"Your explanation seems plausible."
"Nothing could be more simple. The Brazilian received the particulars of the position of the island from Dirham, who, judging by the postmarks and addresses on these envelopes, sent the information from Port Said or Suez. It was after we left Malta, you remember, that the latitude and longitude of the island became an open secret. No doubt the villain, who may be a man of wealth or at least of considerable means, knew far more about the treasure than we are aware. He might have wormed part of the secret from Ross Trevena or his son during their residence near Pernambuco. However, he receives the information, for, as you see here, he acknowledges the receipt of it, and I'll be greatly surprised if a private steam-yacht has not been chartered to try and carry off the treasure before we arrived at the island."
"I should like to witness their disappointment," remarked my uncle.
"It would not be greater than mine is," replied my father, relapsing into a depressed tone at the thought of our ill-fortune. "Two poor fellows have been sacrificed to the lust of gold, and the bulk of the treasure lies at the bottom of the sea."
"You may recover it yet, 'sir," exclaimed the bos'n. "The divers are willing to make the attempt, and it may be that there is less water at the spot where the whaler sank than we know of."
"No, Mr. Wilkins," replied my father emphatically, "I'll have no more lives risked in the matter. The stuff can stay where it is. After all, we have not done so badly, if we do not take into consideration the two deplorable fatalities. The two large chests, four boxes of specie, and the gold plate are not to be sneezed at, and, as I have already announced to the crew, every man will be well provided for when the treasure is shared out. Even now we have done better than most of the treasure-hunting syndicates that have been formed in recent years, for we have a substantial balance in hand."
"Then we'll weigh anchor to-morrow, sir?" asked the bos'n. "Everything is shipshape—stores, water, and ballast are aboard."
"You must have worked well," exclaimed my father enthusiastically. "Yes, to-morrow at daybreak."
* * * * *
The rasping of the windlass and the clinking of the cable as it came slowly inboard were the welcome sounds that greeted my ears early the next morning, and, jumping out of my bunk, I proceeded to dress in order to have a glimpse of San Philipo Island before it was lost to view. But before I was half-way through that operation a hoarse voice shouted "Sail-ho!"