"There is but one man in the world who knows anything about this island; in fact he is the only man living who has a right to name it."
"I should imagine that the inhabitant you speak of would have an equal right," I observed.
"That is just where you make your mistake," said Torrence with a knowing look. "Were he an ordinary man he might have; but under the circumstances—hardly!"
"And what are the circumstances? Why should he not name it?" I insisted.
"Because he is an idiot!" said Torrence.
I started.
"And how do you know that?"
"If I am wrong we shall soon find out. If I am right we shall equally soon know it!"
He was searching the point of land with his glass, and seemed disinclined to continue the subject, so with rather unpleasant emotions, I concluded to wait for developments. It could not now belong before I should know if there was any foundation for Torrence's talk. Certainly what he had said savored of lunacy.
We now bore down upon the island rapidly, and saw a rocky ledge surmounting a narrow beach, where we concluded to land. The promontory had a flat top, about thirty feet above the sea and we lowered ourselves gently down upon it. Scarcely had we done so than Torrence said: