[Illustration:  “He ransacked an old lumber-room.”]

“Don’t you be in too much of a hurry to find that map, captain,” he said.

“It’s found,” said Miss Drewitt, with a little note of triumph in her voice.

“Found it this morning,” said Captain Bowers.  He crossed over to an oak bureau which stood in the corner by the fireplace, and taking a paper from a pigeon-hole slowly unfolded it and spread it on the table before the delighted Mr. Chalk.  Miss Drewitt and Edward Tredgold advanced to the table and eyed it curiously.

The map, which was drawn in lead-pencil, was on a piece of ruled paper, yellow with age and cracked in the folds.  The island was in shape a rough oval, the coast-line being broken by small bays and headlands.  Mr. Chalk eyed it with all the fervour usually bestowed on a holy relic, and, breathlessly reading off such terms as “Cape Silvio,” “Bowers Bay,” and “Mount Lonesome,” gazed with breathless interest at the discoverer.

“And is that the grave?” he inquired, in a trembling voice, pointing to a mark in the north-east corner.

The captain removed it with his finger-nail.  “No,” he said, briefly.  “For full details see the other side.”

For one moment Mr. Chalk hoped; then his face fell as Captain Bowers, displaying for a fraction of a second the writing on the other side, took up the map and, replacing it in the bureau, turned the key in the lock and with a low laugh resumed his seat.  Miss Drewitt, glancing over at Edward Tredgold, saw that he looked very thoughtful.

“You’ve lost your bet,” she said, pointedly.

“I know,” was the reply.

His gaiety had vanished and he looked so dejected that Miss Drewitt was reminded of the ruined gambler in a celebrated picture.  She tried to quiet her conscience by hoping that it would be a lesson to him.  As she watched, Mr. Tredgold dived into his left trouser-pocket and counted out some coins, mostly brown.  To these he added a few small pieces of silver gleaned from his waistcoat, and then after a few seconds’ moody thought found a few more in the other trouser-pocket.

“Eleven and tenpence,” he said, mechanically.

“Any time,” said Mr. Chalk, regarding him with awkward surprise.  “Any time.”

“Give him an I O U,” said Captain Bowers, fidgeting.

“Yes, any time,” repeated Mr. Chalk; “I’m in no hurry.”

“No; I’d sooner pay now and get it over,” said the other, still fumbling in his pockets.  “As Miss Drewitt says, people who make bets must be prepared to lose; I thought I had more than this.”

There was an embarrassing silence, during which Miss Drewitt, who had turned very red, felt strangely uncomfortable.  She felt more uncomfortable still when Mr. Tredgold, discovering a bank-note and a little collection of gold coins in another pocket, artlessly expressed his joy at the discovery.  The simple-minded captain and Mr. Chalk both experienced a sense of relief; Miss Drewitt sat and simmered in helpless indignation.