“Not happiness, I verily believe,” said the Captain, “though to the poor—­and I speak as one who has been bitterly poor—­it may bring happiness for a while in the shape of relief from grinding discomfort.”

“Yes, yes; as pleasure lies in mere cessation from pain.  But that does not meet my question.  We will take Master Harry here, who seems a good, ordinary healthy boy.  We will suppose him in possession of the treasure you are here to seek.  What in the end can he purchase with it better than the fun he is getting out of this expedition?  He can indulge all his senses, but for a while only; in the end indulgence brings satiety, dulls the appetite, takes the savour from the feast, and so destroys itself.  He can purchase power, you say?  But that again moves one difficulty but a step further.  For what will his power give him when he has won it?  These are questions, Captain, which I have asked myself daily here on this island.  I have been asking them ever since, and while I was yet a young man they came to wear for me a personal application.  ’Vanity of vanities,’ Captain—­what the Preacher discovered long ago I discovered again and of my own experience.”

“The Christian religion, sir—­” began Captain Branscome.  But here our strange host laid a hand on his arm.

“We forget our politeness,” he interrupted, yet gently, and without suspicion of offence.  “We keep the ladies waiting.”

“Captain Branscome and I,” said our host, as he seated himself beside Miss Belcher, and uncorked one of the green-sealed bottles, “have been talking platitudes, to which, however, our present business lends a certain fresh interest.  You are here, many thousands of miles from home, on a hunt for treasure.  Now, Heaven forbid that I should criticise your intentions, seeing that incidentally I am in debt to them for this delightful picnic; but before I help you—­as, believe me, I am disposed to help—­may I ask what you propose to do with this wealth when you get it?”

“Why, sir,” answered Miss Belcher, candidly, “we discussed that, you may be sure, before starting.  The bulk of it, after paying expenses, was to go to young Brooks, here.  Circumstances had given him, as we supposed—­and for the matter of that, as we still believe—­the clue to the treasure—­”

“Pardon me, ma’am, for interrupting you; but did that clue take the form of a map of the island?”

“It did, sir.”

“A map with three red crosses upon it and some writing on the back?  Nay, I will not press the question.  Your faces answer it.”

“I ought to tell you, Dr. Beauregard, in justice to the boy, that he came by it honestly, though in very tragic circumstances.”