Now what were we to think of Tobias?—­what really were his notions about this supposititious treasure?—­and what was likely to be his plan of action?  Had he really any private knowledge of the whereabouts of his alleged ancestral treasure?—­or was his first authentic hint of its whereabouts derived from the manuscript—­first overheard while eavesdropping at John Saunders’s office, and afterward purloined from John Saunders’s verandah?

There seemed little doubt that this second surmise was correct; for, if he had had any previous knowledge, he would have had no need of the manuscript and long ago he would have gone after the treasure for himself, and found it or not, as the case might be.  Probably there was a tradition in his family of the existence somewhere of his grandfather’s treasure; but that tradition was very likely the sum of his inheritance; and doubtless it was the mere accident of his dropping into Saunders’s office that morning which had set him on the track.

It was also likely, indeed practically certain, that he had been able to make no more out of the manuscript than I had; that he had concluded that I had somehow or other unearthed more about it than he; and that, therefore, his most promising clue to its discovery would be my actions.  To keep me in sight was the first step.  So far so good.

But thus far, it would appear to him, I had had no very positive success.  Otherwise, I would not still be on the quest.  He had probably been aware of my movements, and may have been lying hidden on the island longer than we suspected.  From some of his spies he had heard of my presence in the settlement, and, chance having directed him to Sweeney’s store at the moment of Calypso’s ringing down that Spanish gold on the counter, he had somehow connected Calypso’s doubloon with me.

At all events, it was clear that there were such coins on the island in somebody’s possession.  Then, when he had watched Calypso on her way home—­and, without any doubt, been the spectator of our meeting at the edge of the wood though we had been unable to catch sight of him—­there would, of course, be a suspicion in his mind that my quest might at last be approaching success, and that his ancestral millions might be almost in my hands.  That there might be some other treasure on the island with which neither he nor his grandfather had any concern would not occur to him, nor would it be likely to trouble him if it did.  My presence was enough to prove that the treasure was his—­for was it not his treasure that I was after?  Logic irrefutable!  How was he to know that all the treasure so far discovered was that modest hoard—­unearthed, as I had heard, in the garden—­the present whereabouts of which was known only to Calypso.  The “King” had interrupted himself at this point of argument.

“By the way, Calypso, where is it?” he asked unexpectedly, to the sudden confusion of both of us.  “Isn’t it time you revealed your mysterious Aladdin’s cave?”