Story 1--Chapter XV.
The Silent Sea.
The schooner sped on, and nothing troublous disturbed the progress of the voyage as the days glided by. So free from suspicion was everything on board, that the captain was beginning to be lulled into a sense of security, and a change had come over Pugh.
A reconciliation had not taken place between him and Hester; but he did not avoid her now, but in a quiet, stern way watched over her, attending her as she struggled back to health under the unremitting charge of the doctor; and her lips daily grew less pale as the light of hope began once more to shine in her eyes.
The routine of the ship went on in a regular way, and the men smoked and idled as they entered the tropics, and neared the object of the voyage. The doctor made himself specially agreeable to Sam Oakum, chatted with him, gave him cigars, which Sam cut up and chewed, ending by talking about John Studwick; at which Sam winked to himself as he thought that the doctor would not have taken so much interest in the case if it had not been for the sister. Then, to use Oakum’s own words, Mr Wilson would “come and fold his back,” so as to lean his elbows on the bulwarks, and chatter about his birds and the natural-history objects Sam had seen in his travels—that worthy not forgetting to shoot the birds he described with the long bow; and all the while Mr Wilson, who was an exceedingly meek individual, would be smoothing his light, towey hair, which the winds blew about, altering the set of his tie and collar, and brushing the specks off his clothes.
“He’s a poor, weak, soft Tommy sort of a chap,” said Sam to himself, as he watched him out of one corner of his eye, and saw that he was constantly on the look-out to see if Bessy Studwick came up on deck, content to watch her from a distance, for her brother had taken quite an antipathy to him.
“Heigho!” he’d sigh, as he shook his head, and gazed down at the water, as if wondering whether he had not better emulate Dutch’s plunge, and not come up again. “Heigho! this is a strange world, Mr Oakum.”
“It’s a rum ’un, sir, all round, and always was. But I say, sir, it’s easy to see what’s the matter with you.”
“Oh, nonsense, nonsense, Mr Oakum!” said the tall fellow, blushing like a girl.
“It’s only natur’, sir,” said Sam, sympathetically, as he gave a good twist to his quid, and winked at one of the blacks. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed on.”
“Ah; Mr Oakum, I wish I was in such favour as you are over yonder.”
“You would not like to pay the cost, sir, I know.”
“Pay the cost, Mr Oakum; what do you mean?”
“It’s only we ugly ones as enjoys these privileges with the fair sect. You wouldn’t like to be old and ugly like me, to be talked to as I am.”
“Ah, Mr Oakum, I would be her dog if she would be fond of me—or a bird,” he said, enthusiastically. “Ah, if I had only thought of it before I started.”
“Thought o’ what, sir?” said Sam, winking at the black again.
“Of bringing a few canaries. They are such nice presents to give a lady.”
“Do you want to send a present to her, sir?”
“Oh, yes, Mr Oakum.”
“Well, sir, if I were in love with a lady, and wanted—”
“Oh, hush! Mr Oakum.”
“Wanted, I says, to find her a present, I shouldn’t send whistling canaries, but a pair o’ cooing doves.”
The young naturalist stared at old Oakum, as if he wished to penetrate his inmost thoughts; but the old sailor never flinched, looking as serious as a judge outside, but laughing heartily within at the other’s expense.
“I will,” he exclaimed; and hurrying away he was busy the rest of the day painting up one of his old cages, in which he placed a pair of doves, and called the old sailor down to him in the evening.
“Take those to Miss Studwick, Mr Oakum, with my compliments, and—er—by the way—er—you would not feel offended if I offered you half-a-crown to buy tobacco?”
“Not in the least, sir,” exclaimed Oakum, earnestly. “I’d do owt to oblige you.”
“Take them directly, then,” he exclaimed; and with the two soft-plumaged birds sitting close together as the old fellow swung the cage, the present was taken to where Bessy Studwick sat by the side of her brother, reading to him on deck.
Oakum was gone some time, and meanwhile poor Wilson fidgeted about amongst his birds, hardly able to bear the suspense, turning first red, and then pale, as Oakum came back, cage in hand, and set it down before him.
“Miss Studwick says she’s werry much obliged to you, sir,” said Sam; “but she can’t werry well keep the birds, as Mr John thinks they’d be too much for him to bear when they took to cooing.”
“It don’t matter, Oakum—set them down,” he said, huskily, with his back turned to the old sailor. “I only thought the birds might amuse them, as Mr John is so ill. Dick, Dick, pretty Dick,” first to one bird and then to another, to hide his confusion. “Come, little tame bird—come, Jenny,” he continued, opening one of the cage doors, when a pretty little red-poll came hopping down from one perch to the other, and then stood at the door looking out, with its head first on one side and then on the other, and its little beady eyes directed first at Oakum, then at its master.
“Why, bless its little heart, it looks as knowing as a Christian,” said the old sailor. “Why didn’t you send that one, sir? That would have pleased the young lady, and would have made no noise.”
Wilson shook his head as he held out his finger, and the bird uttered a loud twitter and flew to him, sitting on its living perch, and then, raffling its throat and crest, jerked out a little song, suffering itself afterwards to be stroked, and ending by picking a crumb from the naturalist’s mouth, and then flitting back to the cage in which it was duly secured.
But all of the birds were more or less tame, being ready to peck at the young man’s fingers; and a robin, setting up his feathers and making a playful attack as it fluttered its wings, and pecked and fought, ended by hopping on its perch, and bursting into a triumphant song, as if it had conquered some fierce rival.
“I wonder how many of them’ll live in a foreign country, sir, when you gets ’em there,” said Oakum.
“Well, not all,” said Mr Wilson; “but many of them. Mind the paint on that cage, Mr Oakum. I’m so much obliged. Er—you won’t take any notice about that cage and the birds? Not that it matters, only Mr Meldon or Mr Parkley might laugh, perhaps.”
“Not I, sir. You may trust me,” growled Sam.
“Some people have a habit of laughing at natural history, you know, er—er—because they don’t understand.”
“You may trust me, sir,” exclaimed the old fellow, as he went up the steps; and then to himself, “Yes, some folks has a habit of laughing at that kind o’ nat’ral history when they see it. For only to think of a thin, wobbling chap fancying as our Miss Bessy would take up with the likes o’ he. Hah! its a curus thing this love, and them as has got spliced don’t allus seem to fit.”
He went on deck to find Bessy Studwick still reading to her brother; and her voice sounded so hoarse that the old fellow trotted to the steward’s pantry for a glass of water and a couple of lumps of sugar, squeezing in afterwards the two halves of a lemon, bearing the drink himself to where John Studwick lay back gazing at the setting sun, his face lit up with a calm, placid smile; and, though his sister read on, he evidently hardly heard a word that was read.
He started slightly as Oakum came up with the tumbler.
“What is it?” he said, harshly. “Has that Mr Meldon sent me more medicine? I will not take it.”
Bessy Studwick must have turned her face more to the setting sun, for her cheeks grew crimson at her brother’s words; and, seeing this, he looked at her angrily.
“Lor’ bless your ’art, no, sir,” said Oakum. “I thought you and our young lady here might be a bit thirsty after so much book, so I brought you some lemonade.”
They gave him a grateful look, each thanking him for the attention to the other, and as he walked back with the empty glass Mr Meldon, who was standing talking to Hester Pugh and Mr Parkley, turned, sighed to himself, and looked after the old man with a feeling of envy.
“If I had paid that little attention,” he thought, “it would have been refused with some harsh remark. Poor fellow! even though he’s her brother, I do not wonder at his feeling jealous of every look.”
Days of sailing over bright, sun-flecked seas, evenings of gorgeous sunsets, and nights of black violet skies, with the great stars sparkling overhead, and reflected in myriads on the smooth surface of the wondrous phosphorescent water, all aglow with pale fire wherever fish darted, while the schooner’s bows seemed plunging through foaming, liquid moonbeams. Mornings with such wondrous tints of orange and scarlet, crimson and gold, that those who gazed upon them did so in awe of the mighty works of the grand world. Then came heat so intense that the brass rails burned the hand, the pitch oozed from the seams, and the passengers lay panting beneath the awning spread aft, and longing for the evening breeze.
Now and then the cocoanut-fringed islands were seen, but no stoppage was made; for, on consideration, it was decided that such a step might afford the Cuban a clue to their whereabouts, while now both Captain Studwick and Dutch felt satisfied that their suspicions had been without foundation—that they had indeed eluded him, and all they had to do now was to make the best of their way to the treasure, and secure their prizes.
So southward and westward went the schooner, past reef, key, and island towards the El Dorado of their hopes; the two invalids much better; in fact, Hester’s colour had been pretty well restored, and all she waited for was the day when her golden hopes would be realised—not those of finding ingot or bar long buried in the sea, but the restoration, complete and full, of her husband’s love and trust.
The Caribbean Sea had long been entered, and its sheltering chain of islands left behind; and now, with Oakum in consultation with the captain, the vessel’s course was altered to due south, with the result that one evening, after gradually creeping along the forest-clad coast of Venezuela, and land that seemed almost weird in its silence and wild grandeur, anchor was cast for the night, for the voyage was almost at an end.
A long debate took place that night, in which Oakum and the black took part, the result being eminently satisfactory to Mr Parkley and Dutch, for both the above spoke positively as to their being now within certainly a mile east or west of the spot where one of the wrecks could be found.
“I don’t say, you know, as I’ve put the schooner right on the spot; but she’s here close, and we must out boats and cruise about, looking down through the water, which is as clear as glass, till we get right, and then we can sail or tow her up.”
As the stars came out, and the adventurers stood by the bulwarks, gazing at the thick black wall of forest beyond the rocks and snowy sand, where the waves broke in lines of phosphorescent gold, they could easily understand how it was that these treasures had lain untouched so long. For here the beasts of the forest had sole dominion; and even the Indians of the country showed no sign of ever visiting the grand solitudes. All seemed as nature had left it when her handiwork was at an end; and, driven by some furious hurricane upon one or other of the rocks that abounded, a ship would fill and sink, and be forgotten.
Story 1--Chapter XVI.
Oakum at Fault.
There was a silence almost awful, affecting those on board so that they spoke in whispers; but every now and then some strange howl or wild cry made sailors and passengers start, and listen again for the weird whispers and noises that arose.
The solemnity of the scene had its effect on the men, who gathered together talking of supernatural visitations, haunted ships, and the ghosts of the old buccaneers who watched over their buried treasure, till they were all more or less infected with fear; and the squinting sailor expressed his opinion that no good would come of meddling with what was evidently meant to lie buried, he was sure—a declaration that excited the laughter of Tonio, who ended by calling him a cowardly fool.
Meanwhile, on deck the excitement of being at last so near the goal of their hopes kept the leaders of the expedition from seeking their cots, and Dutch was gazing thoughtfully at the breaking sea falling back in a murmur in golden foam, when he started, for a little cold hand was laid upon his, and he found that Hester was by his side.
“What do you want?” he said, coldly; but his voice had lost its former harshness.
“My husband to tell me that he believes and trusts me once again,” she said, piteously. And she sank on the deck to embrace his knees.
Dutch Pugh was a stern man, but he could not long resist this appeal. He had fought against the piteous glances now for many days. He had turned a deaf ear to Bessy Studwick’s rebukes and insistance upon Hester’s innocence; but now, in the soft darkness of that tropic night, in the silent grandeur of that mysterious sea, he felt his heart beat wildly with its old love. But there was that damning scene that he had witnessed from the garden seeming to rise up like a grim shadow between them, and, with a sigh, he raised her and led her weeping to the cabin stairs.
“Good-night, Dutch, dear Dutch,” she filtered, clinging to his arm.
“Good-night, Hester,” he said, coldly.
“Pray, pray do not let us part like that,” she whispered. “Dutch, dear Dutch, if you could only read my heart, you would know how unkind are your suspicions, how cruel to me. Let me explain. Question me—anything.”
“Good-night,” he said. “Go down below. I will not have a scene here.”
“I will obey you, Dutch,” she said, quietly, as by a great effort she mastered her emotion. “Some day, dear, you will find out the truth. Till then I will wait patiently and unchanging. Don’t be angry with me for coming. I should have died if you had left me behind.”
She spoke with so sweet a pathos in her voice that Dutch’s heart beat painfully, and the words were on his lips to say, “Come to me, darling, I do believe you;” but they were not spoken, for she slowly descended the stairs to the cabin, leaving him gazing wistfully after her. Then, walking to the side, he leaned his head upon his hands, praying in the bitterness of his heart that this painful time might end, and listening, as it were, to adverse promptings of his spirit, seeming to hear the sweet innocency of her life proclaimed to him on the one side, while on the other, in hateful repetition, came the scenes he had witnessed, the dreamy vision, the strange alteration in her manner, Lauré’s triumphant sneers, and the shadow on the blind.
“If heaven had but given me the strength of mind that has been given to my outward frame, I could have been happy,” he groaned.
“If you lean there and doze, so close to these forests, friend Pugh, we shall have you down with fever,” said the captain, laying his hand upon his shoulder.
Dutch started up, for he had not heard him approach.
“I was only thinking,” he said, hastily.
“I know what about, Pugh; and, from what my girl Bessy has said to me, I should like to talk to you. But I can’t help feeling that matters are coming right without my interfering. There, I’ll say no more. I only wanted to have a chat with you quietly. I’ve been talking to Parkley, and I wanted to tell you that I have made the strictest arrangements for guarding against surprise. Regular watch will be kept, just as if we were at sea; for, of course, before long it is probable that we may have many thousand pounds’ worth of metal on board. But at the same time I think we have circumvented the enemy.”
“You have seen nothing to excite your suspicions, then,” said Dutch.
“No. Nor you?”
“Nothing whatever.”
“That’s well; but, all the same, we will not relax our watchfulness. Parkley and the doctor have both promised, and you must do the same.”
“What is that?”
“Whenever you wake in the night, get up and come and have a turn round the deck. It will keep the men well to their work if they feel that at any time they may be overhauled.”
“What was that?” said Dutch, softly; and he laid his hand upon the captain’s arm.
They both stood listening intently, and gazing in the direction whence the sound had come.
The night was now intense in its darkness, and for reasons of their own—being, of course, far out of the track of ships—no lights whatever were shown; even those in the cabins were out, or so arranged that they would not attract attention if a wandering savage should have drawn up his canoe on the beach. The stars glittered overhead, but the greater part of the sky was overcast, and the heat seemed to portend a storm; but all was perfectly still, except the low, soft wash of the water as it broke upon the sands, and bathed them with the pale gold phosphorescence.
“I heard nothing,” said the captain, softly. “I’m afraid, Dutch Pugh, that we have frightened ourselves rather too much. All we need fear now is the weather. Perhaps we might have a little trouble with the Indians if they found us out; but we could easily keep them at bay.”
“I certainly heard an unusual sound,” replied Dutch. “Let’s walk quietly forward.”
They walked towards the bows, and as they did so a dark figure that had been lying a couple of yards from Dutch, close beneath the bulwarks, glided softly away, like some huge snake. So dark was it that it was hard to distinguish the outlines, and to trace where the figure went, while its movements were so silent that the two watchers saw nothing.
They went and spoke to the man leaning over the bows, who proved to be Dick Rolls.
“Heard anything?” said the captain, going up so silently that the man started.
“Lord’s truth, capen, don’t do that!” he exclaimed, in an injured tone. “It’s skeary enough here listening to the things creeping about in the wood there. No, I ain’t heard nothing else.”
“Keep a sharp look-out,” said the captain, and the man uttered a growl.
Walking softly aft, they found the man on the watch to be Bob Lennie, who was seated on the bulwarks, making a sort of humming noise to himself, under the impression that he was singing. He, too, allowed himself to be so closely approached that they almost touched him before he spoke.
“No,” he said, slowly, “I ain’t seed nor heered anything; only the lights over yonder in the woods, and the black things crawling in and out of the water where that there patch o’ yaller sand is.”
“You must have been mistaken, Pugh,” said the captain. “All’s right; let’s go and turn in.”
Dutch followed him down the cabin stairs, and the deck was left to the watch.
For quite half an hour all was perfectly still, except when some strange forest cry arose, and then two figures stole softly out from under the bulwarks, and went forward, to find that Dick Rolls had joined his fellow-watcher for company’s sake.
That was sufficient. The next minute the falls were seized, and the little dingy which hung from the davits was softly lowered into the water; two men slid down the ropes, unhooked the boat as it rose with the swell, and, without attempting to use the sculls, let the current drift them slowly away into the bank of darkness that closed the vessel round.
Before dawn every man was on deck waiting for the rising of the sun, for there was not one who did not look forward with great excitement to the coming day, which might bring large wealth to some, and to all an increase of pay, besides which there was a certain fascination in the search. The mystery and uncertainty of the adventure had their charms, while to the more ignorant there was a thrill of excitement in the superstition with which their minds mingled the project. Those who had in their lives toiled hard to obtain the treasure must, they felt, return to the place in spirit where it was lost, and try to guard it from sacrilegious touch.
The subject had been well discussed in the forecastle, and there was hardly one who did not feel the childlike desire, mingled with dread, that is felt by the ignorant over some ghost story—the shrinking and the desire to know.
It was, indeed, felt to be an eventful morning, and Mr Parkley looked pale as he stood on deck in the cool grey mist talking to Dutch, and wondering whether good fortune was to attend their venture. As for Oakum and ’Pollo, they, too, were both on their mettle, for on them depended a good deal; while old Rasp also appeared among the excited group on deck, where he had been seen but little during the voyage after the first few days, for he had spent most of his time below, polishing helmets and oiling and re-oiling valves in the cabin he shared with Oakum, and where they had squabbled and disagreed all through the voyage.
There was a complete change in Rasp as he came up to where his employers stood, for his listless way was thrown off, and a look of importance overspread his features as he gave a side glance at Oakum, which plainly said, “There, your reign is over, and mine has begun.”
“Shall I be getting up the tackle, Mr Pug?” he said, “so as to be well ready.”
“No, Rasp, we shall not want you yet,” replied Dutch. “Wait till we get to the spot.”
Oakum gave a chuckle which made Rasp turn upon him angrily; but the old fellow’s face was as hard and solid as if carved out of wood, and with not the vestige of a smile thereon; but ’Pollo, who stood close by, was showing his white teeth to the fullest extent.
“What are you grinning at, old ebony?” snarled Rasp, glad to have somebody upon whom he could turn.
“I just tink, sah, dat as I go to be berry busy find de treasure ship ’long o’ Mass’ Oakum, you like to come and ’joy yourself, poke de galley fire all day.”
“Yah!” ejaculated Rasp, angrily; and he walked to the side, and began spitting viciously at the rippling waves under the schooner’s counter.
“How is it that boat’s down in the water?” exclaimed the captain, suddenly, as he crossed to where the dingy was swinging by her painter.
“I left her hanging to the davits last night,” said the mate. “Do you know, Oakum?”
“Wasn’t my watch,” said that worthy, “but the skipper’s. Dick, ’Pollo, and Bob Lennie was on deck for one spell.”
“Do you know why the boat was lowered?” said the captain, turning to the men, who had just left their hammocks.
Bob Lennie the quiet shook his head, and Dick Rolls’ eyes nearly disappeared under the thick bridge of his nose as he stared down with his head first on one side, then on the other.
“No, I dunno,” he growled. “I never knowed it was lowered.”
The question was passed round, but no one knew anything about it; and the men shook their heads, and seemed to think it was very mysterious.
For there seemed to be no reason why it should have been let down. Had it been missing altogether, and a man or two with it, the cause would have been plain; but every man of the crew was on deck, and one and all denied knowledge of the boat having been touched.
This excited the suspicion of the captain again; but the busy events of the morning chased the feeling away, and it was soon forgotten.
For Sam Oakum was to all intents and purposes now captain of the schooner, and ’Pollo his mate, as the former took the direction, had the anchor heaved up, and, consulting again and again with the latter, the vessel was allowed to drift with the current a few hundred yards.
“Do you feel pretty certain, Oakum?” said the captain, after a time, for the old sailor’s actions did not inspire him with much confidence. In fact, after running half a mile with the current, he suddenly gave orders for a couple of sails to be hoisted, put the schooner about, and began to beat back.
“You let me alone,” growled Oakum. “I’m a-doing the best I can. You see, it’s a good many years since I was here, and the bearings ar’n’t so fresh in my mem’ry as they was.”
The captain said nothing, only glanced at Dutch, who had heard every word, and as the eyes of these two met they seemed to say to one another, “Suppose that this—trust of ours should be a foolish one, after all.”
Mr Parkley went up to Oakum once and spoke, but he received so sharp a reply that the old fellow was left alone. It was evident that he was a good deal puzzled, for in the course of an hour he renewed his quid of tobacco half-a-dozen times, and literally scraped the perspiration off his face with his rough finger, as he stood by the wheel giving directions to the man who was steering.
It was a most interesting time to all on board; the passengers were on deck, and even listless John Studwick stood leaning over the bulwarks, with his eyes brightening, and Mr Wilson and the doctor seemed to be as eager as the rest to find the buried treasure. Even the mulatto and the black sailor seemed roused from their slow-going apathy, and watched Oakum as he changed the course of the vessel from time to time, running amongst rocks, now close in shore, and once so near to a point that the waving cocoanut and other palms almost touched the rigging, and Captain Studwick stood ready to seize the wheel himself, for it seemed as if the schooner would be run aground.
If the thirst for gold had been less strong, no one there could have failed to revel in the beauty of the scene; for now, in the ever-increasing heat of the morning sunshine, the black mystery of the forest seemed to be swept away, and they gazed upon a belt of wondrously tinted green, with leafage of every variety and shape, seen beyond a narrow strip of golden sand, while sometimes, where rock took the place of the sand, the strange tropic trees waved right over the limpid sea which washed their roots. So close were they at times that the very veins of the great leaves could be traced, and the beauty of the various tints and lovely flowers of parasitic growth, which climbed up and then hung down their great trumpet-shaped bells with lavish prodigality to swing in the hot breeze, was reflected in the little creeks and inlets of the coast.
Wilson was in raptures, and wanted to form an expedition directly to go in pursuit of the gorgeously-feathered birds that came down to the edge of the forest, and then, uttering strange cries, flitted back into its shades. John Studwick looked earnestly at the leafy paradise, with its brilliant blossoms, and longed to lie and dream away his hours in the delicious shade, and even the doctor ceased to watch intently every motion of Bessy Studwick, and gazed with delight at the beauteous scene.
But there was the adverse side to the beautiful picture; for here and there in the inlets black, rugged, weird-looking forms could be seen lying apparently asleep on the sand, but ready to scuffle back into the water on the vessel’s approach—alligators looking as dangerous as loathsome. There were dangers, too, in the sharp-edged rocks, around which the pale blue sea rose and fell so placidly; and a score of times it seemed as if the schooner’s planks must be pierced by the sharp points that were so threateningly near. Always, however, in the most threatening times, a turn of the wheel sufficed to send the graceful vessel clear, and so skilfully was she handled that Captain Studwick grew more satisfied on that point, as he felt doubts of Oakum’s other knowledge grow stronger every hour.
His doubts were shared, too, by Dutch and Mr Parkley, and it was very evident that he was at fault, for ’Pollo was severely snubbed upon several occasions when he hazarded a remark, and the men began to talk in whispers as they saw the schooner retrace her path again and again.
“Can’t you find it, Oakum?” said Dutch at last, as he dragged his eyes from the group composed of his young wife, Bessy Studwick, and her brother, all seated in the mellow shade cast by an awning; for the sun was now sending down a shower of silvery, white-hot arrows upon the deck.
“Don’t you be in such a mighty fuss, Mr Dutch,” was the tetchy reply. “These here things ain’t done in a hurry. I’m a-working as hard as ever I can; its hereabouts somewhere, on’y the bearings don’t seem to be the same.”
“Can I be of any assistance to you?” said Dutch.
“Yes; just get out of the way, sir. There, be smart ahead there. Be ready to let go the anchor when I cry let go.”
As he spoke he gave the man he had placed for the time at the wheel an impatient look, took the spokes in hand himself, ran the vessel in towards the shore, then gave the word; there was a dull splash, the chain rattled out through the hawse-holes, and was stopped; the sails flapped and shivered in the gentle breeze, and the schooner softly swung round, with a motion hardly perceptible, till she lay with her head to the current, now so slow that its effects on the vessel could hardly be seen.
“Is this the place, then?” cried Mr Parkley, eagerly, as he ran to peer over the side, where half the men were already similarly engaged.
“No ’taint,” said Sam, crossly, as he let go the spokes, and, taking off his straw hat, began scratching his bald head in a vicious way. “It’s somewhere about here, but the bearings is altered. There was four tall cocoanut trees on a bluff, and you had to bring them in a line with a bit o’ rock sticking out o’ the water like a wet monkey, and they’re gone.”
“But are you sure this was the piece of coast line?” said the captain, rather sternly.
“Course I am. This is one of the places, and there’s two more—one on ’em ashore, ’bout fifty miles from here.”
“Had we not better try that first?” said Dutch.
“What’s the good o’ your talking like that, sir, when you’ve brought diving things o’ purpose to go down? No, I ain’t half done yet. Here, I’ve finished my bacco; some ’un lend me a bit.”
The mate handed him some, and Sam stood staring about, while the men were evidently laughing at his failure.
“Think, Mass’ Oakum, sah—”
“No, you don’t,” said Sam, who wanted some one on whom to vent his spleen. “You don’t think, and you never did think, and never will with that thick skull of yours. So hold your tongue.”
’Pollo held his tongue, put all the little nose he had in the air, and stalked off with great dignity to his galley.
“What do you propose doing?” said Captain Studwick.
“Lower down the jolly-boat,” said Sam, after indulging in another good scratch.
This was immediately done, and with four men at the oars, and Dutch, Mr Parkley, the captain, and Oakum for freight they pushed off from the schooner.
Oakum took his place in the bows with Dutch, and then, directing the men to row very softly as he directed, they went slowly forward over the limpid waters.
“You keep a good lookout over the side, Mr Dutch Pugh,” said Sam, “and I’ll do the same. It’s so clear that you can see seven or eight fathoms down; and if you see anything particular, give the word, and we’ll stop.”
Heedless of the blazing sun—which, however, made their task very easy, lighting up, as it did, the clear waters below—they zigzagged for hours in all directions from the schooner, seeing below groves and trees of coral of the most wondrous tints, among which darted and played fish banded with gold, vermilion, and azure, silvery-sided, olive, green, and blue of the brightest and every tint. Great shells, almost as gay in colour, were slowly kept in motion by their inhabitants as they crawled over the surface of the many-hued rocks. Shoals of fish played amongst the moving seaweeds, and then flashed away like some brilliant silver firework as the shadow of the boat approached them, its shape being plainly seen on the sand below; and on every side new objects of beauty came into sight. Treasures of natural history there were of every kind, but not the treasure they sought; and at last, worn out with heat and disappointment, Mr Parkley proposed that they should return.
“What an opportunity,” thought Dutch, as, after a growling protest, Sam Oakum seated himself in the bottom of the boat and began viciously to cut off a wedge of tobacco—“what an opportunity we have given those on board for a rising, if there are any suspicious characters there.” And then his heart leaped and his hand involuntarily sought his pistol as he thought of his wife and the danger to which she would be exposed.
“Suppose,” he thought, as he shaded his eyes with his hand, and gazed at the distant vessel, “those two scoundrels should assume the command, and set us at defiance, we could never get back on board.”
Me shuddered as these thoughts gained stronger power over him, and looked from one to the other; but it was evident that no such thoughts troubled them, for as the oars of the four sailors lazily dipped, and made the water flash and sparkle, he could see that his companions, listless with the heat, were leaning back and troubled more with disappointment about the failure.
“Look here everybody,” cried Sam, suddenly, in a voice that, heard in that wonderful solitude, made every one start. “I’m not beat, you know; not a bit of it. Them there ships is to be found—what’s left of ’em—and I’m going to find ’em.”
“I hope you are, Oakum,” said the captain, quietly; “but don’t boast. The first effort has not been a successful one.”
“I never said as I’d find ’em the first time,” said Sam, sharply. “’Taint likely as a man’s going to sail a ship thousands o’ miles and put her right on the spot. You wait a bit.”
No one answered; and, to Dutch’s great delight, they were soon back on board, to find everybody half asleep, and no sign whatever of danger; and though far from being disposed to greet his wife in the old way, he felt, in spite of himself, obliged to say a few kind words as she pressed forward to meet him, her eager eyes telling of her joy to see him back. Then he shrank away with a frown, for it seemed to him that the mulatto was watching them curiously, though the second time he glanced at the man he was busy arranging a brightly-coloured kerchief over his head, before leaning back against the bulwark with half-closed eyes.
Nothing had taken place in their absence, and a dead calm had fallen. The heat was excessive, for not the faintest breath of air came from land or sea; but the beauty of the surroundings seemed to have its effect upon all, even to the lowest sailor; for as the evening came on, and the stars were lighted aloft, there was a dreamy delight in the darkening forest shore, where fireflies flitted; and once more strange whisperings, rustlings of trees, and splashes in the water were heard. But they did not excite the superstitious dread of the previous night; and at last, when most careful arrangements had been made by Captain Studwick to guard against internal and external surprise, watch was set, and the silence of death seemed to tall upon the schooner.
Story 1--Chapter XVII.
The Protectors of the Treasure.
That night passed away quietly enough, after a discussion as to future proceedings, when it had been decided to leave Sam Oakum to his own devices; for they were so solely dependent upon his success that it would have been folly to interfere.
“It was easy enough at Ramwich to talk about sweeping the sea till we found what we sought,” said Mr Parkley, dolefully; “but now we are here it seems as if we might hunt for our lifetimes without success.”
“And yet that scoundrel discovered the old wrecks,” said Dutch, firmly. “What one man has done another can do. For my part, now we are out upon the adventure, I mean to stop till we succeed.”
Mr Parkley patted him on the back, and looked up smilingly at him; and Dutch’s words seemed to impart spirit to all present.
Sam Oakum had insisted upon taking the first watch, declaring that he was not tired, and wanted to think; and the consequence was that the sun was well up before he put in an appearance on deck after his breakfast.
“Now, Oakum,” said Captain Studwick, rather impatiently, “what do you propose doing? Shall we up anchor and run along the coast a little way, and then anchor and have a fresh search?”
Sam did not reply, for he had his cake of tobacco in one hand and his knife in the other, and he was going to take a piece off for his morning refreshment. But knife and cake remained unemployed as his attention seemed fixed by something ashore. Then the cake was thrust back into one pocket, the knife closed with a snap and thrust back into the other, and he took a glance round.
The ship was now swinging in a different direction to that which it had occupied on the previous day, and this seemed to puzzle Sam for the moment. The tide was low, too, and that made a difference in the surroundings—rocks standing clear of the water that were invisible before, and there was a ravine opened out that was not visible on the previous day.
“She’s dragged her anchor a bit, hasn’t she?” said Sam, at last.
“No,” said the captain, “we were too close to those rocks, so I up with the anchor this morning, and let her drift a couple of hundred yards before dropping it again.”
“Just hand us that double-barrel spyglass o’ yourn, Mr Pugh, will you please?” said Oakum quietly; and when he had set it to the right focus for his eyes, he took a long look at the shore, shut the glass up, returned it, sat down on the deck, and taking out his tobacco and knife hewed off a good piece of the hard cake, and thrust it into his mouth without a word.
“Well, Mr Oakum,” said the captain, at last, with a look of annoyance on his face, “what is to be done next?”
“Send forrard for ’Pollo,” said Sam, coolly.
The captain gave an impatient stamp, but turning to the mulatto, who was by the bulwark, sent him for the black cook.
“You want me, sah?” exclaimed ’Pollo, showing his white teeth.
“So I do, ’Pollo,” said Sam, borrowing the glass again from Dutch, and, after focussing it, placing it flat on the bulwarks, and bringing it to bear on some object ashore. “Now, come here, ’Pollo,” he continued; “stoop down and take a squint through this here glass, and tell us what you see.”
’Pollo stooped down to look through the glass.
“Not that way, you lubber,” cried Sam. “What are you shutting one eye up for? Don’t you see it’s a double spyglass?”
“Oh, yes, sah—I see, sah,” said ’Pollo, bending down for another look.
“Now you’re a-shutting up tother eye,” cried Sam, sharply.
“Was I, sah? Well, so I tink I was. Now, den, I try bofe open togedder. Dat’s him; I see beauful now. All de lubbly trees shinin’ in de sun, and four big long trees lie down top o’ one anoder. All blow down by de wind.”
“And what’s that, ’Pollo?” cried Sam, giving him a slap on the back, as he pointed to a rock lying under the shade of a point right aft.
“Dat am de rock like de wet monkey, Mass’ Oakum, sah. Dere, genelmen, I tell you I find de place easy ’nough.”
“Don’t you think it might be me as has found it?” said Sam, with a grim laugh. “There, gentlemen, I couldn’t answer for those trees being blown down by a hurricane. I looked out for them to take my bearings, and they were gone. I must have seen the rock, too, at low water.”
“Then you think we are near the place?” cried Dutch, eagerly.
“Well, sir,” said Oakum coolly, “I won’t be too cocksure to a foot or two in a few thousand miles; but if the capen here will send out a kedge anchor in the boat, and drop it about a dozen fathoms towards that rock to port there, and haul upon it till the schooner’s bowsprit pynts dead for them two rocks, so as we has them in a line, I’ll eat my hat if we ain’t right over some part or other of the old wreck.”
A dead silence ensued for a few moments as if every man’s breath was taken away, and then giving his orders sharply a little anchor was lowered down into the jolly-boat; and to Mr Jones was given the task of carrying out the manoeuvre. This was soon done—the anchor dropped over the boat’s side with a splash, taking firm hold directly, and then the hawser was hauled upon by the men on board, till the position of the schooner was altered so that she lay with her bowsprit pointing right across the two rocks indicated by Oakum.
“That will do,” the latter shouted—“not another foot. Make fast.”
Story 1--Chapter XVIII.
Over the Treasure.
The hawser was secured and, as the jolly-boat lay alongside, a second small anchor was lowered into her, and carried out and dropped on the other side, the rope hauled taut and made fast, and the schooner now moored in a position which the light current could not affect, though a storm would doubtless have made the anchors drag.
“That’s my job ’bout done, capen and Mr Parkley, sire. I said as I’d put the schooner over the spot; and there she is.”
“But do you really think, Oakum—” began Mr Parkley.
“I don’t think nothing, sir. There’s the place and that ’ere’s the rock as ’Pollo dived off into the deep water. Ain’t it, ’Pollo?”
“Dat’s true, sah,” cried the black, laughing boisterously.
“Then its ’bout time I browt up the helmets and things, eh?” said Rasp, who had been looking on with inquiring eye.
“Not yet, Rasp,” exclaimed Dutch, who now hurried to the side, and peered down into the brightly illumined depths, an example followed by the captain and half the crew.
The result was disappointing, and Dutch and Mr Parkley descended into the boat, waiting till it was perfectly motionless, and then making use of a large tube which they thrust some feet down into the water, and gazed intently at the rocks, sands, and wonders of the sea below.
This process they followed up as they slowly shifted the boat round from place to place; and each time that Dutch looked up to answer some question from the deck it was to encounter the sinister face of the mulatto, with the scar plainly marked in the sunlight, gazing intently down. For the matter of that so was the face of ’Pollo, the other black, and the rest of the crew; but the countenance of the mulatto alone seemed to strike him, for the peculiarity of its looks, and the eagerness with which, in a partial way, its owner seemed to watch his every action.
“Well, gentlemen,” said John Studwick, in a half-mocking way, “can you see the El Dorado through that piece of brass pipe?”
“Not yet,” said Dutch, quietly. And he went on with his research, seeing fish as brilliant as any he had before noticed, rocks covered with olive green and scarlet weed, that floated out and played in the water, many yards in length; great stones covered with shells and acorn barnacles; sea anemones, whose petals were more delicately beautiful than any flowers he had beheld; but no trace of old ship timber, in the shape of ribs, stern-post, keel, or stem. Nothing but sand, rock, and seaweed; and at last the two sat up in the boat and looked at one another.
“What’s the good o’ you humbugging?” said Rasp, on deck, to self-satisfied Oakum, who stood leaning his back against the bulwark, and staring at the landmarks by which he had found the spot.
“Who’s humbugging?” said Oakum, roughly.
“Why, you. It’s all sham. There ain’t no wreck below there.”
“Bah! How do you know?” growled Oakum. “I know there is, but don’t say as there ain’t been no one near and cleaned it out.”
Hester was standing close by, and heard all this. Her face flushed with anxiety, and her heart rose and fell, as she eagerly listened to the opinions expressed, and thought of the bitter disappointment Dutch would feel if the search was without success.
Just then her husband said something hastily, which drew the attention of all on board; and taking hold of a rope, she leaned forward to try and catch a glimpse of what was going forward, when she started back with a faint cry of alarm, for a pair of burning lips were placed upon her hand, and as she snatched it away, and faced round it was to meet the glittering eyes of the mulatto fixed upon her, with so fiercely intense a gaze that she shrank away trembling, but not before he had whispered to her—
“Silence, if you value your life!”
She felt sick with horror as the man glided away, for the tones of his voice seemed familiar, and her very first impulse was to call her husband; but the mulatto’s words had such an effect upon her, weakened as she was with long illness, that she dared not speak even to Bessy, to whose side she crept as an eager buzz of conversation went on.
For, after sitting thoughtfully in the boat for a few minutes, Dutch had leaned over the side once more, placing his face in the water, and gazed down at the beautiful submarine grove, when he saw a long, grey body pass slowly out from amongst the weeds, and woke to the fact that there were sharks in those waters, this creature being fourteen or fifteen feet long.
He shuddered at the sight, and thought of the helplessness of any diver if one of these monsters attacked him. He raised his face to breathe, and then looked down again, to see the monster part a bed of seaweed, and as it did so his past troubles were forgotten in the thrill of delight he felt: for Oakum was certainly right as to the wreck. As the shark glided slowly on, it parted the weeds more and more, leaving bare, plainly to be seen, what looked like a stump standing out of the sand, but which his experienced eye knew at once to be one of the ribs of a ship, black with age where it was not grey with barnacles and other shells.
He rose from the water again, with his face dripping, inhaled a long breath, and once more softly stooped and peered down into the clear, ambient depths, where the waving seaweed and multitudinous growths seemed ever changing their colours as they waved gently in the current.
The weed parted by the shark had closed up together once more, and not a vestige seemed left of the piece of wreck wood; in fact, it might have been a dream, only that close by where he had seen it before, half-hidden in the weed, lay the shark, its long, unequal-lobed tail waving slightly to and fro a few moments, and then the monster was perfectly still—so quiet that the sharpest eye would have passed it unnoticed, so exactly was its back in hue like the sand upon which it lay.
But Dutch knew, dreamer as he had been, that this was no piece of imagination; and taking the tube once more, and recalling the peculiar bend of the piece of timber, he began again to examine the bottom, especially the portion that lay in the shadow cast by the schooner’s hull. According to the bend of the timber, he knew that the wreck, if wreck it belonged to, must be lying in the opposite direction to the schooner; and, tracing its imaginary shape, he concluded that there must be a succession of ribs embedded in the sand, though not visible in the lines he marked out with his eye.
And so it seemed, for as he looked he could make out that the weeds lay in thick clusters in the position they should occupy if they were attached to the timbers of an old ship. Huge corals were there as well, forming quite a submarine forest, but evidently they took the form of a ship where they were most dense; and, to Dutch’s great surprise, the vessel must have been one of nearly double the size of the schooner.
“See anything?” said Mr Parkley, as the young man rose for a few minutes and wiped his brow.
“Yes,” said Dutch, bluntly. “Shark!”
“Ah, there are plenty, no doubt,” said Mr Parkley.
But Dutch did not hear him, for he was once more eagerly trying to trace out in the weeds the shape of the old galleon.
Yes, there it was, undoubtedly; and, to make assurance doubly sure, another shark slowly glided out, about thirty feet to the left of where Dutch saw the first, setting the weeds in motion, and displaying, black and grey with encrustations, three more of the nearly buried ribs of an old ship.
With this help to locality, he could now make out plainly where the galleon lay, and see that she must have been nearly a hundred feet long, and that her stem had struck on the mass of rocks described as those off which ’Pollo had dived; while her stern lay off behind the boat in the dense forest of sea growth. And as Dutch looked on he became more and more aware of the fact that there were watchers over the treasure—if treasure there was—in the shape of sharks. He had already seen two, and now, dimly visible in their lairs, lay no less than five more, of which he could just make out a fin of one, the snout of another, the tail of another, and so on, one gliding slowly out into the sunshine, turning right over so as to show its white belly and great teeth-armed jaws, before dashing after a shoal of bright-coloured fish which had tempted him from his lair.
So powerful were the strokes of the monster’s tail that the water was all of a quiver, and the long strands of the seaweed waved and undulated to and fro, displaying here and there more blackened stumps, and showing how possible it was for anyone to sail a boat over the wreck a hundred times without catching a glimpse or dreaming of its existence.
“Well,” said Mr Parkley, “when you’re tired of shark-gazing, we may as well go on board.”
There was only one man of the crew looking over the side now, and that was the mulatto, who, with half-closed eyes, lazily watched their actions; the others, finding the business uninteresting, having adjourned to the shade.
“I’m ready to go on board,” said Dutch, quietly. “When shall we begin work?”
“Oh, at once. Let’s ask Studwick to weigh anchor, and try one of the other places. Ah, my lad, I’m afraid I let my anger get the better of my judgment. We shall do nothing without the cursed Cuban.”
“Think not?” said Dutch, with a smile.
“I am sure of it,” said Mr Parkley. “How can we hunt over the whole of this sea? It would be madness.”
“I meant get to work with the apparatus,” said Dutch, smiling.
“What are you laughing at?” said Mr Parkley, impatiently.
“At your despondency,” replied Dutch. “Old Oakum was right. The schooner’s lying right athwart the galleon.”
“What!” cried Mr Parkley, excitedly. “Nonsense!—you are half-mad.”
“Over some things, perhaps,” said Dutch, gloomily; “but sane enough over this. Mind, I don’t say that there is any treasure there, but the old fellow has anchored us right across an old wreck.”
“Give me that tube,” cried Mr Parkley, and he thrust it down into the water excitedly, looking in all directions.
“There’s nothing there,” he cried. “I examined that place before.”
“But it did not occur to us that the weeds had grown up and hidden the timbers. Now you watch that clump lying just under the schooner’s keel. Do you see what I mean?”
“Yes, I see.”
“Then keep your eye upon it,” said Dutch, as he crept softly to the bows of the jolly-boat, and, taking one of half-a-dozen great boulders that were used for ballast, he heaved it overboard with a good splash, and then watched its effects.
As he expected, from half-a-dozen weed masses out darted as many sharks, to make a dash at the stone as it descended rapidly through the clear water, and first one and then another turned over to show its white under-parts before going away sulkily and in disgust.
“Well, what did you see?” said Dutch.
“Sharks! Ugh, the beasts!” exclaimed Mr Parkley, with a shudder.
“What else?”
“Rough stumps of timber amongst the weeds.”
“Timbers of the old galleon, no doubt, preserved by the shelly concretions that have formed upon them and held them together.”
“But it’s impossible, my dear boy. No man dare go down there; the sharks would rend him limb from limb. Who could go down?”
“I shall, for one,” said Dutch, calmly. “So now let’s get on board.”
They climbed the side, and, as the news of their discovery spread through the ship, the excitement became great. Rasp began to bring up helmets and leaden weights, and ordered a couple of the men to come and assist with the air-pump, which had to be got up from below.
“But, my dear Dutch,” exclaimed Mr Parkley, in despair, “it is impossible—no one can go down.”
“Not at present,” said Dutch, smiling, as he looked round and saw that nearly everybody was gazing over the side. “Perhaps, when I have set the example, Rasp will not mind following it.”
“But the sharks, my dear boy—they would tear you to pieces.”
“Let them, if they can,” said Dutch, grimly. “I’m not going to be deterred from the search by a few sharks. And if, as you say, I was torn to pieces,” he added, bitterly, “what then?”
“I tell you I shall not let you risk your life,” said Mr Parkley, firmly.
“And I tell you I shall go down. If anything happens—”
“That sweet little woman will be a widow,” said Mr Parkley.
“And who would care?” said Dutch, bitterly. “My dear Mr Parkley, we are anchored over the treasure, and sharks or no sharks, torn to pieces or left alone, I go down—Hester!”
He started and turned sharply round, just in time to catch the fainting woman as she was falling senseless on the deck.