottom, together with boxes of cartridges from the cabin, a
couple of axes, and a pile of clothing, from the top of which Mr.
Tredgold, with a sharp exclamation, snatched a somewhat torn coat and
waistcoat. From the former he drew out a bulky pocketbook, and, opening
it with trembling fingers, hastily inspected the contents.

"The map has gone!" he shouted.

The others stared at him.

"Brisket has gone off with the ship," he continued, with desperate
calmness. "It was the crew of our own schooner that frightened us off
last night."

Mr. Stobell, still staring in a stony fashion, nodded slowly; Mr. Chalk
after an effort found his voice.

"They've gone off with the treasure," he said, slowly.

"Also," continued Tredgold, "this is not Bowers's Island. I can see it
all now. They've only taken the map, and now they're off to the real
island to get the treasure. It's as clear as daylight."

"Broad daylight," said Stobell, huskily. "But how did they know?"

"Somebody has been talking," said Tredgold, in a hard voice. "Somebody
has been confiding in that honest, open-hearted sailor, Captain Brisket."

He turned as he spoke and gazed fixedly at the open-mouthed Chalk. In a
slower fashion, but with no less venom, Mr. Stobell also bent his regards
upon that amiable but erring man.

Mr. Chalk returned their gaze with something like defiance. Half an hour
before he had expected to have been killed and eaten. He had passed a
night of horror, expecting death every minute. Now he exulted in the
blue sky, the line of white breakers crashing on the reef, and the sea
sparkling in the sunshine; and