Again I pored over the paper, and presently I translated it to mean as follows:
Scilly Isles.
Name of Island: Annette. Uninhabited.
Calm sea. (Be sure of this.)
Due south of the island. Go as far as possible.
Here southward still is a rock, of which a
rough sketch is given. The treasure is laid at
the point indicated by the black spot, called the
Devil's Point.
Hell's Mouth S.W. Billy's Head N.W.
An iron box jammed tight. Take pick, crow-
bar, and shovel.
The longer I looked at the paper the more certain I was that I had given the correct meaning to it, and yet the whole idea of a buried treasure became absurd.
"Eli," I said, "are you sure this is intended to tell where a treasure is?"
"Iss."
"Look, Eli, tell me the history of this paper. Tell me who wrote it, and what Granfer Fraddam had to do with it. Tell me how it came into your mother's hands and into yours."
"Shaan't tell 'ee nothin' more," grunted Eli. "'Tes there. Give et to me ef you doan't want et."
I sat for a long time in deep thought, for I scarcely knew what step to take. Presently, however, my mind was made up. I would, at any rate, see if these rudely drawn characters had any meaning. By this means I might get back Pennington, and I should not take Naomi to the altar a penniless outcast.
If these directions had no meaning I should be none the worse; if there were a treasure, I had as much right to it as any other man; nay, more. Eli was Granfer Fraddam's descendant, and he had given the paper to me.
Besides, the longer I thought of it, the more I was convinced that there was a meaning in what I had been reading. Why should it have been written at all? Why was Granfer Fraddam so particular to preserve it? And, above all, why should Cap'n Jack Truscott be so eager to obtain it?