“What!” I exclaimed, in inexpressible amazement, “can it be possible that you are Svorenssen and—and Van Ryn? Why, I believed that you and all the rest of the crew of the Yorkshire Lass were drowned when she was wrecked, more than a year ago.”

“So we was, Mister—very nigh,” replied Svorenssen. “There was only three of us—besides you and Billy—that escaped; and that was me, Dirk here, and a chap named Flemin’—Pete, we used to call ’im. When the ship struck we was all washed overboard by the first sea as broke aboard; and nat’rally those of us as could swim struck out as soon as our heads rose above water. And—but, I say, Mister, ain’t there no breakfast knockin’ about? We haven’t ate nothin’ since yesterday a’ternoon, and we’re feelin’ pretty sharp set, I can tell ye.”

“Breakfast!” I reiterated. “Why, of course. It will be ready in about an hour’s time. But you cannot come up to the house as you are, you know—by the way, were you by any chance prowling about in the neighbourhood of the house last night?”

“Ay, we was,” answered Svorenssen. “We landed on the beach below it, and made it out at once in the moonlight. We guessed as it was yours; and we was for rousin’ you out to give us a bite o’ supper; but that dog o’ yours growled so vicious, and seemed so savage, that we decided to wait till this mornin’.”

“It was extremely fortunate for you that you did,” said I. “The ‘dog’, as you call him, happens to be a leopard; and if you had persisted in your attempt to approach the house, the pair of you would assuredly have been killed. I tell you this at once, by way of warning.”

“The beast will ’ave to be shained oop; else how are we to go in an’ out of der ’ouse?” demanded Van Ryn.

“You will not go in and out of the house,” I retorted. “There is no room for you there. Then, just look at yourselves. You are as indecent in the matter of your clothing as you are filthy in your persons. Before anything else you will have to cleanse yourselves, and be clothed decently. The condition of your clothes you cannot help, I suppose, being castaways for more than a year; but you might at least have kept your bodies clean. You are disgustingly verminous, both of you; and after you have had a meal your first business must be to get yourselves clean. You will remain here while Billy and I go up to the house and bring you down some breakfast; after which I must see what can be done to make you reasonably presentable.”

“All right. Mister,” answered Svorenssen, “we’ll keep clear of the ’ouse, never fear. We don’t want to be tore to pieces by no leopards, after tryin’ our utmost for over a year to get to ye and lend a hand in whatever you might be doin’ to get away from this ruddy hole. We’re just as anxious as you can be to get away from it, you may bet on that.”

“Well,” said I to Billy, as we turned away to retrace our steps to the house, our bath completely forgotten, “this reappearance of Svorenssen and Van Ryn is a surprise, and not altogether an agreeable one at that. I never particularly liked either of them; they impressed me from the very beginning as being insubordinate of disposition and impatient of discipline; and I have not forgotten the character that the boatswain and Chips gave them. How did they behave before I joined the Yorkshire Lass, Billy? Had your father ever any trouble with them?”

“Yes, in some ways a good deal,” answered Billy. “What the boatswain and Chips said about them was quite true. They and the other two foreigners were always quarrelling with the rest of the forecastle hands; they wanted to do only just what work suited them, and not what Father wanted them to do; and from what the other men said I believe that the Dagoes would have mutinied if it had not been for the chance of getting hold of and sharing the treasure.”