It was the box which Emmeline had always been losing--lost again.
Lestrange buried his face in his hands. He knew the things. Emmeline had shown them to him in a burst of confidence. Out of all that vast ocean he had searched unavailingly: they had come to him like a message, and the awe and mystery of it bowed him down and crushed him.
The captain had placed the things on the newspaper spread out by his side, and he was unrolling the little spoons from their tissue-paper covering. He counted them as if entering up the tale of some trust, and placed them on the newspaper.
"When did you find them?" asked Lestrange, speaking with his face still covered.
"A matter of over seven years ago," replied the captain, "we'd put in to water at a place south of the line--Palm Tree Island we whalemen call it, because of the tree at the break of the lagoon. One of my men brought it aboard, found it in a shanty built of sugarcanes which the men bust up for devilment."
"Good God!" said Lestrange. "Was there no one there--nothing but this box?"
"Not a sight or sound, so the men said; just the shanty, abandoned seemingly. I had no time to land and hunt for castaways, I was after whales."
"How big is the island?"
"Oh, a fairish middle-sized island--no natives. I've heard tell it's tabu; why, the Lord only knows--some crank of the Kanakas I s'pose.
Anyhow, there's the findings--you recognise them?"
"I do."
"Seems strange," said the captain, "that I should pick em up; seems strange your advertisement out, and the answer to it lying amongst my gear, but that's the way things go."
"Strange!" said the other. "It's more than strange."
"Of course," continued the captain, "they might have been on the island hid away som'ere, there's no saying; only appearances are against it.
Of course they might be there now unbeknownst to you or me."
"They are there now," answered Lestrange, who was sitting up and looking at the playthings as though he read in them some hidden message. "They are there now. Have you the position of the island?"
"I have. Missus, hand me my private log."
She took a bulky, greasy, black note-book from the bureau, and handed it to him. He opened it, thumbed the pages, and then read out the latitude and longitude.
"I entered it on the day of finding--here's the entry. `Adams brought aboard child's toy box out of deserted shanty, which men pulled down; traded it to me for a caulker of rum.' The cruise lasted three years and eight months after that; we'd only been out three when it happened.