ceptance of the Bristol facts, his almost
contemptuous brushing aside of them, reduced Vickers to a feeling of
helplessness. And Chatfield saw it, and laughed, and drawing a
pocket-flask out of his garments, helped himself to a tot of
spirits--after which he good-naturedly offered like refreshment to
Vickers. But Vickers shook his head.

"No, thanks," he said. He continued to stare at Chatfield much as he
might have, stared at the Sphinx if she had been present--and in the end
he could only think of one word. "Well?" he asked lamely. "Well?"

"As to what, now?" inquired Chatfield with a sly smile.

"About what you said," replied Vickers. "Miss Greyle, you know. I'm
about thoroughly tied up with all this. You evidently know a lot. Of
course you won't tell! You're devilish deep, Chatfield. But, between you
and me--what do you mean when you say that you don't see why you and Miss
Greyle shouldn't come to terms?"

"Didn't I say that during this last week or two I'd had my suspicions
about the Squire?" answered Chatfield. "I did. I have had them
suspicions--got 'em stronger than ever since last night. So--what I say
is this. If things should turn out that Miss Greyle's the rightful owner
of Scarhaven, and if I help her to establish her claim, and if I help,
too, to recover them valuables that are on the _Pike_--there's a good
sixty to eighty thousand pounds worth of stuff, silver, china, paintings,
books, tapestry, on that there craft, Mr. Vickers!--if, I say, I do all
that, what will Miss Greyle give me? That's it--in a plain way of
speaking."

"I thought it was," said Vickers dryly. "Of course! Very well--you'd
better come and talk to Miss Greyle. Come on--now!"

Copplestone and Audrey, having made a breakfast from the box of
provisions which Andrius had been good enough to send ashore with them,
had climbed to the head of the cliff after Vickers, and they were
presently astonished beyond measure to see him returning with Chatfield
under outward signs which suggested amity if not friendship. They paused
by a convenient nook in the rocks and silently awaited the approach of
these two strangely assorted companions. Vickers, coming near, gave them
a queer and a knowing look.

"Mr. Chatfield," he said gravely, "has had the night in which to reflect.
Mr. Chatfield desires peaceable relations. Mr. Chatfield doesn't
see--now, having reflected--why he and Miss Greyle shouldn't be on good'
terms. Mr. Chatfield desires to di