t. Once we had got the treasure we could have
given Captain Bowers his share, or more than his share, and it would have
been all right. As it is, nobody must know that we went for it."

Mr. Stobell, unable to trust himself with speech, stumped fiercely up and
down the beach.

"But it will all have to come out if we are rescued," objected Mr. Chalk.

"We can tell what story we like," said Tredgold. "We can say that the
schooner went to pieces on a reef in the night; we got separated from the
other boat and made our way here. We have got plenty of time to concoct
a story, and there is nobody to contradict it."

Mr. Stobell brought up in front of him and frowned thoughtfully. "I
suppose you're right," he said, slowly; "but if we ever get off this
chicken-perch, and I run across him, let him look out, that's all."

To pass the time they built themselves a hut on the beach in a situation
where it would stand the best chance of being seen by any chance vessel.
At one corner stood a mast fashioned from a tree, and a flag, composed
for the most part of shirts which Mr. Chalk thought his friends had done
with, fluttered bravely in the breeze. It was designed to attract
attention, and, so far as the bereaved Mr. Stobell was concerned, it
certainly succeeded.

CHAPTER XX

Nearly a year had elapsed since the sailing of the _Fair Emily_, and
Binchester, which had listened doubtfully to the tale of the treasure as
revealed by Mr. William Russell, was still awaiting news of her fate.
Cablegrams to Sydney only elicited the information that she had not been
heard of, and the opinion became general that she had added but one more
to the many mysteries of the sea.

Captain Bowers, familiar with many cases of ships long overdue which had
reached home in safety, still hoped, but it was clear from the way in
which Mrs. Chalk spoke of her husband and the saint-like qualities she
attributed to him that she never expected to see him again. Mr. Stobell
also appeared to his wife through tear-dimmed eyes as a person of great
gentleness and infinite self-sacrifice.

"All the years we were married," she said one afternoon to Mrs. Chalk,
who had been listening with growing impatience to an account of Mr.
Stobell which that gentleman would have been the first to disclaim, "I
never gave him a cross word. Nothing was too good for me; I only had to
ask to have."

Mrs. Chalk couldn't help herself. "Why don't you ask, then?" she