‘My sight ain’t what it used to be,’ he continued; ‘yet I can see enough of that there island’—and here he began to fumble with the chart he held—‘to guess that this here’s a first-rate likeness of it. This,’ said he, pointing with his square thumb at the mark in the middle of the lagoon on the parchment, ‘is one of the bearings we’ve got to have in mind to find out where we’re to begin to dig, ain’t it?’ ‘I believe so,’ said I. ‘Didn’t ye put down the particulars of the spot in writing?’ he inquired, looking up at me from the chart. ‘No,’ I answered shortly. ‘How many feet was the money hid away from the wash of the water?’ he demanded. ‘It was in paces, I remember,’ I returned, ‘but the figure is entirely gone out of my head. Wilkins should be able to recollect.’ He ran with a sort of dismay to the break of the poop and bawled for Wilkins. The lad came half-way up the steps. The carpenter spoke to him and then returned. ‘The young scowbanker don’t recall,’ he exclaimed. ‘He believes—a curse on his believes!—that the captain spoke of four hundred feet. Was that it, sir?’ ‘I remember enough to make sure that it was not four hundred feet,’ I answered. He picked up the glass and levelled it at the island. ‘Which of them clumps of trees was it that the capt’n talked to ye about?’ he asked whilst he looked. ‘He did not describe any particular clump. It was to be found by measuring so many paces from the edge of the water of the lagoon yonder, the pillar bearing something west, but what I can’t tell you. I treated the story as a madman’s dream, and dismissed all the particulars of it from my mind.’ ‘We’ll have to try all them clumps, then, that’s all,’ said he, with a hard face and a voice at once sharp and coarse with ill-subdued temper. ‘We’ll get the money, though it comes to having to dig up the whole island. And now, sir, there’s nothen to stop us—the boat’s ready—if you’ll be pleased to come along.’ ‘I can be of no good to you,’ I exclaimed with an involuntary recoil; ‘you have hands enough to dig. I’ll stop here.’ ‘No, if you please; we shall want you,’ he said, with a stare of dogged determination. ‘I must not be left alone, Mr. Lush,’ cried Miss Temple, with a painful expression of fear in her bloodless face. ‘If Mr. Dugdale goes, I must accompany him.’ ‘No, mem. You’re safe enough here. We must have Mr. Dugdale along with us to show us what to do. For Lord’s sake, no arguments, sir! The impatience of the men’ll be forcing them to taking you up in their arms and lifting you over the side, if you keep ’em waiting.’ ‘But am I to understand,’ I exclaimed, ‘that all hands of you intend to quit the ship, leaving this lady alone on board?’ ‘Joe Wetherly and Jim Simpson’ll remain,’ he replied; ‘they’ll keep a lookout, and two’s enough with us men in hail of their voices. Now, sir, if you please.’