“Oh, it's awful!” said Jeremy. “And where is your ship now?”
“Ah, my ship!” the Captain replied, winking in the most mysterious fashion; “it would be telling to say where that is. I can trust you, I know; I'm a great judge o' character, I am, but not even with my own mother, gone to glory now twenty years and as holy a soul as ever breathed, I wouldn't trust even 'er with the secret.”
“Why is it a secret?” asked Jeremy breathlessly.
“Treasure,” said the Captain, dropping his voice.
“Treasure, nothing less nor more. Between you and me there's enough gold on that there ship to satisfy the Prime Minister 'imself, to say nothing of the jewels—rubies, pearls, diamonds. My word, if you could see them diamonds. I'm looking about me now for an extra man or two, and then I'm off again—silent come, silent go's my motto—”
“I suppose you don't happen to want a cabin-boy?” gasped Jeremy, his voice choked in his throat.
“Well, now, that's a funny thing,” said the Captain. “It's one of the very things. But I'm afraid you're a bit young. Yet I don't know. We might—”
He broke off, suddenly lifted his finger to his lip, whispered:
“Keep your eyes open. I'll be round again,” and had vanished.
Directly after Jeremy heard Miss Jones's unwelcome voice: “Why, Jeremy, we couldn't find you anywhere. It's turning cold—tea-time—” With a thump and a thud and a bang he fell back into the homely world.