As soon as I realized this I sat up suddenly, while every one exclaimed at once, “There, she’s quite all right—­see how her color is coming back!”

People kept Aunt Jane from flinging herself upon me and soothed her into calm while I found out what had happened.  The penknife that I had lost in my struggle with Captain Magnus had fallen at the Scotchman’s feet.  Wrenching himself free of his all but severed bonds he had seized the knife, slashed through the rope that held him to the tree, and flung himself on Captain Magnus.  It was a brief struggle—­a fist neatly planted on the ruffian’s jaw had ended it, and the captain, half dazed from his potations, went down limply.

Meanwhile Cookie had appeared upon the scene flourishing a kitchen knife, though intending it for no more bloody purpose than the setting free of Cuthbert Vane.  Throughout the fray Chris slumbered undisturbed, and he and the unconscious Magnus were now reposing side by side, until they should awake to find themselves neatly trussed up with Cookie’s clothes-lines.

But my poor brave Crusoe dragged a broken leg, from a kick bestowed on him by Captain Magnus, at whom he had flown valiantly in my defense.

So far so good; we had signally defeated our two guards, and the camp was ours.  But what about the pirates who were still in the cave and would shortly be returning from it?  They were three armed and sturdy ruffians, not to include Mr. Tubbs, whose habits were strictly non-combative.  It would mean a battle to the death.

Our best hope would be to wait in ambush behind the trees of the clearing—­I mean for Dugald Shaw and Cuthbert Vane to do it—­and shoot down the unsuspecting pirates as they returned.  This desperate plan, which so unpleasantly resembled murder, cast gloom on every brow.

“It’s the women, lad,” said the Scotchman in a low voice to Cuthbert.  “It’s—­it’s Virginia.”  And Cuthbert heavily assented.

Seeing myself as the motif of such slaughter shocked my mind suddenly back to clearness.

“Oh,” I cried, “not that!  Why not surprise them in the cave, and make them stay there?  One man could guard the entrance easily—­and afterward we could build it up with logs or something.”

Everybody stared.

“A remarkably neat scheme,” said Mr. Shaw, “but impossible of application, I’m afraid, because none of us knows where to find the cave.”

I shook my head.

“I know!”

There was a lengthy silence.  People looked at one another, and their eyes said, This has been too much for her!

“I know,” I impatiently repeated.  “I can take you straight there.  I found the tombstone before Mr. Tubbs did, and the cave too.  Come, let’s not waste time.  We must hurry—­they’ll be getting back!”

Amazement, still more than half incredulous, surged round me.  Then Mr. Shaw said rapidly: 

“You’re right.  Of course, if you have found the cave, the best thing we can do is to keep them shut up in it.  But we must move fast—­perhaps we’re too late already.  If they have found the chest they may by now be starting for camp with the first load of doubloons.”