With this triumphant announcement Miss Higglesby-Browne sat down.  A heavy silence succeeded.  It was broken by a murmur from Mr. Tubbs.

“Wonderful—­that’s what I call wonderful!  Talk about the eloquence of the ancients—­I believe, by gum, this is on a par with Congressional oratory!”

“A vision, Miss Browne,” said Mr. Shaw gravely, “must be an interesting thing.  I have never seen one myself, having no talents that way, but in the little Scotch town of Dumbiedykes where I was born there was an old lady with a remarkable gift of the second sight.  Simple folk, not being acquainted with the proper terms to fit the case, called her the Wise Woman.  Well, one day my aunt had been to the neighboring town of Micklestane, five miles off, and on the way back to Dumbiedykes she lost her purse.  It had three sovereigns in it—­a great sum to my aunt.  In her trouble of mind she hurried to the Wise Woman—­a thing to make her pious father turn in his grave.  The Wise Woman—­gazed into the All, I suppose, and told my aunt not to fret herself, for she had had a vision of the purse and it lay somewhere on the food between Micklestane and Dumbiedykes.

“Now, Miss Browne, I’ll take the liberty of drawing a moral from this Story to fit the present instance:  where on the road between Micklestane and Dumbiedykes is the chest?”

Though startled at the audacity of Mr. Shaw, I was unprepared for the spasm of absolute fury that convulsed Miss Browne’s countenance.

“Mr. Shaw,” she thundered, “if you intend to draw a parallel between me and an ignorant Scotch peasant—!”

“Not at all,” said Mr. Shaw calmly, “forebye the Wise Woman was a most respectable person and had a grandson in the kirk.  The point is, can you indicate with any degree of exactness the whereabouts of the chest?  For there is a good deal of sand on the shores of this island.”

“Oh, but Mr. Shaw!” interposed Aunt Jane tremulously.  “In the sand—­why, I am sure that is such a helpful thought!  It shows quite plainly that the chest is not buried in—­in a rock, you know.”  She gave the effect of a person trying to deflect a thunderstorm with a palm-leaf fan.

“Dynamite—–­dynamite—­blow the lid off the island!” mumbled Captain Magnus.

“If any one has a definite plan to propose,” said Mr. Shaw, “I am very ready to consider it.  I have understood myself from the first to be acting under the directions of the ladies who planned this expedition.  As a mere matter of honesty to my employers, I should feel bound to spare no effort to find the treasure, even if my own interests were not so vitally concerned.  Considering its importance to myself, no one can well suppose that I am not doing all in my power to bring the chest to light.  Tomorrow, if the sea is favorable, it is my intention to set out in the boat to determine the character of such other caves as exist on the island.  I’ll want you with me, lad, and you too, Magnus.”