CHAPTER X
CAPTAIN HIGGINSON AND THE SPANISH MAIN
The Churchwarden, having put back into his pocket the bottle of Odour of Sanctity, folded his hands across his fat stomach and began again:
"As I was saying——"
"Never mind that," said Toby. "Tell us what we had better do."
"Well, as I was saying," went on the Churchwarden, paying no attention to Toby, "the best idea that occurs to me, after thinking it over considerable, is that—But I ain't saying there's none better, and I don't lay claim to being any wiser than—Anyway, it seems to me we ought to——"
"Just listen to this!" broke in Aunt Amanda. She had been studying the map all this time, and she was holding it in her hands. She was much excited. "I've just made out all this handwriting at the bottom of the map, and I'll read it to you. Do you want to hear it?" Her voice shook and her hands trembled. Everybody except the Churchwarden begged her to go on. "Oh! do you think it could be true? If it only could! Oh, if it could only be true!"
"Maybe if you'd read it, Aunt Amanda——" said Toby.
"Yes, yes, I will," said she, all of a twitter. "I'll read it. Don't hurry me. This is what it says. If it could only be true! 'Correction Island: By dead Reckoning, latitude 12° 32' 14" N., longitude 61° 45' 13"
W.,' whatever that means. But I'll read it to you just as it's written. It's a queer kind of language—Anyway, this is what it says: