"It is not," said the Student. "We know all about the Venetian ship. The crew were mostly knocked on the head, but the captain brought the doubloons ashore and hid them. He himself was saved by my ancestor for the time being, to whom he gave a map showing the place in the cave in which the treasure was hidden. He never came back for it. So far, everything proceeded on approved lines. Unhappily, my ancestor was a careless sort of person, and gambled the plan away. We never heard any more of it. It is, however, a family tradition that there was nothing on the plan to identify the cave; and as this coast, and the islands in the loch, are honeycombed with caves, it would be of little use if we had it. No one knows whereabouts the galleon went ashore. On calm nights her officers may be seen swimming round the cliffs, keeping guard still over their holy gold. Angus MacEachan saw one once, and tried to speak to him; but he turned into a seal, and just looked at Angus with large patient eyes; and Angus' boat was wrecked the week after." "And did you never search for the gold, daddy?" asked Fiona. "Never, my dear," he said. "In the first place, it would mean a minute examination of some 170 caves. In the second place, half of the caves are not mine. In the third place, it is not the kind of treasure I want. In the fourth place, I haven't time. In the fifth place, I am morally certain it is not there now. In the sixth place, the Government would claim it as treasure-trove. And in the seventh and last place, I never thought about it till you asked me." "I'm not getting any further with _my_ treasure hunting, daddy," said Fiona. "Let's go out together and start." "My dear," said the Student, "it's your search, not mine. It's no use my trying to come with you. And I have a fancy that it won't begin like that." "Can you tell me how to begin then, daddy?" she asked. "I suppose by taking no notice of it," he said. "It was to begin itself, wasn't it? And I have an uncomfortable suspicion that you hunt this kind of treasure by turning round and going the other way. So I think you'd better run out and find the Urchin, and I'll get back to my inscriptions." The Urchin was Fiona's principal ally; a troublesome ally, owing to his propensity for throwing stones. She found him now on the shore, steadily bombarding a shore lark, that would move a little way out of range and then sit down again, affording a splendid target. Luckily the enthusiasm of the persecutor in pursuit was well matched by the inaccuracy of his aim. "Urchin," she called out, "if you hurt that bird the Little People will take you; I thought I'd knocked that into you all right, even if you _are_ English and slow in the uptake." "All right," said the Urchin with a grin. "We conquered you, anyway." "As a matter of fact," said the girl, "it was we who annexed you. If your people were as bad shots as you, Urchin, it must have been quite easy. You can't hit a bird sitting."