rattled into the station. The carriage containing the travellers stopped
almost in front of him, and their consternation and annoyance at the
extent of their reception were plainly visible. Bronzed and
healthy-looking, they stepped out on to the platform, and after a brief
greeting to Mrs. Chalk and Mrs. Stobell led the way in some haste to the
exit. The crowd pressed close behind, and inquiries as to the treasure
and its approximate value broke clamorously upon the ears of the maddened
Mr. Stobell. Friends of many years who sought for particulars were
shouldered aside, and it was left to Mr. Chalk, who struggled along in
the rear with his wife, to announce that they had been shipwrecked.

Captain Bowers, who had just caught the word, heard the full particulars
from him next day. For once the positions were reversed, and Mr. Chalk,
who had so often sat in that room listening to the captain's yarns,
swelled with pride as he noted the rapt fashion in which the captain
listened to his. The tale of the shipwreck he regarded as a disagreeable
necessity: a piece of paste flaunting itself among gems. In a few words
he told how the _Fair Emily_ crashed on to a reef in the middle of the
night, and how, owing to the darkness and confusion, the boat into which
he had got with Stobell and Tredgold was cast adrift; how a voice raised
to a shriek cried to them to pull away, and how a minute afterwards the
schooner disappeared with all hands.

"It almost unnerved me," he said, turning to Miss Drewitt, who was
listening intently.

"You are sure she went down, I suppose?" said the captain; "she didn't
just disappear in the darkness?"

"Sank like a stone," said Mr. Chalk, decidedly. "Our boat was nearly