It was evident from the laboured respiration of the ardent Mr. Stobell, coupled with a word or two which had filtered through the window, that the ingenious Mr. Chalk was using him as a stalking-horse. From the fact that Mr. Stobell made no denial it was none the less evident, despite the growing blackness of his appearance, that he was a party to the arrangement. The captain began to see the reason.
"It's all about that island," explained Mr. Chalk; "he can talk of nothing else."
The captain suppressed a groan, and Mr. Tredgold endeavoured, but without success, to exchange smiles with Miss Drewitt.
"Aye, aye," said the captain, desperately.
"He's as eager as a child that's going to its first pantomime," continued Mr. Chalk.
Mr. Stobell's appearance was so alarming that he broke off and eyed him with growing uneasiness.
"You were talking about a pantomime," said Mr. Tredgold, after a long pause.
Mr. Chalk cast an imploring glance at Mr. Stobell to remind him of their compact, and resumed.
"Talks of nothing else," he said, watching his friend, "and can't sleep for thinking of it."
"That's bad," said Mr. Tredgold, sympathetically. "Has he tried shutting his eyes and counting sheep jumping over a stile?"