"It is all a guess; we made good progress most of the night, and I have no confidence in the chart. There are headlands hereabout, and we might be within hail of one at this minute. It is safer to lie quiet until the mist lifts. By the way, Watkins—"
"Ay, ay, sir."
"Miss Fairfax tells me that was a storeroom in which I fought the ape last night."
"It was, sir." "And she reports having seen a chest, iron-bound, among the other stuff. Did you notice it?"
He walked across to the rail, spat overboard, and came back, politely wiping his lips on his sleeve.
"Yes, sir, I did; it was stored ter starboard, an ol'fashioned sea chest, padlocked, an' looked like a relic, but a damned strong box. You think maybe there's gold in it?"
"Likely enough. I found about five hundred pounds in the Captain's room; but there must be more aboard, unless it was left behind in Cuba. My idea is that was why the monkey was locked up in there—to guard the treasure. Does that sound reasonable?"
He scratched his head, his eyes wandering from her face to mine.
"Yes, sir, it does. I've heard o' such things afore. A chimpanzee is better'n a big dog on such a job; thar ain't no sailor who would tackle the beast."
"That was my way of looking at it. So while we are lying here, and the lads are in good humor—hear that laugh—I am going to find out what's in the chest. After I know, I'll talk to the men. Do you agree?"