They
were not pleasant stories as I remembered them at that moment. The
island had a "past." The mention of it brought hazy recollections to
natives--recollections that were too misty to put into words, but which
the untutored mind connected with happenings that were anything but
pleasant. And I recalled a night at "Tonga Pete's" place on the Rue de
Rivoli at Papeete, when a sailor from a copra schooner in the bay, who
had been marooned upon the island by Captain "Bully" Hayes, told a wild,
weird story of unexplainable happenings that he had witnessed during the
two days and two nights he had spent ashore.
Holman came hurrying upon deck as I was endeavouring to remember all the
story that the sailor had told, and the youngster immediately rushed me
with the news.
"The captain has just told me," I said.
"Well, Leith has just given the information out in the cabin," he cried.
"They must have decided to give it out at the same moment."
"But the Professor?" I asked. "Surely he knew. Do you mean to say that
he was ignorant of the fact that it was the Isle of Tears and not
Penrose Island that we were making for?"
Holman laughed at my question.
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