I was trembling yet.

"They have stacked the treasure there beyond the last window," Plinny
informed me, nodding towards the end of the verandah, where Captain
Branscome, Mr. Rogers, and Mr. Goodfellow were already gathered and
busy in conversation. "In bulk it is less than we expected, but in
value (the Doctor says) it goes beyond everything. Three
hundredweight, they say, and in pure gems! He is to choose his
share, by-and-by; and then we have to contrive how to take it down to
the ship."

"Miss Plinlimmon," said the Captain, coming towards us, "you promised
me a word yesterday. I should wish to claim it now--that is, if
Harry can spare you."

I observed that his voice shook a little, but this I set down to
excitement.

"Did I? Yes, I remember."

Miss Plinlimmon's voice, too, was tremulous. She hesitated, and her
eyes in the dim light seemed to seek mine.

I assured her that I was recovering fast, here in the fresh air, and
that it would be a kindness, indeed, to leave me alone. She bent
quickly and kissed me. I wondered why, as she stepped past the
Captain and he followed her down the verandah steps.

I wished to be left alone. I was puzzled, and what puzzled me
was that neither Miss Belcher nor Dr. Beauregard had left the
dining-room. In fact, as I passed out through the window, happening
to turn my head, I had caught sight of his face, and it had signalled
to her to stay. I knew not why he should intend harm to Miss Belcher
rather than to any other of our party. But I distrusted the man; and
Plinny had scarcely left me before, having made sure that Mr. Rogers
and Mr. Goodfellow were within easy call, I rose up softly, crept to
the dining-room window, and, dropping upon hands and knees close by
the wall, peered into the room.

The Doctor and Miss Belcher had reseated themselves, He had poured
himself out another glass of wine and was holding it up to the light
with a steady hand, while she watched him, her elbows on the table
and her firm jaw resting on her clasped fingers. Her face, though it
showed no sign of fear, was pallid.

"Yes," he was saying slowly; "it is too late at this hour to be
discussing what the priests would call the sin of it. You would
never convince me; and if you convinced me, I am too old--and too
weary--for what the priests call repentance. I am Martin--the same
man that outwitted Melhuish and his crew--the same that played Harry
with this Glass, and the man Coffin