"My client is not a rich woman," he began.
"Chalk knows that," interrupted Mr.Stobell.

"The airs and graces that girl will give herself if you go on like that----" "But she has some property there which she is anxious to obtain," continued Mr.Tredgold, with a warning glance at the speaker.

"That being so----" "Make him wish he may die first," interposed Miss Vickers, briskly.
"Yes, yes; that's all right," said Tredgold, meeting Mr.Chalk's startled gaze.
"It will be when he's done it," retorted the determined Miss Vickers.
"It's a secret," explained Mr.Tredgold, addressing his staring friend.
"And you must swear to keep it if it's told you.

That's what she means.
I've had to and so has Stobell." A fierce grunt from Mr.Stobell, who was still suffering from the remembrance of an indignity against which he had protested in vain, came as confirmation.

Then the marvelling Mr.Chalk rose, and instructed by Miss Vickers took an oath, the efficacy of which consisted in a fervent hope that he might die if he broke it.
"But what's it all about ?" he inquired, plaintively.
Mr.Tredgold conferred with Miss Vickers, and that lady, after a moment's hesitation, drew a folded paper from her bosom and beckoned to Mr.Chalk.
With a cry of amazement he recognised the identical map of Bowers's Island, which he had last seen in the hands of its namesake.