So saying, he led the way to the cabin, where my father was sitting brooding over the calamities of the day. Without speaking, my uncle handed him the packet of letters, which my father carelessly took, but before he had read the first two or three his face lighted up with animated interest. "What do you make of the business?" asked my uncle. "It seems a bit of a mystery?" "A mystery? My word!--the whole affair is as clear as daylight. An interested party, or parties, must have been trying to find out the destination of the 'Fortuna' in order to try, and cut her out, as it were. What surprises me is that a rival expedition has not appeared on the scene before now; but let them come," he added bitterly; "they are welcome to what's left." "Then you think the _Yachtsman's Fortnightly Journal_ is a myth!" "Undoubtedly. There never was such a periodical, and it is merely a blind. Dirham was a traitor, though perhaps he acted in ignorance of the jeopardy, in which he might have placed us, thinking that he was merely giving commonplace information to a yachting paper; and I am convinced that, judging by the orthographical and grammatical errors in these letters, the author is none other than your Brazilian friend, the fellow you shot when he broke into our house." "Your explanation seems plausible." "Nothing could be more simple. The Brazilian received the particulars of the position of the island from Dirham, who, judging by the postmarks and addresses on these envelopes, sent the information from Port Said or Suez. It was after we left Malta, you remember, that the latitude and longitude of the island became an open secret. No doubt the villain, who may be a man of wealth or at least of considerable means, knew far more about the treasure than we are aware. He might have wormed part of the secret from Ross Trevena or his son during their residence near Pernambuco. However, he receives the information, for, as you see here, he acknowledges the receipt of it, and I'll be greatly surprised if a private steam-yacht has not been chartered to try and carry off the treasure before we arrived at the island." "I should like to witness their disappointment," remarked my uncle. "It would not be greater than mine is," replied my father, relapsing into a depressed tone at the thought of our ill-fortune. "Two poor fellows have been sacrificed to the lust of gold, and the bulk of the treasure lies at the bottom of the sea." "You may recover it yet, 'sir," exclaimed the bos'n. "The divers are willing to make the attempt, and it may be that there is less water at the spot where the whaler sank than we know of."