That was all. A fairly clear direction for any friend who had
attended the obsequies of Bill and knew where to look for the stone
marked B. H. and a cross-bones, but to perfect strangers it was
vague.

A blank look crept into the intent faces about the table.

"It--it don't happen to say in more deetail jest precisely where
that cave might be looked for?" inquired Mr. Tubbs hopefully.

"In more detail?" repeated Miss Browne challengingly. "Pray, Mr.
Tubbs, what further detail could be required?"

"A good deal more, I am afraid," remarked the Scotchman grimly.

Miss Browne whirled upon him. In her cold eye a spark had kindled.
And suddenly I had a new vision of her. I saw her no longer as the
deluder of Aunt Jane, but as herself the deluded. Her belief in
the treasure was an obsession. This map was her talisman, her way
of escape from an existence which had been drab and dull enough, I
dare say.

"Mr. Shaw, we are given not one, but several infallible landmarks.
The cave has two mouths, it can be approached by sea, it is IN the
immediate neighborhood of the grave of William Halliwell, which is
to be recognized by its headstone. As the area of our search is
circumscribed by the narrow limits of this island, I fail to see
what further marks of identification can be required."

"A grave ninety years old and hidden beneath a tropical jungle is