CHAPTER VI.
STILL THE GOLD FLOWS IN.
Everything seemed to be going Jack’s way.
With this enormous treasure in his hands he could not feel otherwise than triumphant.
Then there was Hunston completely in his power.
It seemed as if Young Jack Harkaway’s troubles were surely ended, but they were not.
Without being aware of it, Jack had another and startling experience to pass through, and the time for it to begin had now come.
The Catamaran was slowly making her way up the Red Sea, when a very unusual thing occurred.
The Catamaran ran into a fog.
Fogs are seldom encountered on the Red Sea.
Jack and Harry were sitting on deck talking, Clara was asleep in the cabin, and Mole and Monday were asleep on deck.
It was unpleasantly hot—quite suffocating in fact, and yet Jack and Harry managed to fall asleep too.
The truth was they had slept but little the night before and were pretty well tired out.
All at once one of the Arabs shook Jack by the shoulder.
He started up amazed to find that he had slept, and still more amazed to find that the Catamaran was enveloped in a thick fog.
Mole stood right behind the man.
“Come, Jack, wake up,” he said. “This is no time for snoozing. We are in a lot of trouble here.”
Jack was wide awake in an instant.
“What’s the matter?” he demanded.
“The matter is, we have run into a fog bank, and the captain don’t know which way to go.”
“Let him drop anchor and stay where he is then,” replied Jack, punching Harry, who was equally surprised at the condition of things when he awoke.
“He has already done that,” replied Mole; “but there seems to be no sign of the fog lifting. Are we to stay here forever? For my part, I’d like to be getting on.”
“Come, professor, what’s the matter with you?” laughed Jack. “Why this sudden interest in our affairs? Usually you are willing to stick to your cards and your bottle. Why not do so now?”
“Somebody has got to be on guard,” retorted Mole. “When the master sleepeth, it behooves the man to be wide awake.”
“That’s all right; we won’t go to sleep again. Return to your mutton, Mole, I’ll look after things now.”
Mole stumped away in some vexation.
He felt that he had been extra vigilant, and consequently also felt a little called down.
Jack now questioned the captain about the situation.
He found that the fog was liable to last for several days.
“This is a bad business,” said Harry. “I don’t want to stay here forever any more than Mole.”
“We don’t have to,” replied Jack. “Take my word for it, this fog bank don’t amount to anything great. I believe we could work out of it if we struck off to the eastward. It looks light over there.”
“We better not try it with the Catamaran,” said Harry; “first we know we shall run ashore—we are too near the Arabian coast to take any risk.”
“I don’t believe a word of it,” said Jack; “but if you think so, of course I can’t insist.”
“I do think so, but I can’t prove that I am right.”
“Well, then, I can prove my position.”
“How?”
“By taking a boat and pulling to the eastward. It’s my earnest belief that the fog don’t extend more than a few hundred yards.”
“It would be mere madness. Suppose you were not able to get back again?”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Do you really mean to say you are going?”
“I do. I am determined.”
Harry looked amazed.
He urged Jack most earnestly to change his mind.
But Jack would hear to nothing of the sort.
Once his mind was made up to do a certain thing, there was no turning him from his purpose.
Harry was too well aware of this to waste much time over the matter.
“If you are resolved to go then I am going too,” he declared.
“That’s all right,” said Jack. “We’ll both go. You’ll find that I am entirely correct; we’ll be back in no time, and then we’ll move the Catamaran beyond the fog belt and go on our way rejoicing.”
“Better tell Clara or Mole or somebody that you are going.”
“No, no! There’s no need of disturbing them! We’ll push right along and have something definite to tell them when we get back.”
So they launched the boat and pulled away.
Jack felt great confidence in the Arab captain, and it was well founded.
There are a few Arabs who are honest, and Jack had found one. The captain was a man to be depended upon in every way.
He instructed Jack to blow a small ivory whistle which he usually carried, every few moments, and he would whistle in return.
The arrangement worked well.
The signals were given and answered, but they did not get out of the fog.
On the contrary, it seemed to grow thicker as they advanced.
“Come,” said Harry, at last; “this won’t do. We really must get back.”
“Just a little farther, dear boy,” replied Jack. “I am sure it is growing lighter.”
The words were scarcely spoken when a dark, black mass loomed up before them, and the keel of the boat grated on the sand.
“Well, by Jove!” cried Harry, “you were right! Here we are on the Arabian shore, hard and fast.”
“That’s what it is,” said Jack. “Shall we go back, or shall we make a landing and find out what we’ve struck?”
“Let’s go ashore first, if it is only for a minute or two. That seems to be a hill; perhaps if we could get to the top we might see something to the eastward; it certainly does look lighter over there now.”
They pulled the boat high up on the sand, and walked toward the dark mass which loomed up dimly through the mists.
“By gracious, it’s a house!” cried Jack; “that’s what it is!”
“A castle, rather.”
“You are right!”
“Strange! It seems to be a very ancient affair.”
“Ancient or mediaeval; half in ruins, too.”
They walked on around the strange old stone structure, scarcely daring to enter the dark doorway, for neither of them had the least desire for further adventures, particularly if they were going to delay their journey to Suez.
When they got around on the other side, they discovered that they were on an island, and a very small one at that.
The sea was all around them; as for the fog, it was apparently beginning to break.
“There won’t be much of it left in half an hour, if I know anything,” remarked Jack. “I’ll give the captain the whistle again to let him know that we are all right.”
“I wouldn’t,” said Harry.
“Why not?”
“Why, we don’t know what the effect may be—perhaps there is someone inside there.”
“Pshaw! The place has not been visited in years, if looks go for anything.”
“You can’t tell; however, I see you are determined to whistle all the same.”
“I am, for I see no reason why I shouldn’t—here goes!”
Jack pulled out his whistle and blew a shrill blast.
After waiting a moment the answer came.
“What in the world does that mean?” Harry exclaimed.
“What?” demanded Jack.
“Why the answer to the whistle came from the wrong side of the island—didn’t you hear?”
“I declare you are right. Hark! There it goes again!”
“Yes, and this time from the other side.”
“That’s the captain of the Catamaran.”
“Yes, and the other wasn’t. We’d better hurry up and get out of here.”
“Not till I’ve seen the inside of that castle,” said Jack.
He was determined, so there was no stopping him, although Harry, if he could have had his way, would immediately have left the island and returned to the Catamaran.
Passing through the door they found themselves in a gloomy room, walled up with stone.
From this they passed into another room, and still another.
Then they found a staircase, and ascending, went through four rooms on the upper floor.
They were all rudely furnished in the Arabian style, and seemed to have been but recently vacated.
“It’s another pirates’ nest, I’ll bet a hat,” said Jack.
Harry was about to answer, when he suddenly fell forward and measured his length upon the floor.
“What in the world is the matter with you?” cried Jack. “Are you hurt?”
“Not a bit,” said Harry, picking himself up. “I stubbed my toe against something. Ah, I see—it was this ring.”
The ring in question was about as big round as a saucer. It was attached to a thick staple, imbedded in the big square stones which formed the floor.
Jack got hold of the ring and pulled with all his might.
“Do you think it is a trap-door?” questioned Harry.
“I’m sure of it; but I can’t budge it, just the same. Lay hold here and help me pull it up.”
Harry took hold and they tugged away together.
Up came the stone, proving itself to be a trap door sure enough.
The boys gave a cry of amazement as they glanced down into the opening below the stone.
It was filled with gold.
Coins of every size and description seemed to have been tumbled promiscuously into the hole.
There were thousands of them, and as they were all gold, of course represented a very large sum.
“Well, I declare!” said Jack; “it does seem as though Dame Fortune was determined to heap riches upon us. Never in all my life have I heard of any one striking such a run of luck as we have during the last few days.”
“You propose to take it then?” asked Harry.
“Well, rather, and don’t you forget it.”
“How do you think it came to be here?”
“I haven’t the least doubt in the world that it’s the hoard of another gang of pirates.”
“Looks like it. Can we carry it all?”
“Not in one load, but we can come back again.”
“I guess we may as well go right at it and finish the matter up.”
There seemed to be no good reason why they should hesitate, for here the gold was, and it seemed scarcely probable that any other than the Red Sea pirates could lay claim to the hoard.
So they pulled off their coats and began to fill them with the coins.
“Here, you do the filling and I’ll do the lugging,” said Jack: “that will make things go faster. Get down into the hole, dear boy, and we’ll work as fast as we can, for I don’t care to remain here a moment longer than necessary.”
“Ah! That whistle on the wrong side worried you, did it?” said Harry. “By Jove, I believe you are right! There’ll surely be trouble if we hang around here too long.”
They went to work with a will then.
Four times Jack lugged his coat down to the boat and emptied it of its golden contents.
He was just coming back for the fifth load, for the hole was not more than half emptied, when the splash of oars reached his ears.
A boat was surely approaching the island on the other side.
“By Jove, there’s going to be trouble now!” thought Jack.
He ran back to the castle top speed, and went dashing up the stairs.
“Filled up again, old man,” exclaimed Harry. “There seems to be no end to this thing.”
“The end is coming now!” cried Jack. “Quick! The pirates are upon us!”
“What! You don’t mean it!”
“Fact! There’s a boat coming up on the other side of the island. Let’s light out.”
“Not without this load!” said Harry. “I won’t do it!”
He leaped out of the hole in a hurry, but Jack had already gathered up the coat.
“It’s the last!” he cried. “I don’t want any more trouble. I won’t have it, either, if there is any chance of avoiding it. Come on!”
They went down-stairs as fast as the weight of the gold would permit.
Harry, being light, pushed ahead, and was half out of sight in the mists when Jack reached the door.
“Hold up,” called Jack. “I can’t come so fast as all that. Wait a minute; we don’t want to lose each other in the fog.”
“Come on, then!” cried Harry. “I want to make sure of the boat, anyhow.”
But Jack didn’t, because he couldn’t.
Suddenly a dozen or more men sprang into view around the angles of the castle wall.
They were dressed like Arabs, and were evidently pirates.
Some carried sharp scimetars, and others the old-fashioned, long-barreled guns which the Arabs use.
Of course, being Arabs, they could not engage in an affair of this sort without yelling, and yell they did for all they were worth.
Jack drew his revolver as soon as he could drop the coat, and prepared to defend himself.
It was altogether a useless undertaking.
The Arabs rushed upon him like demons.
In a twinkling he was disarmed and at their mercy.
Jack could not talk to them, although he tried.
They were pirates of another band, who occasionally made their headquarters at the castle.
They knew no more about the gold than Jack himself; their speech was a dialect which he could not understand.
The sight of the gold drove them fairly frantic.
While two held Jack between them, the rest made a wild dash for the gold in the coat.
There was a grand scramble then, all chattering and jabbering like a lot of monkeys.
Still they seemed disposed to be fair with each other, and the division was as nearly equal as they could make it.
The men who held Jack a prisoner got their full share.
It was great luck for them.
Fact was, the gold must have been hidden in the old castle many years before.
Perhaps it was centuries.
As Jack never discovered the truth of the matter, we cannot explain it here.
Once the gold was divided, one of the Arabs approached Jack, and in broken French asked him who he was.
Jack made up a neat little story, to the effect that he was a traveler who had put out in a boat from his steamer, landing on the island.
He added that his boat had drifted away in the fog.
For this he had a reason.
He saw that they had no idea of the presence of the boat, or of Harry being with it.
The fog completely concealed the little cove where it lay.
“Harry will be sure to do something to help me out of this, if I can only gain time,” he thought. “That’s what I want—time! I must fight for it!”
He turned to the big Arab and said:
“Do you want more of that money? I can give it to you if you will promise to let me go away by myself for five minutes.”
The Arab looked at him suspiciously.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“That I know where there is more. Do you suppose I came here for nothing?”
“Ah! You Franks know much. Your book tell you that gold was buried here!”
“Yes.”
“And this is not all?”
“No.”
“Where is the rest?”
“Let me go and I will find it. I will call you then.”
“We go with you.”
“Then I can do nothing. There is a spell to be worked—I must be alone.”
“It will not do; we must be there to see.”
“What foolishness! Can I get off the island?”
The Arab turned to his companions and began to talk.
Of course Jack’s only thought was to reach the boat. For the rest of the gold he did not care.
But his little plan was speedily overturned by Harry.
Girdwood could not rest easy with Jack a prisoner, of course.
He had sneaked up as near as it was safe to come.
Hidden behind the angle of the castle wall, he could both see and hear all that was passing.
“If they find the gold up-stairs, it will drive them so wild that they will kill Jack sure,” he thought. “I must act, even if I risk my own life.”
Harry had two revolvers with him.
They were splendid six-shooters, such as the Arabs had never seen.
“I believe I can down them just with the noise,” he thought. “Anyhow I’ll try it, for they’ll never consent to let Jack go out of their sight.”
So Harry gathered himself up and prepared to act.
Watching his chance when the confab of the noisy Arabs was at its height, he suddenly leaped in among them, a revolver in each hand, firing shot after shot in the air and yelling at the top of his lungs.
He could not have tried a better plan.
Probably there were not three men in the entire band who had ever seen a revolver.
They could not understand it; they thought there must be a dozen men behind Harry, and they scattered like sheep.
This gave Jack his chance.
Of course he had his revolvers, too, but the Arabs had come upon him so suddenly that there had been no chance to draw them.
He did it now in an instant and ran to Harry’s side.
“Make for the boat!” he cried. “You’ve given them the scare! We can do it!”
They ran for dear life, Jack firing as he went.
In a moment they were at the boat.
They seized the gunwale and pushed it off, jumped in, and throwing out their oars, began to pull away.
By this time the pirates had in a measure recovered from their fright.
They began to realize that they had been fooled by one man, and they ran down upon the shore.
It was strange that the fog should lift at that particular moment, but it did.
It showed the pirates the two young men pulling away in their boat.
Just then the sun crept through the mists, its beams striking the gold in the boat.
The result can be imagined.
The pirates saw what they had lost, and began to howl as only a lot of Arabs can.
They threw up their long guns and fired, but the boat was already too far away for that to amount to anything, for Jack and Harry were pulling with all their strength.
“We’re safe,” said Jack. “By Jove, Harry, you did that well! I knew you wouldn’t go back on me, old man.”
“As though I could! I was only watching my chance.”
“And you took it for fair when it came. It takes you to work a thing like that!”
“See, they are making a rush for the other side of the island!”
“After their boat, probably. No matter. There’s the Catamaran; we can surely gain her in time.”
They did, but there was no time to throw away.
The pirates had three boats, it seemed.
Before the boys could get the gold on board and haul up the boat, the pirates were bearing down upon the Catamaran as fast as oars could take them.
For a few moments it looked as if there might be another fight, but the captain got his anchor up, and the Catamaran bore away, driven forward by a fanning breeze.
So by this chance adventure our friends found themselves the richer by many thousands.
The voyage was now resumed.
Young Jack intended to go through the canal and up the Mediterranean.
His intention was to go to Paris for a time and enjoy himself before returning home to settle down.
He had had adventures enough.
His travels had brought him money.
In truth he was a millionaire.
Mole and Monday both wanted rest; his wife Clara craved for it.
Harry Girdwood wanted to return to his family, and the predominant feeling was one in favor of retirement.
Still the temptations of Paris for a few weeks could not be resisted.
It was the middle of the day.
The Catamaran was flying well before the wind.
Hunston had not yet made his appearance.
This was remarkable.
Jack and Harry went to his cabin.
They knocked.
There was no answer.
They endeavored to open the door.
It was securely locked inside.
“What shall we do?” asked Harry.
“Break the door open,” replied Jack, who had a small ax in his hand.
“And then?”
“Take him on deck and make him jump into the sea. That will end him.”
“Are you solid on that?”
“Well, hardly!”
Jack was not vindictive or revengeful.
But sentence of death had been passed upon the latter by a higher power.
Jack broke in the door.
Hunston was seen lying in his bunk, white and rigid.
They touched him.
He was cold.
On a shelf by his side was a bottle labeled “morphine.”
Hunston had indulged in his favorite vice.
On this occasion he had taken an overdose.
The man was dead.
No more would the last of the Hunstons trouble Young Jack Harkaway; they would never meet again.
[THE END]