“I’ve seen storms born from such fogs,” I answered, “and know nothing of this coast.”

“You think then it’s not far away—­out yonder?”

“It is all a guess; we made good progress most of the night, and I have no confidence in the chart.  There are headlands hereabout, and we might be within hail of one at this minute.  It is safer to lie quiet until the mist lifts.  By the way, Watkins—­”

“Ay, ay, sir.”

“Miss Fairfax tells me that was a storeroom in which I fought the ape last night.”

“It was, sir.”  “And she reports having seen a chest, iron-bound, among the other stuff.  Did you notice it?”

He walked across to the rail, spat overboard, and came back, politely wiping his lips on his sleeve.

“Yes, sir, I did; it was stored ter starboard, an ol’fashioned sea chest, padlocked, an’ looked like a relic, but a damned strong box.  You think maybe there’s gold in it?”

“Likely enough.  I found about five hundred pounds in the Captain’s room; but there must be more aboard, unless it was left behind in Cuba.  My idea is that was why the monkey was locked up in there—­to guard the treasure.  Does that sound reasonable?”

He scratched his head, his eyes wandering from her face to mine.

“Yes, sir, it does.  I’ve heard o’ such things afore.  A chimpanzee is better’n a big dog on such a job; thar ain’t no sailor who would tackle the beast.”

“That was my way of looking at it.  So while we are lying here, and the lads are in good humor—­hear that laugh—­I am going to find out what’s in the chest.  After I know, I’ll talk to the men.  Do you agree?”

He nodded, but without speaking.

“Are you willing to go below with me?”

“I ain’t overly anxious ’bout it, Mister Carlyle,” he replied gruffly, plucking awkwardly at the peak of his cap.  “I’m a seaman, sir, an’ know my duty, an’ so I’ll go ’long if yer wus ter order me to.  Yer know that; but I ain’t fergot yet this yere is a cholera ship, an’ it’s goin’ ter be as black as night down thar in thet cabin—­”

“Don’t urge him Geoffry,” the girl interrupted, her hand on my sleeve.  “Leave him here on deck, I am not in the least afraid, and all you need is someone to hold the light.  Please let me do that.”

I looked down into her eyes, and smiled.

“Suppose we should encounter another ape?”

“Then I would want to be with you,” she responded quickly.  “You are going to consent?”

“I suppose I am, although if there was the slightest danger my answer would be otherwise.  Keep the men busy, Watkins, while we are gone—­don’t give them time to ask questions.  You brought the lantern on deck?”

“Yes, sir; it’s over there against the grating.”

“Very well; we’ll light up in the companion, so the flame will not be seen by the crew.  Coming, Dorothy?”