"Secret?"

"Yes. I mean, do many save yourself know of the existence of gold on that island of blood?"

"None save me. No one has even seen the knife but myself and you."

"Good. You love the _Sea Flower_?"

"I love the _Sea Flower_ as every sailor loves, or ought to love, his ship. I wish I could afford to buy her out and out."

"The other shares are in the market then?"

Tandy was seated now cross-legged on a chair, and leaning over the back of it, bending towards Halcott with an earnest light, in his eyes, such as few had ever seen therein.

"The other shares _are_ for sale," said Halcott.

It was just at this moment that Ransey Tansey and little Nelda came, or rather burst into the room. Both were breathless, both were rosy; and Bob, who came in behind them, was panting, with half a yard of tongue-- well, perhaps, not _quite_ so much--hanging red over his alabaster teeth.

"O daddy," cried Babs, as father still called her, "we've had such fun!

And the 'Ral," (a pet name that the crane had somehow obtained possession of) "dug up plenty of pretty things for us, and he wanted Bob to eat a big white worm, only Bob wouldn't."

One of his children stood on each side of him, and he had placed one arm round each.

Thus Tandy faced Halcott once more, smiling, perhaps, a little sadly now.

"_I_ can buy those shares, Halcott. Do not think me ambitious. A money-grabber I never was. But, you see these little tots. Ransey here can make his way in the world.--Can't you, Ransey?"

"Rather, father," said Ransey.

"But, Halcott, though I am not in the flower of my youth, I'm in the prime of my manhood, and I'd do everything I know to build up a shelter for my little Babs against the cold winds of adversity before I--But I must not speak of anything sad before the child."

"You have a long life before you, I trust," said Weathereye.

Tandy seemed to hear him not.

"I'd go as your mate."

The two sailors shook hands.

"You'll go as my friend, and keep watch if you choose."

"Agreed!"

"Bravo!" cried Weathereye. "Shiver my jib, as sailors say in books, if I wouldn't like to go along with both of you!"

"Why not, Captain Weathereye?"

The staff-commander laughed. "Not this cruise, lads, though I'm not afraid for my life, or the little that may be left of it, and you must take care of yours. I think myself you are going on a kind of wild-goose chase, and that the goose--that is, the gold--will have the best of it, by keeping out of your way. Well, anyhow, I'll come and see you both over the bar. Where do you sail from?"

"Southampton."

"Good! and the last person you'll see as you drop out to sea will be old Weathereye in a boat waving his red bandana to wish you luck.

Good-night!

"Good-night, little Babs! How provokingly pretty she is, Tandy! better leave her at Scragley Hall, and the crane too. She'll be well looked after, you may figure upon that. Come and give the old man a kiss, dear."

But Nelda hung her head.

"Not if you say that, Captain Weathereye. Wherever _ever_ daddy goes, I go with him. I'm _not_ going to let my brother run away to sea and leave me again."

"And you won't give me Bob?" said Weathereye.

"Oh, _no_!"

"Nor the Admiral?"

Nelda looked up in the old captain's face now.

"I'm just real sorry for you," she said; "but the Hal's going and all--_you_ may figure on that."

Weathereye laughed heartily.

Then he drew the child gently towards him and kissed her little sun-browned hand.

"May G.o.d be with you, darling, where'er on earth you roam! And with you all. Good-night again."

And away went honest Captain Weathereye.

Book 2--CHAPTER EIGHT.

AT SEA--MERMAIDS AND MERMEN.

So long as the wind blew free, even though it did not always blow fair, there was joy, and jollity, too, in every heart that beat on board the saucy _Sea Flower_, fore as well as aft.

She looked a bonnie barque now, in every sense of the word.

Tandy and Halcott had spared neither expense nor pains in rigging her well out. Had not her timbers been stanch and sound they certainly would not have done so.

She had new sails, a new jibboom, and several new spars; and before she got clear and away out of the English Channel the crew of many a homeward-bound ship manned their riggings and gave her a hearty cheer.

Halcott had left the whole rig-out of the _Sea Flower_ to Mr Tandy, and had not come near her for six long weeks.

He was better employed, perhaps, and more happy on sh.o.r.e. But pleased enough he was on his return.

"Why, Tandy, my dear fellow, this isn't a ship any more; it's a yacht?"

"A pot of paint and a bucket of tar go a long way," Tandy replied smiling.

"Ah! there's a good deal more than tar here; but how you've managed to get her decks and spars so white and beautiful, bother me if I can tell.

And her ebony is ebony no longer, it is polished jet, while her bra.s.s work is gold."