“Let us sit down,” said Guy, “and take a general survey of the island.”
Though not very high, the hill on which Guy and his friends were seated was of sufficient altitude to command a general view of the entire island. With the exception of this hill, the surface of the island was flat, and it was possible to see its general contour.
In front, at a comparatively short distance, the Osprey rode at anchor.
“It is the sight of the ship that makes me feel comfortable,” said Abner Titcomb, pointing to it.
Through the clear atmosphere they could see distinctly all that passed on board the vessel.
“See,” said Luke Clark, “the captain is pacing the deck with an impatient step. Ten to one he doesn’t enjoy being detained here.”
“I know he doesn’t,” said Guy. “He loses no opportunity to ridicule my search after the treasure, and thinks Mr. Saunders an idiot for the expense he has incurred in chartering the vessel.”
“I don’t see what business it is of his,” said Titcomb. “You, or rather Mr. Saunders, are paying the owners well for the time consumed.”
“True; but he is impatient to go on to Bombay. He asked me if I couldn’t get through my search in three days.”
“What did you say?”
“That this time was entirely insufficient.”
“It is a pity that Captain Grover is not in command.”
“Yes. It would be a great deal more comfortable for me.”
From time to time, as they could see, the captain looked toward the island and then resumed his walk.
“I wonder he doesn’t propose to come on shore and aid you in the search, Guy.”
“I don’t think he cares to have me succeed. For some reason which I don’t understand he appears to have taken a dislike to me.”
“It is partly because you are independent of him. He has authority over all on board the Osprey except ourselves, and this chafes him.”
“I shouldn’t like to be in the power of such a man.”
“Nor I. But for your firmness, Luke and myself would have lost our cabin privileges and been obliged to eat with the sailors.”
“So far as pleasant society is concerned, I should be as willing to keep company with them as with Captain Richmond.”
“I feel the same way, but I was unwilling that the captain should impose on me.”
“Boys,” said Luke Clark, suddenly, “I think we made a mistake in not bringing some water with us. I am beginning to feel thirsty.”
“I shall feel so soon,” said Titcomb. “We may as well hunt for a spring. Thirst is, if anything, harder to bear than hunger.”
“Very well,” said Guy. “Let us make a search.”
They descended the opposite slope of the hill, and in a covert near the bottom found a clear, pellucid spring, from which they dipped water in the hollow of their hands and drank.
There was a slight mineral flavor which was not unpleasant, and all three enjoyed the cooling draughts.
“This is a very important discovery,” said Titcomb, “and would be even more so if we were obliged to remain any length of time on the island. Now, Guy, what shall we do next?”
“Continue our exploration,” said Guy. “This is only the first day, remember.”
“But the captain wants to limit you to three days.”
“Yes; but I have not accepted the limitation. After traveling so many thousand miles, I don’t propose to be hurried.”
“I applaud your pluck, Guy. You have an unusually strong will for a boy of sixteen. From whom do you take it?”
“Not from my father,” answered Guy. “He is altogether too gentle and yielding, and allows himself to be bossed by one of his deacons. Fortunately, I thwarted Deacon Crane in one of his schemes when I was at home.”
“Your father is a minister, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“That accounts for it.”
“I don’t know. Some ministers are quite as fond of having their own way as any of their congregation. However, that isn’t the case with my father.”
“I suppose, Guy, you have some clue to the place where the treasure is concealed?” said Titcomb. “I have not inquired, hitherto, but it seems to me that while we are exploring we may as well keep our eyes open, and perhaps we may chance upon the spot.”
“It is time I told you what I know,” answered Guy. “I am obliged to confess that the directions are not as clear and explicit as I should wish. Yet I think they may be sufficiently so for our purpose.”
“Go ahead, Guy,” said Luke Clark. “I confess that my curiosity is aroused.”
“Then I will tell you all I know.”
Guy took from his pocket a roll of paper, discolored by time, and unfolding it, read this paragraph:
“There is a place on the island where six trees are arranged (by nature) in the shape of a cross, as this drawing will show.
o
o o o
o
o
“Between the second and third of these trees, counting from the top downward, the pirate’s treasure is concealed. A large cavity was dug out, and in this was placed a sailor’s chest, in which are stored gold, silver, and jewels, besides a considerable amount in bank notes—some English, some French, and some American. As to the value of these treasures, no one knew anything except the captain, and possibly even he was uninformed.”
“There is more,” added Guy, “but this is all that is of importance.”
Abner Titcomb and Luke Clark listened thoughtfully.
“That seems a pretty good clue,” said Abner, at length. “It is hardly likely that there will be more than one group of trees arranged in the shape of a cross.”
“You are, no doubt, right.”
“I move that we use our eyes as we go along. We may come upon this cross this very day.”
“I wish we might.”
“If we do, we may conclude that we have succeeded in our quest, even if we do not dig at once for the treasure.”
“Yes.”
“I shall feel more interest in our walk now, as we shall have an object in view.”
“It seems to me,” said Guy, “that the pirates might easily have selected a place more difficult to find.”
“I don’t know about that. Of course, now that we have the clue, it seems simple, but otherwise how could we be led to suppose that the treasure would be hidden there rather than in any other place? All puzzles are easy when you have found out the key to them.”
After this the party naturally confined their explorations to the wooded part of the island. Somewhere among this multitude of trees were to be found the six trees arranged in the shape of a cross.
“It seems as if it ought to be easy to find,” said Guy.
“Yes; but you must remember that the woods, besides running back for perhaps three or four miles, reach nearly across the island in breadth. It may be a long and tedious search, after all.”
“But I don’t think we can fail to succeed at last.”
“Yet it may be a matter of weeks before we find the cross.”
“At any rate we have the clue. It does not require sharpness, only patience.”
When midday came all felt hungry, and they sat down to eat the provisions they had brought with them.
As they had discovered water nowhere else, they were obliged to work their way back to the spring which they had originally chanced upon.
“It is a pity that we didn’t bring a pail with us to hold water, so that we need not have been obliged to retrace our footsteps.”
“We shall know better how to manage to-morrow.”
The three explorers wandered about till they were very tired, and a full hour before the time set they were on the beach waiting for the boat to carry them back to the Osprey. They were seen from the vessel, and in a few minutes they were on board again.
“Well,” said Captain Richmond, addressing Guy, “what have you accomplished?”
“We have discovered a spring and explored a part of the island.”
“Have you found the treasure?”
“Not yet,” answered Guy.
“So I supposed,” returned the captain, with a sneer.
He said nothing more, but he had succeeded in making Guy feel uncomfortable.
The program for the next day was like that of the first, except that no time was spent on a general exploration of the island.
The impatience shown by Captain Richmond made Guy fear that unless the treasure were speedily found he would object to staying longer. Of course, this would be in violation of the agreement he had made with the owners, but there was no court to enforce that agreement, and if the captain should, in his obstinacy, decide to sail away, the whole object of the expedition would be lost, or, at any rate, indefinitely deferred.
Therefore, on reaching the island in the morning, Guy and his two friends immediately set about searching for the six trees arranged in the shape of a cross. It did not seem that it would be difficult to find them, but nevertheless three more days slipped away, and at the end of that time they were no nearer success than before.
Even Guy began to feel anxious. He knew that in the event of the failure of the expedition Mr. Saunders might blame him for the loss of the considerable sum which had been spent in fitting it out, and, moreover, he would feel in duty bound to return the five thousand dollars which the merchant had advanced to him.
A part of this sum had been spent, some of it in paying the mortgage on his father’s house, and he would be left hopelessly in debt.
“Don’t feel blue, Guy,” said Abner Titcomb. “It took us months to come here, and surely we can spare a month for the search.”
“Yes, Abner; but will the captain wait for us that long?”
“There is the rub?” said Titcomb. “For some reason he is very impatient, and very averse to staying here.”
“Probably he is naturally impatient,” suggested Luke Clark.
“That does not explain it. He is evidently unfriendly to Guy, and does not want him to succeed.”
“And for that reason I am all the more determined to succeed,” said Guy, firmly.
For two hours after this they searched vigorously and earnestly. Not a clump of trees but was scanned critically, in the hope that it might be the lucky cross of which they were in quest.
The time most dreaded by Guy was the evening and the return to the ship unsuccessful and empty-handed.
Captain Richmond was always on hand, and always put the question:
“Well, have you succeeded?”
“Not yet,” answered Guy, reluctantly.
“Of course not,” retorted the captain, contemptuously.
“But I mean to do so,” said Guy, pluckily.
“And how many years do you expect me to ride at anchor here waiting for you?”
“We have been here but five days, so far,” said Guy.
“And have accomplished nothing. You might as well make up your mind, first as last, that there is nothing to be found here. I don’t believe, for my part, that any pirates ever visited the island.”
“Why, then, should a dying man tell my uncle so, Captain Richmond?”
“It was a sailor’s yarn. There are some men who can’t help lying, even upon their deathbed.”
“Don’t you believe any pirates ever concealed their booty?”
“Nine out of ten of the stories about pirates and hidden treasure are fabrications.”
“Be that as it may, Captain Richmond,” said Guy, with dignity, “you will lose nothing by waiting.”
“I shall lose my patience, for one thing.”
“I don’t think you have much.”
“No impertinence, young man!” said Captain Richmond, angrily.
“I don’t mean to be impertinent, but I want you to carry out in good faith the terms of the agreement I made with your owners.”
The captain walked away without a word, but there was a look upon his face which Guy did not like. He knew that if the captain chose to put an end to his stay upon the island he would have no alternative but to submit, and would be obliged to keep on to Bombay in the humiliation of failure.
Guy’s fears were increased by a few words he had with Frank Low, the young sailor already referred to as an object of dislike to the captain.
It was one evening, when the captain had retired early.
“Guy—Mr. Fenwick,” said Frank, “let me speak a few words to you.”
“By all means, Frank. You need not call me Mr. Fenwick. I am only a boy like yourself—younger, indeed.”
“But you are a passenger, while I am only a poor sailor.”
“You are my friend, all the same. Now what have you to tell me?”
“Captain Richmond is in a great funk at being obliged to stay here while you are on shore.”
“I know that very well, Frank, but he has no right to be. I made a special agreement with the owners of the Osprey for which they will be handsomely paid.”
Frank shook his head.
“That’s all very well, Master Guy, but the captain will play you a trick if he can.”
“What trick can he play me?”
“He can forbid your going on shore again.”
“He wouldn’t do that. He knows that in that case, the contract being broken, I should have an excuse for refusing to pay the sum agreed upon.”
“Is it after hidden gold you are searching, Master Guy?”
“Yes; after treasure concealed on this island by pirates.”
“Do you believe it is there?”
“Yes. I have very good reason to believe it.”
“Then why don’t you get the captain on your side by offering him something—say a thousand dollars—in case you find it.”
“It wouldn’t do much good. The captain doesn’t believe in the treasure.”
Frank Low looked uneasy.
“I’ll tell you what I am afraid of, Master Guy,” he said.
“Go on, Frank.”
“I am afraid some day when you are on the island he will set sail without you.”
Guy looked startled, as he well might, at this suggestion.
“He wouldn’t dare do that,” he replied.
“I don’t know. I believe he would dare to do anything. Besides——”
“Well, Frank,” said Guy, seeing that he hesitated.
“Besides, I don’t think the captain is wholly responsible for what he does.”
“Why do you think that?” asked Guy, quickly.
“From the way he behaves. Sometimes he paces up and down the deck, muttering to himself. I shouldn’t be surprised if he were off his base.”
“You mean that he is crazy?”
“It looks to me like that. I had an uncle who was affected in the same way. He used to go up and down through the village, muttering, and took very little notice of anyone he met when he had the fit on him. After a while he got worse, and at last had to be carried to an asylum.”
“Then you think that with the fit upon him, the captain might sail away and leave me and my two friends on the island?”
“That is what I am afraid of.”
“Thank you for putting me on my guard, Frank. I will think over what you have said and try to prepare for it.”
“I don’t see how you can.”
“I must still continue my visits to the island, whatever risk I run; that is due to my employer. But, should the worst happen, you can do something for me.”
“I will do anything for you, Master Guy,” said the young sailor, earnestly.
“Then, Frank, if the captain treacherously deserts us, and keeps on his course to Bombay, as soon as the Osprey arrives there I want you to call on Mr. Saunders, my employer, and let him know where I am. He will probably have the captain arrested, and will send the Osprey or some other vessel to our help.”
“But you will be left to starve!”
“I don’t fear that. There are natural fruits on the island, and animals that we can kill for food. I think that we can get along as Robinson Crusoe did.”
“I will remember what you have told me, Master Guy, but I hope there will be no need to do it.”
“I trust, too, that the necessity will not arise.”
“Don’t you think you had better give up your search, Master Guy, considering how much opposition there is to it?”
“No, Frank,” said Guy, firmly. “You must remember that I am in the employ of Mr. Saunders, and represent his interests. I will prove faithful to him, whatever happens.”
Frank Low looked perplexed and uneasy. He had become anxious, and being warmly attached to Guy, who treated him as a friend and an equal, thought chiefly of his safety.
The fear excited by Frank Low’s communication made Guy more anxious than ever to complete his work upon the island as soon as possible. Captain Richmond’s evident hostility and desire to get away excited daily apprehension.
Guy had no desire to repeat the experience of Robinson Crusoe. It would doubtless be romantic, but he preferred to read romances rather than enact them.
Guy’s feelings were shared by his two companions.
“Whenever I come to the island I pray that it may be for the last time,” said Abner Titcomb. “With such a man as Captain Richmond in command of the Osprey I never feel safe.”
“I feel so, too,” added Luke Clark.
A new alarm seized Guy. Would his companions refuse to persevere in the quest?
He had no doubt of their general loyalty, but both had families in far-away Maine, and their affections made them timid.
Guy himself had a father and friends in America, and he, too, shrank from the fate which would be his if the captain should take a fancy to sail away and leave them on the island.
It was certainly a strange and momentous responsibility that rested upon this American boy of but seventeen years. Here were two men of middle age under his direction. He had hired them for a special service, but he could not command them to remain faithful in the face of the danger which they all dreaded.
“Don’t you think, Mr. Titcomb,” said Guy, on the second morning after his conversation with Frank Low, “that we had better work more systematically?”
“What do you mean, Guy?”
“I will tell you. Hitherto we have kept together. Would it not be well to separate and go in different directions, meeting, say, at four o’clock? It would not be so pleasant, but I think it would multiply our chances of success.”
“I am ready for any plan that will have that result. Do you know, I dreamed of my wife and children last night?”
“That must have been pleasant.”
“No; for in my dream one of the children seemed to be very sick with a fever. I could not help thinking of what might happen during our protracted absence.”
Abner Titcomb spoke gravely, and it was easy to see that the dream had made a deep impression upon him. Not only upon him, but upon Luke Clark, to whom the same thought seemed to have come.
“If Captain Grover were in command of the Osprey, we wouldn’t feel so anxious or hurried,” he said.
“No; but we have a very different man in command.”
“True; but he would not have the courage to sail away and leave us in the lurch.”
“Suppose, however, that Frank Low’s conjecture is correct, and the man is insane?”
“Then, of course, he would be capable of anything,” said Luke Clark.
“Don’t let us brood over a danger which perhaps does not exist,” interrupted Guy. “Rather let us consult together how to succeed.”
It was decided to adopt Guy’s suggestion and separate, each of the three taking a different route, and meeting again at four o’clock. It was felt by all that there was no time to be lost.
It may be as well to explain here that each of the three was provided with a watch, so that there would be no difficulty about meeting at any hour agreed upon.
The first day on which this arrangement was carried out proved to be a long one for each member of the party. Previously they were able to converse together, and this made the time slip by more rapidly.
They met on the hill, at the place where they had found the seat already referred to.
Guy and Titcomb were the first to arrive.
“Well, Abner, what success?” asked Guy.
“None at all. I presume you have no better news to report.”
“No.”
“I wonder whether your clue—about the trees in the shape of a cross—can be depended upon?”
“If not, I shall have absolutely nothing to guide me.”
“Then let us trust that it is reliable. Well, I scanned closely every clump of trees in my wanderings, and saw nothing that answered the description.”
“Let us hope that Luke was more fortunate.”
Five minutes later Luke Clark made his appearance, coming from the west. There was an unusual expression upon his face that made Guy hopeful.
“Well, Luke,” he said, “have you discovered anything?”
“Yes,” answered Clark.
“What is it?” asked Guy, eagerly. “Not the cross?”
“No, not the cross. This is what I found.”
He drew from his pocket a small volume, looking like an account book. The cover bore the marks of exposure. It had evidently been out in the rain, but the inside pages were full of writing which was still legible.
“The book must have been left here by one of the pirates,” said Guy.
“No; not by one of the pirates, but by an unfortunate man who met the fate that we have all been dreading.”
“What do you mean, Luke?”
“I mean that the man who wrote the account which you will find in this book was left here purposely by a ship captain who had a grudge against him. So much I have gathered from the pages that I have read.”
“Sit down and read it to us. It is nearly two hours before we shall have to be on the beach to meet the boat.”
The handwriting was plain and legible, though a lead pencil had been employed. It looked very much like a schoolboy’s hand, the letters being round and well formed. The writer had evidently written slowly and deliberately.
The reading was listened to with deep interest. The story ran thus:
“I wonder whether anyone will ever read these lines which I pen in my despair. I hope so, though when they are read I shall be beyond human help. Not that I am sick. I am well in body, but so unhappy that I have made up my mind when this record is completed to throw myself into the sea and end my captivity in the only way that seems practicable.
“Four years I have lived on this island in the completest solitude. Every day I have made a notch on a tree, which I selected for the purpose, as it was the only way of keeping tally of the time. The seasons are so much alike that the changes are not sufficient to be a guide to me.
“I have just been counting the notches I have made, and I find them to number fourteen hundred and sixty. That makes exactly four years, not making account of the extra day for leap year.
“But I must not make my preface too long. Let me say, then, that in the year 187—I set sail from Liverpool for Bombay, rating as an ordinary seaman. I had made other voyages, for I have been a sailor, man and boy, for twenty years, but I had no presentiment that this was to be the last and most disastrous.
“We had a good captain, a man who understood his business, strict, and yet kind. I always liked him, and got on well with him. I may say that I never sailed under a captain whom I more highly respected. His name was Clark——”
“Your name, Luke,” suggested Guy. “I don’t understand how, under such a captain, the poor fellow could have come to grief.”
“You will see further on.”
Luke Clark continued reading:
“The mate, however, was a different man, arrogant, rough, and domineering. None of us liked him. He would have misused the sailors had the captain allowed, but Captain Clark, though a mild and good-tempered man, was one who did not permit his authority to be questioned or disputed. More than once, when the mate was on the point of abusing one of us sailors, the captain interfered and sternly reprimanded him.
“Of course, under these circumstances, the mate could not do the harm or indulge in the brutality to which his nature impelled him. This was fortunate for me, for by ill luck I had managed to incur his special ill will. Once he was on the point of striking me to the deck when Captain Clark interfered.
“The mate never forgot this. He was humiliated, for the captain had reproved him sharply in the presence of some of the crew. He often looked at me in a manner which boded me no good. Still I did not feel anxious, for I knew that Captain Clark was just and humane, and would not tolerate any abuse on the part of the mate.
“But I could not foresee the future. I did not dream what misfortune was in store for us. We were nearing Madagascar, when the captain fell sick of some mysterious disorder, and in the space of two days was dead.
“So it chanced that we sailors lost our best friend, and John Richmond became captain in his place.”
The three looked at each other in amazement.
“John Richmond!” repeated Guy. “It is very strange. But read on. I think I can guess how he acted.”
Luke Clark proceeded with the manuscript.
“After the mate became captain, things changed for the sailors. Before, we had a strict disciplinarian, but a kindly one. No sailor who did his duty had anything to complain of. After that we were in charge of a tyrant. Captain Richmond, for this was his title now, did not forget his experiences or animosities as mate. There were several whom he disliked, but I think he hated me the most. He would have abused me, but I knew his feelings, and did not give him a chance.
“I think he disliked me all the more on that account. I could see, by the way he looked at me at times, what hatred for me there was in his heart. I think he disliked me the more because, though only a common seaman, I had had a fine education, and he knew it. In that respect I was his superior.
“Well, about this time there came a storm. It was a very violent storm, unusual in that latitude, and it drove us out of our course very considerably. Instead of trying to get into the regular route for vessels bound to Bombay, Captain Richmond kept the ship in a northeasterly course till we struck the Agalegas Islands.
“What could be his reason I did not comprehend, but I soon understood only too well. He went on shore, taking myself and another of the crew with him. We kept on till we reached the woods. Then the captain took my companion with him, and bade me remain where I was on some pretext. He was to come for me later on.
“I waited unsuspectingly till I got tired. Then I ascended the hill, and to my dismay saw the Miranda—that was the name of our vessel—under full sail, bearing out to sea. In an instant the terrible truth flashed upon me. I had been left, helpless and alone, on this unknown island, with very little chance of ever leaving it, for it was not in the path of trading vessels.
“I was almost frantic when I realized what a fearful fate was reserved for me. I shrieked, I shook my fist at the receding vessel. I called down curses on the head of the fiend who had taken upon me this terrible revenge, or rather had inflicted upon me this unprovoked punishment, for I had done nothing to incur his hostility.
“But do what I would I could not recall the Miranda. What excuse the captain made for my absence I do not know; but though I had friends on board, there was no one who would dare take my part, or call him to account for his action.
“Four years have passed since then. They have been like forty. I have not starved, for the berries and fruits which the island affords, together with the fish I have been able to catch, have sustained me. But there was no one with whom I could hold converse—no one to whom I could speak, so it is a wonder I have not forgotten my native tongue.
“For a time I bore up, sustained by the hope that some vessel would touch at the island and carry me back to England. In the four years I have seen two ships, but I was unable to attract the attention of anyone on board.
“So hope died at last, and I have come to the conclusion that for me there is no release, no way of escape. I am forty-two years of age. Under ordinary circumstances I might hope to live thirty years longer. But what would life be on this island, cut off from human companionship? I would rather end it all, and have decided to do so. When I have completed this record I shall go to a cliff on the northern shore of the island, and fling myself into the sea. Whether any eye will read these lines, I cannot tell. I hope so. I hope that someone will learn the perfidious and cruel conduct of John Richmond, and pity his poor victim.
John Wolf.”
When the story had been read the three looked at one another in stupefaction.
“It is terrible,” said Guy. “Why is it that such things are permitted?”
“Don’t you think, Guy, that this partly explains Captain Richmond’s reluctance to stay here?” asked Abner Titcomb.
“Yes,” answered Guy, quickly. “I had not thought of that, but it is probably the case.”
“A man who would be capable of wronging a poor sailor like John Wolf, and dooming him to a hopeless captivity, is quite capable of repeating the atrocious act,” observed Luke Clark, significantly.
“Yes,” said Titcomb, gravely. “I agree with you. It will be well for us to find that treasure as soon as possible. We run a risk every time we come here.”
Luke Clark had been turning over the leaves of the memorandum book from which he had read the sailor’s story.
“There is something more,” he said; “a post-script. It may be important. I will read it.”
This was what he read:
“I may as well record here an important discovery I chanced to make one day. It is of no use to me, but it may benefit the persons into whose hands this book may fall. At the north end of the island, about two hundred feet from the edge of the bluff, there is a group of trees arranged singularly in the shape of a cross. Between the second and third trees, at about eighteen inches from the surface, is a sailor’s chest, full of gold, silver, and jewels. I cannot estimate the value, but it must be large. I fancy it was hidden here by pirates. It must have been forgotten, however, for no one has visited it since I have been on this island.
If I could only get away, this treasure would make me rich. It is a tantalizing thought. As I am situated it is of no earthly use to me. Some time—it may be years hence—it will be found by some lucky person, perhaps by the one who reads this account, and it will make him rich. Such good fortune is not for me. If I could only escape from this island, which, charming as it is, I have learned to detest, I would be willing to live in abject poverty for the rest of my life. Wealth is far from my thoughts——”
“Is that all?” asked Guy, when Luke Clark stopped reading.
“Yes.”
“It is indeed strange. I thought the group of trees must be in the wood somewhere. We have been on the wrong scent.”
“But we have succeeded at last. Let us be thankful for that. We can probably finish up our work in a day or two, and then—we can go home.”
“We must go to Bombay first.”
“Yes. We can stand that, since the delay will be brief.”
“Shall we tell Captain Richmond that we have succeeded?” asked Luke.
“Perhaps it will be well to drop a hint that we are on the point of making a discovery. That will encourage him, and insure his waiting. It is not well to tell him too much.”
“It is time to go down to the beach. Only one day more!”
The three descended the hill, and reached the beach about five o’clock.
They were seen from the ship, and the boat was sent for them.
“Well,” said the captain, with his usual sneer, as they climbed on deck, “have you discovered the mare’s nest?”
The remark was addressed to Guy.
“I have reason to think we shall locate the treasure to-morrow, Captain Richmond.”
“What ground have you for that assertion?” asked the captain, quickly.
“Excuse my explaining now, but I have good reasons for my belief.”
Captain Richmond scanned Guy closely, being surprised by his confident tone.
Guy’s face was bright and cheerful, and confirmed his words. He thought that the captain would question him further, but the commander only looked thoughtful, and turning on his heel without a word went down to his cabin.
“I wish I could read his thoughts,” Guy said to himself. “He doesn’t seem glad that I am likely to succeed. He even looks as if he were disappointed.”
“Very likely. He’s a strange man, and a disagreeable one.”
Later in the evening, say about nine o’clock, Abner Titcomb and Luke Clark were leaning over the side, talking, as was natural, of the stirring events of the day, when the captain passed, neither of them being aware of his nearness.
There was one word which caught his attention. It was the name Miranda.
He stopped short, and there was a startled look on his face.
“Did I hear the name Miranda?” he asked, quickly.
“Yes,” answered Titcomb, conscious of his imprudence.
The captain turned away, but he looked suspicious and agitated, and began to mutter to himself, looking darkly from time to time at the two men.
“Does he suspect anything, do you think?” asked Titcomb.
“No; I don’t think so.”
“All the same, I wish that I had kept my tongue between my teeth.”
The next morning, when Guy and his two companions started for the island, their faces were bright with hope and expectation. They felt that success was at hand.
They never doubted the truth of the statement which they had read in John Wolf’s memorandum book. There had been times when they had been despondent, but all fear of failure was now removed.
They were too much absorbed in their own thoughts to notice the rather remarkable demeanor of the captain, who stood on the deck, silent and watchful, while his three passengers were taking their places in the boat.
They were provided with a pickaxe and a shovel. These Guy had brought with him from home, in the hope that they would be required in unearthing the treasure of which he was in search.
Hitherto they had not carried these implements on their daily trips to the island, but the time had now come when they would be of use.
Captain John Richmond smiled cynically as he watched the boat lowered and the three explorers entering it. Probably no one of the sailors noticed his expression except Frank Low, on whom it produced a feeling of uneasiness.
“I wonder what the captain’s thinking about,” he said to himself.
Captain Richmond stood silent and thoughtful till he saw the party land on the island beach. Then he waited quietly till the boat returned.
He waited longer, and through the glass saw Guy and his companions plunge into the forest.
Then he called the mate, and gave him an order which was received with intense astonishment.
“Surely, Captain Richmond,” he said, “you are not in earnest!”
“Mr. Forbush,” said the captain, sternly, “I’ll thank you not to question my orders.”
“But, Captain Richmond, you are surely not going to put out to sea, leaving your three passengers on the island!”
“That is just what I am going to do,” said the captain, with an oath.
“But, sir——”
“Do you understand, Mr. Forbush, that I am the captain of this vessel?”
“I understand my business, and I don’t choose to have my orders questioned.”
“But, sir, this is monstrous!” protested the mate.
“Another word, sir, and I will put you in irons!”
The mate looked at the captain, and saw that he was almost beside himself with rage. Evidently he was in no condition to be expostulated with.
It seemed necessary to give in to him for the present, and the mate called the boatswain to pipe the crew to duty.
There was more than one perplexed and wondering face as the sailors prepared the ship for setting sail. They all asked themselves what it meant, and whether the three men on the island were to be left behind.
But no one dared to ask the captain, who, stern and resolute, kept his place on deck, and personally saw that his orders were carried out. Perhaps the one who felt the deepest grief and dismay was Frank Low, who saw that what he had most feared was about to take place.
He knew, too—for Guy had got a chance to tell him—that the scheme was all but discovered, and that this would be the last day upon the island.
Poor Frank! Unwillingly enough he was compelled to take his part in getting the ship ready for a start.
Had he dared, he would have made a personal protest to the captain, but he knew that while this would bring swift punishment to him it would do his friends no good. So with a perplexed brow and sinking heart he bore his part, and kept silence till the mate chanced to be standing near him. Then he felt he must speak.
“Mr. Forbush,” he said, “what does this mean? Are we going to desert Guy Fenwick and his men?”
It was a breach of discipline to say as much as this, but he knew that the mate felt kindly toward him and toward Guy.
“Heaven only knows,” replied the mate, in a low voice. “I have done the best I could to prevent him, but the captain won’t hear a word.”
“They will die!” said Frank, in a faltering voice.
“Not a word more now; the captain is coming!”
Captain Richmond came up, looking stern and forbidding, and watched with a lynx-like glance all that was going on.
The mate determined to make one more remonstrance.
“Captain Richmond,” he said, “does Guy Fenwick know of your intention of putting to sea?”
The captain looked as if he were about to indulge in a burst of furious anger, but he restrained himself, with a sudden thought.
“Yes,” he said, “he understands. We are coming back for him,” he added, after a pause.
Mr. Forbush looked skeptical. He did not believe a word of this.
He was about to speak again when the captain added, peremptorily: “I wish to hear no more on this subject, Mr. Forbush. I know what I am about.”
After this it would not do even for the mate to say more.
Still, the latter regarded the captain fixedly, which appeared to anger him.
“Don’t look at me in that way, Mr. Forbush!” roared the captain. “I repeat that I know what I am about!”
“I am glad you do, sir,” said the mate, coolly.
Captain Richmond glared at him, but did not reply.
Within an hour the Osprey, under full sail, for there was a good breeze, was speeding away from the island.
We must now follow Guy and his two friends, who had gone ashore in high spirits, feeling that success was within their grasp. They did not loiter on their way, but made all haste to reach that part of the island indicated as the repository of the treasure.
As they walked they talked cheerfully and hopefully of the future.
“Guy,” said Abner, “you are entitled to credit for your enterprise and pluck. It isn’t many boys of your age that would have done so much.”
“I don’t know about that, Abner,” said Guy, modestly; “but I have done the best I could.”
“And you will be well paid.”
“I hope so. Not so much for my own sake as my father’s. I want to make his latter days comfortable.”
“Why, he isn’t so old! He’s only about ten years older than I am.”
“True; but you know as soon as a minister has passed middle life some are anxious to turn him off and put a younger man in his place.”
“Is that the case in Bayport?”
“Yes. There is one of the congregation—Deacon Crane—who is anxious to get rid of him. I don’t think there are many who agree with him, but I know he will do all he can to bring about a change.”
“It’s a lucky thing Luke came across that memorandum book. I don’t believe we should any of us have thought of going to the other end of the island.”
“It would have been a good while, probably, before we did.”
“And Captain Richmond would have got tired of waiting. Did you drop him a hint that we were on the right track?”
“Yes; but I don’t believe he put any faith in my words.”
“He will have to believe it when we carry the treasure on board.”
At length, following the directions of Wolf, the unfortunate sailor, they reached the locality specified.
There stood the six trees, arranged in the shape of a cross. There were no other trees within two hundred feet, and this made them conspicuous.
“If we had ever come this way we could not have failed to discover them,” said Titcomb; “and after all, the pirates were wise to select this place, rather than one in the heart of the woods.”
They lost no time in digging between the second and third trees, according to directions.
“I hope no one has been here before,” said Luke Clark, between the strokes of his pickaxe.
“There was no one to come here except John Wolf, and he would have had no object in it.”
In a very short time Abner Titcomb’s pickaxe struck something hard.
“That’s the chest, I surmise,” he said.
The three redoubled their efforts, and, sure enough, they soon laid bare the chest which for so many years had been buried in its secret hiding place.
It proved to be locked, but by good luck Guy, who had with him the key of his uncle’s chest in the attic of his home in Bayport, was able to open it.
The sight dazzled them. There were vases filled with gold and silver coin, and three or four wallets stuffed with bank bills, besides watches—there looked to be fifty or sixty of these—and jewelry.
“Well! well! This is a find!” said Abner Titcomb. “You are rich for life, Guy!”
Guy’s face flushed with pride and joy.
“Mr. Saunders will be satisfied, I think,” he said, simply. “The question is now, how shall we get the chest to the beach?”
“I think we shall have to wait till to-morrow. I doubt if we can carry it so far. We can bring some of the sailors with us to help.”
“Won’t there be a risk in leaving it?”
“There is no one on the island. Still, we had better cover it up and get back to the beach, although it is yet early.”
It was at least four miles to the beach. When they arrived there their hearts were filled with dismay, for looking out to sea, they could see nothing of the Osprey! She had mysteriously disappeared.
Guy and his two companions looked at one another, with pale faces and sinking hearts.
“What does it mean?” Guy faltered.
“It means,” said Abner, hoarsely, “that that fiend, Captain Richmond, has served us as he did the poor sailor, John Wolf.”
“But he can’t have gone away for good! He will come back!”
Guy spoke hopefully, but he did not himself believe what he said.
“Just as we had succeeded, too!”
“If we had only made the discovery yesterday; but now it is too late!”
“Boys,” said Abner Titcomb, “let us sit down and discuss our position as calmly as we can. If there is any favorable side to it let us try to find it.”
“But is there any?” sighed Luke Clark.
“Yes; to begin with, we sha’n’t starve. The products of the island will sustain us, as they did John Wolf.”
“But life won’t be worth sustaining if we have to live as he did. We may be driven, like him, to throw ourselves into the sea.”
“He was alone, and there are three of us. Besides, our fate will be known to the whole ship’s crew.”
“I don’t understand why the mate permitted it.”
“No doubt he protested, but what could he do? In a conflict of authority between the captain and the mate the latter must go to the wall.”
“Then what hope is there?”
“As soon as the ship reaches Bombay someone on board will notify Mr. Saunders of what has happened.”
“Frank Low would do that, if there were no one else,” said Guy, beginning to be hopeful.
“Yes; and he would send for us.”
“But weeks must pass before help can arrive.”
“True; and they will seem more like months; but I am sure all will come right in the end.”
“Meanwhile,” said Guy, recovering in a measure from his depression, “we must adapt ourselves to circumstances, and make ourselves as comfortable as we can.”
“Let us begin, then, by taking lunch. We have been so occupied with the treasure that we have forgotten to eat.”
Meanwhile the Osprey was speeding from the island, and was already fifty miles away. Everyone on board, even to the humblest sailor, looked grave. Everyone was thinking of poor Guy and his companions on their island prison.
Guy was a general favorite, partly on account of his good looks, partly on account of his bright, kindly ways, and indignation against the captain on account of his cruel and inhuman course was general and intense.
When the time came for dinner, the captain sat down to it alone. Mr. Forbush, the mate, excused himself on the plea that he had no appetite.
Captain Richmond was angry, for he penetrated the mate’s objection to sitting down with him.
“Just as you please, Mr. Forbush,” he said, in a tone of irritation, “but you are acting very foolishly.”
“You may regard it in that light, if you choose, Captain Richmond,” returned the mate, coldly.
“Have you anything to say to me?” asked the captain, defiantly.
“I have already expressed my opinion of your course,” said Forbush, frigidly.
“I know what I am about,” blustered the captain.
“You have said that before. I can only repeat that I am glad of it.”
“Perhaps you mean to dispute my authority,” said the captain, in a quarrelsome tone.
“Wait till I do, sir.”
Captain Richmond swore softly to himself, and eyed the mate with a glance far from friendly.
So the day passed, and another dawned.
Captain Richmond was unusually irritable. He saw that all on board looked at him askance. The sailors obeyed him, so that he had no excuse for complaint, but there was an utter absence of cordiality, and he was in the position of a social outcast who is “sent to Coventry.”
This is not a pleasant position for anyone, least of all for an arrogant and ill-tempered man like Captain Richmond. While it cannot be said that he regretted his inhuman conduct, he was angry at the unpopularity he had acquired through it.
Besides, he could not doubt that it would be reported at Bombay, and the matter perhaps brought to the attention of the American consul. Whenever he thought of this he felt vaguely uncomfortable, but he was too self-willed to retrace his course and thus admit himself to be in the wrong.
“Where is all this going to end, Mr. Forbush?” asked the boatswain one day. “Are those poor fellows to be left to their fate?”
“No,” answered the mate, firmly. “I shall report the matter when we reach Bombay, and I will agree to head an expedition for their relief.”
“But how will they get along meanwhile? Won’t they starve?”
“No. Titcomb told me that the island produced enough to sustain life.”
“Will not Captain Richmond be punished?”
“I earnestly hope so. If my representations will effect it, he will lose his command.”
“The man must be a fiend.”
“He is getting worse and worse. He does not treat me with ordinary civility, and he is beginning to abuse the men. He has not a pleasant word for anyone.”
It was indeed true that Captain Richmond was becoming more despotic and tyrannical than ever. On the least provocation he would fell a seaman to the deck or launch a volley of curses at him.
As a consequence, there were more angry looks than ever directed toward him as he paced the deck with hasty strides, shaking his head, and muttering words that could not be understood.
One day he treated with unusual brutality the Italian sailor already referred to, Guido Leporelli.
Guido was a short man, not much over five feet in height, and the captain probably regarded him with contempt, as one whom it would be safe to bully. In personal strength, Leporelli was as a mere child compared to the robust captain, but he had his share of the fiery and revengeful spirit that characterizes a large number of his countrymen.
On this day the mate caught the glance with which he regarded the captain. It made him shudder.
“I should not like to make an enemy of Leporelli,” he said to himself. “I think he means mischief.”
It was in his mind to warn Captain Richmond of his danger, but he reflected that, should he do so, it would bring upon the Italian worse treatment than ever, and he was not willing to run this risk.
“The captain must take his chances,” he decided.
It was on the morning of the ninth day after leaving the island that Captain Richmond, in pacing the deck, came upon Leporelli. The Italian was moving at a slow pace, for he had a rheumatic affection in his left leg.
“Move faster, you lazy hound!” said the captain, roughly, and he dealt the little Italian a cruel blow in the face.
The eyes of Guido Leporelli blazed with wrath. With a smothered ejaculation in his native tongue he pulled out a murderous-looking knife, which he had been carrying for several days, and in a flash it was buried in the breast of the burly captain.
Captain Richmond fell forward, dying almost instantly, for the knife had penetrated his heart.
A smile of supreme satisfaction overspread the Italian’s face as he saw his brutal tormentor dead at his feet.
“I am avenged!” he cried. “Now I am ready to die!”
With the blood-stained knife still in his hand he ran to the edge of the vessel and sprang into the sea.
No one tried to prevent him, and no one tried to rescue him. His life was forfeited by his act, and the mate, who was now bending over the captain, felt that his self-punishment was the speediest settlement of a troublesome complication.
The captain was raised and carried to his cabin. Restoratives were applied, but in vain. It soon became evident that the Italian’s thrust was fatal. Death had been instantaneous.
There was a frown on the captain’s face that made it repellent, yet natural, for his countenance in life had been seldom without it.
Mr. Forbush assumed command, as his position required. The captain’s body was sewed up in sailcloth and committed to the deep, the ex-mate reading the burial service.
Then the crew were summoned to meet the new captain.
“Men,” said Captain Forbush, “the captain’s death has made me your commander.”
There was an attempt at applause, but with a wave of his hand Mr. Forbush stopped it.
“I shall try to deserve your confidence and good will,” he continued. “Of the dead let us think and speak only in pity. He had his faults, but he has been terribly punished. It is proper for me to state, as I take command, that I shall immediately reverse the ship’s course and return to the island for Guy Fenwick and his two companions.”
Then there was a burst of approving cheers which Captain Forbush did not check.