“It’s all about that island,” explained Mr. Chalk; “he can talk of nothing else.”

The captain suppressed a groan, and Mr. Tredgold endeavoured, but without success, to exchange smiles with Miss Drewitt.

“Aye, aye,” said the captain, desperately.

“He’s as eager as a child that’s going to its first pantomime,” continued Mr. Chalk.

Mr. Stobell’s appearance was so alarming that he broke off and eyed him with growing uneasiness.

“You were talking about a pantomime,” said Mr. Tredgold, after a long pause.

Mr. Chalk cast an imploring glance at Mr. Stobell to remind him of their compact, and resumed.

“Talks of nothing else,” he said, watching his friend,” and can’t sleep for thinking of it.”

“That’s bad,” said Mr. Tredgold, sympathetically.  “Has he tried shutting his eyes and counting sheep jumping over a stile?”

“No, he ain’t,” said Mr. Stobell, exploding suddenly, and turning a threatening glance on the speaker.  “And what’s more,” he added, in more ordinary tones, “he ain’t going to.”

“We—­we’ve been thinking of that trip again,” interposed Mr. Chalk, hurriedly.  “The more Stobell thinks of it the more he likes it.  You know what you said the last time we were here?”

The captain wrinkled his brows and looked at him inquiringly.

“Told us to go and find the island,"Mr. Chalk reminded him.  “You said, ‘I’ve shown you a map of the island; now go and find it.’”

“Oh, aye,” said the captain, with a laugh,” so I did.”

“Stobell was wondering,” continued Mr. Chalk,” whether you couldn’t give us just a little bit more of a hint, without breaking your word, of course.”

“I don’t see how it could be done,” replied the captain, pondering; “a promise is a promise.”

Mr. Chalk’s face fell.  He moved his chair aside mechanically to make room for Mr. Tasker, who had entered with a tray and glasses, and sat staring at the floor.  Then he raised his eyes and met a significant glance from Mr. Stobell.

“I suppose we may have another look at the map?” he said, softly; “just a glance to freshen our memories.”

The captain, who had drawn his chair to the table to preside over the tray, looked up impatiently.

“No,” he said, brusquely.

Mr. Chalk looked hurt.  “I’m very sorry,” he said, in surprise at the captain’s tone.  “You showed it to us the other day, and I didn’t think—­”

“The fact is,” said the captain, in a more gentle voice—­“the fact is, I can’t.”

“Can’t?” repeated the other.

“It is not very pleasant to keep on refusing friends,” said the captain, making amends for his harshness by pouring a serious overdose of whisky into Mr. Chalk’s glass,” and it’s only natural for you to be anxious about it, so I removed the temptation out of my way.”

“Removed the temptation?” repeated Mr. Chalk.