In spite of being short-handed, things began to go a bit better. There was very little wind, the sea was like glass, the sun was beautifully warm all day, and at night a warm and glowing sky was sown thickly with stars. Rather late one afternoon, while the Old Man was drinking his tea, Mr. MacFarlane appeared in the cabin with a look of importance, and reported land to starboard. "Nonsense, Mr. MacFarlane," said the Old Man. "We are a good nine days from anywhere." Mr. MacFarlane, however, maintained with polite firmness--land to starboard not being a theological matter--that land there was on the starboard bow, N. by NE. as well as he could reckon. "Nonsense, Mr. MacFarlane," said the Old Man. But he rose from his tea at once, took his binoculars and clambered on deck. A little while afterwards he returned in a state of odd excitement, accompanied by Mr. Thompson, and they spread out a chart on the cabin table. "By God," said the Old Man, "it's the Island of San Pedro." And he suddenly brought his fist down on the chart. Moreover, he pronounced the name with a curious intensity. "By God," he said, "I haven't seen that island for four and twenty years. We tried to dodge a typhoon, but was caught in her, and went aground on the Island of San Pedro. There was only me and the ship's bye as lived to tell the tale." The voice of the Old Man had grown hoarse, and in his eyes was a glow of dark excitement. Suddenly they met full and square the startled eyes of the boy who was listening eagerly. "Only me and the ship's bye," said the Old Man, his voice falling lower. "We lived six weeks on shellfish and the boots and clothes of the dead." The voice of the Old Man sank to a thrilling whisper. He then said sharply: "Bye, a bottle o' brandy." When Henry Harper brought the brandy his face was like a piece of white chalk. "Only me and the ship's bye," repeated the Old Man in a hoarse whisper. "The others went ravin' mad. We knifed 'em one by one; it was the kindest thing to do. The bye didn't go ravin' mad till afterwards. And there weren't no Board of Trade Inquiry." "No, sir," said Mr. Thompson, nodding his ugly head and speaking in a slow, inhuman voice. "No Board o' Trade inquiry," said the Old Man. "Nine men and the ship's bye on the Island o' San Pedro, latitude eighteen degrees, longitude one hundred and twenty-four degrees." He placed his finger on the chart on the cabin table. "There y'are, Mr. Thompson. And on'y me to tell the tale. The bye was gibbering like a baboon by the time he was fetched aboard the _Para Wanka_, Chinese barque out o' Honolulu. I was a bit touched meself. Thirteen weeks in 'orspital. Remarkable recovery. That's the knife on the sideboard in the leather case." Mr. Thompson took the knife in his hand reverently. "No Board o' Trade inquiry, sir," he said.