He scratched his head musingly. Presently he asked—
"How much d'you think it would cost to hire a schooner for the trip down to this island she talks about?"
"I don't know, because she hasn't told me where the island is."
"Well, now, that's what I call a pity, but at any rate"—here he leant towards me and dropped his voice almost to a whisper—"if you think your chance with her hangs on your finding money enough for that cruise dash my wig if I won't lend it to you."
If he had offered to produce the moon from his waistcoat pocket, and give me a bite of it, I could not have been more surprised. He was the last man in the world I should have expected to receive assistance from. So, for a second or two, I hardly knew what to say, then I managed to stammer out—
"That's awfully generous of you seeing you know nothing about me; but do you mean it? Honest Injun?"
"Real downright honest Injun!"
In his excitement he had struggled down from his bed, and now stood before me as weird a picture in the half light as any man could wish to see.
"Well, there you are," he said; "there's my offer—take it or leave it, just as you please. Up to three hundred pounds the money's yours; come for it when you will."
"But I may never be able to repay you. Remember, bar what I've told you, you don't know anything of me."