He moved to the foot of the staircase, but Miss Drewitt laid a detaining hand on his arm.

“Joseph was in the room when you said that you had burnt it,” she exclaimed.  “You can’t contradict yourself like that before him.  Besides, I’m sure he has had nothing to do with it.”

“Somebody’s got it,” grumbled her uncle, pausing.

He dropped into his chair and looked at her in consternation.  “Good heavens!  Suppose they go after it,” he said, in a choking voice.

“Well, it won’t be your fault,” said Prudence.  “You haven’t broken your word intentionally.”

But the captain paid no heed.  He was staring wild-eyed into vacancy and rumpling his grey hair until it stood at all angles.  His face reflected varying emotions.

“Somebody has got it,” he said again.

“Whoever it is will get no good by it,” said Miss Drewitt, who had had a pious upbringing.

“And if they’ve got the map they’ll go after the island,” said the captain, pursuing his train of thought.

“Perhaps they won’t find it after all,” said Prudence.

“Perhaps they won’t,” said the captain, gruffly.

He got up and paced the room restlessly.  Prudence, watching him with much sympathy, had a sudden idea.

“Edward Tredgold was in here alone this afternoon,” she said, significantly.

“No, no,” said the captain, warmly.  “Whoever has got it, it isn’t Edward Tredgold.  I expect the talk about it has leaked out and somebody has slipped in and taken it.  I ought to have been more careful.”

“He started when you said that you had burnt it,” persisted Miss Drewitt, unwilling to give up a theory so much to her liking.  “You mark my words if his father and Mr. Chalk and that Mr. Stobell don’t go away for a holiday soon.  Good-night.”

She kissed him affectionately under the left eye—­a place overlooked by his beard—­and went upstairs again.  The captain filled his pipe and, resuming his chair, sat in a brown study until the clock of the neighbouring church struck two.

It was about the same time that Mr. Chalk fell asleep, thoroughly worn out by the events of the evening and a conversation with Mr. Stobell and Mr. Tredgold, whom he had met on the way home waiting for him.

The opinion of Mr. Tredgold senior, an opinion in which Mr. Stobell fully acquiesced, was that Mr. Chalk had ruined everything by displaying all along a youthful impetuosity sadly out of place in one of his years and standing.  The offender’s plea that he had thought it best to strike while the iron was hot only exposed him to further contumely.

“Well, it’s no good talking about it,” said Mr. Tredgold, impatiently.  “It’s all over now and done with.”

“Half a million clean chucked away,” said Mr. Stobell.

Mr. Chalk shook his head and, finding that his friends had by no means exhausted the subject, suddenly bethought himself of an engagement and left them.