Produced by R.G.P.M. van Giesen







[Illustration: cover art]

The Quest of the
"Golden Hope"



BLACKIE & SON LIMITED
50 Old Bailey, LONDON
17 Stanhope Street, GLASGOW

BLACKIE & SON (INDIA) LIMITED
Warwick House, Fort Street, BOMBAY

BLACKIE & SON (CANADA) LIMITED
1118 Bay Street, TORONTO



[Illustration: CAPTAIN JEREMY IS WOUNDED (missing from book)]



The Quest of the
"Golden Hope"
A Seventeenth Century Story of Adventure


BY
PERCY F. WESTERMAN
Author of "East in the _Golden Gain_" "The Third Officer"
"Sea Scouts All" &c.


ILLUSTRATED BY FRANK E. WILES


BLACKIE & SON LIMITED
LONDON AND GLASGOW



By Percy F. Westerman

   Rivals of the Reef.
   A Shanghai Adventure.
   Pat Stobart in the "Golden Dawn".
   The Junior Cadet.
   Captain Starlight.
   The Sea-Girt Fortress.
   On the Wings of the Wind.
   Captured at Tripoli.
   Captain Blundell's Treasure.
   The Third Officer.
   Unconquered Wings.
   The Buccaneers of Boya.
   The Riddle of the Air.
   Chums of the "Golden Vanity".
   The Luck of the "Golden Dawn".
   Clipped Wings.
   The Salving of the "Fusi Yama".
   Winning his Wings.
   A Lively Bit of the Front.
   A Cadet of the Mercantile Marine.
   The Good Ship "Golden Effort".
   East in the "Golden Gain".
   The Quest of the "Golden Hope".
   Sea Scouts Abroad.
   Sea Scouts Up-Channel.
   The Wireless Officer.
   A Lad of Grit.
   The Submarine Hunters.
   Sea Scouts All.
   The Thick of the Fray.
   A Sub and a Submarine.
   Under the White Ensign.
   The Fight for Constantinople.
   With Beatty off Jutland.

Printed in Great Britain by Blackie & Son, Ltd., Glasgow


Contents
       I. OF THE FUGITIVE FROM SEDGEMOOR
      II. THE TWO DRAGOONS ON THE BROCKENHURST ROAD
     III. CAPTAIN JEREMY'S SURPRISE
      IV. THE _MADRE DE DIOS_
       V. THE CHART
      VI. A MIDNIGHT INTRUDER
     VII. THE CAVE IN THE LONELY HEATH
    VIII. CONCERNING THE EVENTS THAT PROMPTED ME
             TO A DESPERATE RESOLVE
      IX. FLIGHT
       X. IN THE HOLD
      XI. MY FIRST DAY AT SEA
     XII. A BRUSH WITH ALGERINES
    XIII. OF THE MYSTERIOUS SHIP IN THE MIDST OF THE OCEAN
     XIV. "CAPTAIN 'ENERY"
      XV. WE ARRIVE AT TREASURE ISLAND
     XVI. A HASTY RECALL
    XVII. ATTACKED BY BUCCANEERS
   XVIII. "REPEL BOARDERS!"
     XIX. BLOWN UP
      XX. THE REPULSE AT THE STOCKADE
     XXI. CAPTAIN CRADDOCK
    XXII. A LEAP FOR LIFE
   XXIII. THE PERILS OF THE SHOAL
    XXIV. MORE TROUBLE IN SIGHT
     XXV. WE ARRIVE AT THE HIDING-PLACE OF THE TREASURE
    XXVI. UNTOLD WEALTH
   XXVII. THE MUTINY OF THE _NEPTUNE_
  XXVIII. THE FATE OF THE MUTINEERS
    XXIX. HOMEWARD BOUND
     XXX. THE LAST OF MY SWORN ENEMY
    XXXI. THE BURNING SHIP
   XXXII. CONSTANCE'S STORY
  XXXIII. SAFE IN PORT


Illustrations
------
CAPTAIN JEREMY IS WOUNDED (Frontispiece)
I DESCENDED HAND OVER HAND
THE TREASURE OF THE "MADRE DE DIOS"
I SHOUTED TO THE MEN TO HEAVE ROUNDLY
------
MAP OF THE ISLAND


[Illustration: MAP OF THE ISLAND]


   A The _Golden Hope_ in harbour.
   B The stockade.
   C Path taken by first expedition in search of the treasure.
   CC Path taken by successful expedition.
   D Wreck of the _Madre de Dios._
   E Cave where Clifford was held prisoner.
   F Shoal where Clifford was attacked by octopus.
   G Site of the master gunner's ambuscade.
   H Buccaneers' harbour and settlement.
   K Wreck of the _Black Arrow._
   L False landmark erected by Captain Jeremy's orders.
   M Wreck of _Neptune_ owing to false bearings.
   N Where the treasure was found.
   O Cove where Cherry and the long-boat's crew landed.
   P Deep water channel inside shoals, unknown to Captain Jeremy.
   Q Existing path between buccaneers'
         harbour and south side of island.
   R Bearing for navigating channel.
      The track of the _Golden Hope_
         into the harbour is shown by the black line.
      The shaded portion of the shoals were
         uncovered at low water.


THE QUEST OF THE
"GOLDEN HOPE"




CHAPTER I

Of the Fugitive from Sedgemoor


Well do I, Clifford Hammond, remember the 10th day of July in the
year of grace 1685. Rebellion, though some would have it 'twas
justifiable invasion, had appeared in the land. Monmouth had landed
in Dorset, and had raised an army. How he fared, the men of
Hampshire knew not as yet, though there were many who prayed for the
successful issue of his venture.

Little did I think, living on the borders of the New Forest, that
the outbreak in the West would affect the welfare of our house. Yet
it did, though, I must confess, indirectly; for had it not been for
the routing of the rebels at Sedgemoor, the voyage of the _Golden
Hope_ would not have been undertaken, nor would I be able to relate
the desperate adventures of her crew in gaining the object of the
expedition. But I am forestalling my story.

Our family, the Hammonds of Brockenhurst, had lived within the
bounds of the Forest for centuries, as witness the name of Geoffroi
Hammond, who served with distinction at the taking of the _Great
Christopher_ in the sea-fight of Sluys; or of Thomas Hammond, who
fought at Agincourt: but I would make it plain that the Hammonds of
Brockenhurst have no connection with the rebel Colonel
Hammond--though, to his credit be it said, he treated His Majesty
King Charles the Martyr, during his captivity in the Isle of Wight,
with far more courtesy than did his brother officers.

My father, Captain Richard Hammond--"Foul-weather Dick", as he was
affectionately dubbed in the fleet--had had an adventurous career
both ashore and afloat. Beginning with the fatal fight at Naseby
when he was but a young cornet of horse of barely twenty years of
age, he had fought Dutch, Algerines, and, sad to relate, his
fellow-countrymen; but for the last ten years he had retired from
the King's service, and had settled down to a quiet country life in
his native Hampshire.

Thanks to his father's devotion to his sovereign, the exchequer of
the Hammond family had been sadly depleted. During the
ever-to-be-abhorred Rebellion, plate, jewels, money, all went, and
'twas fortunate that our lands had not been confiscated by the
Commonwealth. My father had to rely upon the unkept promises of His
Majesty King Charles II as a reward for the sacrifices of our house
towards the royal cause; nevertheless, the meagre pay of a sea
captain in the King's fleet, together with the income from the shore
estate, sufficed to keep us in comparative ease.

My father married late in life. His spouse, the daughter of Sir
Digby Tall (a baronet as impecunious as the majority of his class at
this time), died within three years of their union, leaving two
children.

At the time my story opens I, Clifford Hammond, was sixteen years of
age, my sister Constance being eighteen months my junior. She was a
tall, sprightly girl, with fresh complexion, blue eyes, and rich
golden hair, being, 'twas said, the image of her mother in her
youth.

No one would readily have taken Constance and me for sister and
brother, for I was olive-featured, with straight, dark-brown hair
and grey eyes; tall in stature, yet inclined to slenderness.

On the particular morning to which I have referred, Constance and I
had gone into Lyndhurst to give orders to a carrier respecting the
purchase of a certain article at Southampton. What the nature of the
purchase was we did not at the time know, although every month,
summer and winter, year in and year out, my father had a similar
package brought in by the regular carrier. Here I may mention that
my sire, in spite of his sixty odd years, was a wonderfully
well-preserved man, his dark-brown locks (for he scorned to wear a
peruke) being innocent of any trace of grey hairs. Yet I call to
mind the occasion, when I was yet a child of tender years, upon
which my father had perforce to attend the Verderers' Court at
Lyndhurst with his hair of a rusty, iron-grey hue. That was about
the time that Giles Shearing's wain was upset at Redbridge, and many
a housewife in Lyndhurst and Brockenhurst who relied on the
Southampton carrier had to go short-handed. I no longer wonder at
the coincidence.

As we left Lyndhurst town on our return journey, I leading a shaggy
Forest pony on which my sister, holding the required purchase, was
perched, a troop of horse came riding with loose rein and hot spur
through the quiet High Street.

They were fierce-looking fellows, with bronzed features, begrimed
with sweat and dust; upturned moustachios, and flowing locks. They
wore red frock-coats trimmed with white facings, the skirts buttoned
back to enable them to sit the better in the saddle; dark-green
breeches, long riding-boots of buff leather, and broad-brimmed
beaver hats, looped up on one side. All were armed with a broadsword
and a pair of pistols, while not a few carried snaphances in a
bucket at the right side of the saddle, or slung across their backs.

This much I noticed as they tore onwards with undiminished pace
through the narrow street, till they were lost to view in a cloud of
dust on the Southampton Road.

"There's some news for Cap'n Hammond, Master Clifford!" shouted
Chambers the blacksmith from across the way. "They say as how Duke
Monmouth's been beaten, and half his army cut to pieces. Those
redcoats are Cornbury's Dragoons, and they are hot on the track of
the Hampshire rebels. Heaven help the Mayor of Lymington and the
score of men he sent to the West!"

Young as I was, I realized that it was a case of woe to the
vanquished. Although our county had not taken up the cause of the
rebel Duke to any thing like the extent of Dorset, Somerset, and
Wiltshire, several of the towns in the western division of Hampshire
had sent small contingents to aid Monmouth's cause, and Lymington
had been the chief offender in this respect. Fortunately for us,
Brockenhurst had held aloof, though the villagers were none too
kindly disposed towards King James's measures.

We hastened on our homeward journey, eager to convey the momentous
news to my father. For the first half of the way the road ran
between dense masses of trees, intersected by shady glades, in which
the leaves of last year still littered the ground. Ever and anon a
herd of fallow deer would dash across the highway, or a troop of
Forest ponies would scamper betwixt the trees, fearing in every
human being a possible master. Pigs also roamed in great numbers,
for though it was the time of fence month[1] within the Forest, so
lax had the jurisdiction of the Verderers' Court become that the
commoners paid less heed to the regulations than they had for years
past.

At length we emerged from the forest and gained the rolling expanse
of heath, where, to right and left, as far as the eye could reach,
the heather and the gorse gleamed in the bright sunshine like a sea
of purple and gold.

"See, there's a man riding as fast as his horse can carry him!"
exclaimed Constance, pointing down the bridle path that, running
between Ring wood and Beaulieu, crosses the highway near the place
where we were.

"Aye, he seems in a mighty hurry," I replied, shading my eyes from
the glare.

"Perchance 'tis another of those horse soldiers?"

"Nay, he wears no red coat," I answered, reassuring her; but though
I did not mention it, I perceived two men riding a long distance
behind the first horseman as if in pursuit, and, unless my eyes
deceived me, they were dragoons.

"Let us hasten," urged Constance, as if filled with some
forebodings, though she was usually a strong-minded girl.

"He'll not molest us," said I. "He is too intent on his errand, I
trow."

Nearer and nearer came the fugitive--for fugitive he was--till I
could distinguish his features. Then my heart gave a sudden bound,
for I recognized the man: it was Jeremy Miles, a master mariner of
Lymington, and one of the townsfolk who had gone west to join the
rebel standard.

Constance knew him also, for she exclaimed, "'Tis Captain Miles! And
see, Clifford, there are soldiers after him!"

Something compelled me to stop and await the arrival of the
fugitive, and, holding the pony's bridle by one hand, I assisted
Constance to dismount.

As we stood we were hidden from the bridle path by a gorse-covered
bank that, being but breast high, was sufficiently low to enable us
to command the track on which the horsemen were riding without being
seen by them until they gained the highway.

Not for one moment did I expect to be in danger, for Miles was
riding strongly and evidently holding his own, while 'twas unlikely
that the troopers, keen on his pursuit, would draw rein to molest a
boy and a girl.

The fugitive was now crossing the white dusty road within twenty
paces of us, when suddenly his horse sank under him, throwing its
rider headlong to the ground. But before the expiring animal gave a
last convulsive shudder, Miles had sprung to his feet and was
looking dazedly towards his pursuers, now but a mile behind.

"Captain Miles!" I shouted, urging my pony forward. "Captain Miles!
Take Trotter and ride him across the heath."

"Why, 'tis Master Hammond!" he exclaimed. "Nay, lad, that beast
would not ship a crew like me: But they'll have their work cut out
to take me. Come, young sir, I'll trouble you to give a hand with my
mare, if you will."

Together, with Constance helping us, we dragged the body of the
animal off the road, and hid it in a slight depression behind some
furze bushes. Then hurriedly we strove to conceal the tell-tale
tracks on the dusty road.

The dragoons were now only a bare quarter-mile away.


[1] The period between the 20th June and the 20th July, during which
time the ancient right of "Pannage", i.e. turning out pigs to feed
on acorns and beech-mast, within the New Forest was withheld.




CHAPTER II

The Two Dragoons on the Brockenhurst Road


"Leave me and shape your own course, Master Hammond!" exclaimed the
Captain composedly, for he had regained both his breath and his
wits. "You can do no more, and I'll warrant I can shift for myself."

So saying, he wriggled along the ground over the bank that screened
us from the soldiers, and lay hidden in the bracken on the same side
of the highway as the troopers.

Meanwhile, filled with anxiety on the behalf of Jeremy Miles--for he
was always a general favourite amongst the youths in and around
Lymington--Constance and I resumed our way, endeavouring to appear
as unconcerned as possible.

Less than a minute must have passed since we saw Captain Miles's
great frame disappear beneath the bracken, when we heard the clatter
of the troopers' horses as their hoofs struck the road. Knowing that
it would ill play our part to refrain from curiosity, we stopped and
looked back at the pursuing soldiers.

They were of the same troop that we had seen in Lyndhurst a short
half-hour ago. Great, swarthy men they were, hardened to cruelty by
reason of their service at Tangiers, and, though I knew it not at
the time, ready to practise the barbarities acquired from the Moors
upon their own countrymen, as many a poor peasant of the marshes of
Somerset had learned to his cost.

"Curse him!" exclaimed one, with an oath. "Where hath he gone? Are
we to let a guinea slip through our fingers after all our trouble?"

"He's not far away," replied his comrade, pointing with an
exclamation of triumph to the partially concealed tracks on the
road. "See, he hath had a fall. Methinks we have him by the heels."

"'Tis like looking for a sprat in the ocean," returned the first
trooper, gazing across the wilderness of gorse. "So long as he stuck
to his mount we could have tracked him. 'Tis what I feared: he hath
made off afoot."

"Here, sirrah," he shouted to me, urging his horse down the road to
where we were, "hast seen aught of a horseman riding like
Beelzebub?"

"Nay," I replied truthfully enough; "no horseman has passed this
way."

"You young prevaricator!" he exclaimed, tapping his pistols
significantly. "You do but dissemble. You know whither that man
went."

I kept silence.

Suddenly the other trooper, who had forced his horse through the
gorse by the side of the road, shouted, "Here's a find, David. The
rogue hath lost his horse."

"Then you saw him fall," continued the dragoon who had overtaken us.
"Back you come with me, you young rebel!"

"I am no rebel," I replied, as stoutly as I could force myself to
speak.

"Back, I say!" he repeated, ignoring my protest, and producing a
pistol from his holster. There was no help for it. I had to go with
him. "Run off home, Constance," I said in a low voice; "I shall be
all right."

"No, you don't, you little wench!" exclaimed the villain. "You'll
come in useful to make this young rebel open his mouth. Come on,
both of you, I say!"

I looked at Constance. She was deathly white, yet she spoke not a
word, although by the expression of her eyes she said, as plainly as
if she had spoken, "Do not tell where he is."

"Mum's the word, eh?" was the greeting of the second trooper, as we
were told to stand still near the scene of our meeting with the
fugitive, Captain Miles. "Shall I tell 'em about that stubborn young
rebel at Dulverton--it was Dulverton, wasn't it, David?--who thought
to deceive one of Cornbury's Dragoons? A little tow tied to his
thumbs did the trick, and I'll swear he's nursing his burns now.
There's no tow to be had hereabouts, but I'll warrant a little dry
heather will suffice. Now, sirrah, which way did the rebel go?"

"What! you won't answer?" he continued, as he dismounted from his
horse, his comrade following his example. Whipping out his
broadsword, he struck me a heavy blow on the ankle with the flat of
the weapon. The pain was intense, yet, though an involuntary cry
escaped me, I kept my lips tightly closed.

I gave a hasty look right and left along the straight white road.
Not a creature was in sight. Even if there had been, 'twas difficult
to imagine that a solitary wayfarer would dare to interfere with two
armed and powerful ruffians.

"Pluck me a wisp of dry grass," said my tormentor.

"Nay, Jim," replied the other, "we've no time to waste in that
fashion. If the rebel is making off afoot, every moment is precious.
I know of a way." And, thrusting his huge fingers through my
sister's golden locks, he shouted, "Now, sirrah, answer, or I'll
pull out a handful of hair, to remember this pleasant meeting."

Constance cried with pain as the villain slowly tightened his grip.
Knowing he was quite capable of carrying out his threat, I was torn
with conflicting thoughts, till my brave sister exclaimed, "Not a
word, Clifford!"

Possibly the rogue answering to the name of Jim realized my
desperate intention, for at the risk of my life I was on the point
of dashing my clenched fist in the face of Constance's assailant.
With his right hand the dragoon gripped me by the nape of the neck,
so that in his powerful grasp I was as helpless as a kitten; while
with his left he caught and slowly twisted my wrist.

Suddenly a huge, dark form sprang from the concealing heather, and
like an arrow from a bow Jeremy Miles flung himself upon the dragoon
whose fingers were still grasping Constance's tresses.

I saw it all as clearly as if 'twere the work of minutes rather than
of one instant. A swinging blow of the Captain's ponderous fist, and
the ruffian's arm fell nerveless to his side; and a second blow
stretched him lifeless on the ground. The other dragoon, with a
furious oath, flung me headlong. As I fell I heard the crashing
explosion of his pistol.

Slowly I raised myself on my arm, and watched the struggle betwixt
our preserver and his antagonist. Powerful though the trooper was,
the Captain, thanks to his strenuous life afloat, was his master.
For a while they swayed to and fro in a desperate struggle, Jeremy's
arms clasping the soldier like bands of steel, till the villain's
resistance grew weaker and weaker.

Then, with a superhuman effort, Captain Miles wrenched his bulky foe
clean off the ground, and hurled him, like a sack of flour, over his
shoulder.

"Bear a hand with your sister, lad," he then exclaimed, in a
matter-of-fact tone, although he was breathing heavily. "She has
swooned."

This was a work of some difficulty, for water was not at hand, but
at length Constance opened her eyes. Poor girl! Although not much
hurt, for the rogue had not had time to carry out his threat to the
fullest extent, she was terribly frightened, and the sight of the
two dragoons lying motionless on the road did not help matters.

"Take her down the road a little way, and make her sit down," said
Captain Jeremy kindly. "Then hasten back, for I'll warrant we've a
fine job to make all shipshape and Bristol fashion."

"Have you seen any more of these lubbers?" he asked, after I had
returned from carrying out his instructions.

"There was a troop of them in Lyndhurst this morning. They went
Southampton-wards."

"I'll pray that they'll not return in a hurry," he exclaimed. "We've
enough to do to cover up our tracks."

"Are they dead?" I asked shudderingly.

"As a marline-spike," he replied. "For the time we are safe; they
were the only ones that battened themselves to me. The Duke is
taken. I saw him seized by some of Portman's Militia near Ringwood
but yesterday. Faith! I was disappointed in King Monmouth, for he
fled from the field long before his men began to give way."

"And how did you escape?"

"'Twas touch and go. Monmouth, in a peasant's dress, lay hidden in
some ferns, I but ten yards away. Little did I think 'twas the Duke
till I heard Portman say as 'twas. I suppose that find satisfied
them, for they searched no more. Farmer Shearing of Ringwood lent me
his mare, and I rode off early this morning, intending to shape a
course for Pitt's Deep, for 'twould have been madness to return to
Lymington. Master Hammond, I was a fool even to set out for the
West. What I've seen in forty years afloat is naught to what I've
seen these last few days. But let's to work!"

We thereupon dragged the bodies of the troopers into the bracken,
and carefully obliterated all signs of the struggle. The troopers'
horses were contentedly nibbling the coarse grass by the roadside,
our pony Trotter having followed Constance.

They were fine animals, these dragoons' mounts, and I wondered what
would become of them. The same question evidently troubled Captain
Miles, for if they came within hearing of a trumpet call they would
most likely trot off to rejoin their fellows. Yet, as there were no
troopers within several miles of us, the horses might be taken by
some of the peasants who lived on the outskirts of the heath,
especially if we removed the saddlery.

"Nay, 'tis too much of a risk," muttered Jeremy to himself, though I
heard the words; and, lifting the fore-foot of one of the animals,
he examined its hoof. There, in a manner that could not be effaced,
were the royal monogram and regimental number; while a further
search revealed the government mark branded on the creature's flank.

"Those marks are their death warrant," he exclaimed.

"How so?"

"No man cares for a dumb animal more than I do," he replied. "Yet,
when human life and liberty are at stake, it behoves us to take
stern measures. Now, I pray you, take your sister home, and return
speedily with a pair of serviceable spades."

So saying, he led the two animals aside into the gorse, while I
hastened to rejoin Constance. We had barely gone a hundred paces
when a pistol shot rang out, quickly followed by another.

"What sound is that?" asked my sister.

"'Tis but naught," I replied, not daring to tell her the plain
truth. "Captain Miles has unloaded the troopers' pistols."




CHAPTER III

Captain Jeremy's Surprise.


"What hath befallen you?" asked my father anxiously, as we crossed
the threshold of the house. "Ye are both as pale as ghosts, and your
clothes, Clifford, are smothered in dust. Hath Trotter thrown you?"

For answer, Constance sat down upon a settle and sobbed
hysterically, while my father, stopping abruptly his task of
questioning us, bestirred himself to comfort her.

"Two dragoons have molested us," I announced. "They were in pursuit
of Captain Miles."

"Have they hurt you?" he asked.

"Nay, but little--thanks to the Captain." In a few words I related
the incidents that had terminated in the death of the two villains.
My father looked grave.

"And Jeremy?" he asked. "Hath he gone to Lymington?"

"Nay, he awaits me by the Beaulieu bridle path."

"'Tis well for him, though I am loath to risk His Majesty's
displeasure in succouring rebels. Yet, especially as he did befriend
you, I'll do my best to repay Jeremy's kindness. He must not go to
Lymington, Clifford."

"He doth not intend to do so," said I. "He is making for Pitt's
Deep."

"Equally as rash as if he journeyed to Lymington. I, too, heard the
news this morning soon after you left. The dragoons watch every mile
of this part of the coast, and at every little port a watch is set,
so that no strangers dare set foot on shipboard without being
closely questioned. My son, I take the risk even of harbouring a
rebel. I'll go with thee and speak my mind with friend Jeremy."

Bidding Martha, our housekeeper, stay with Constance, and impressing
upon her the necessity for silence as to what had occurred, my
father, taking a mattock in his hand, set out to the scene of the
encounter, I accompanying him, and carrying the spades over my
shoulder.

"Where is the package I bade you bring from Lyndhurst?" he asked, as
we left the outskirts of the village.

I searched the pockets of my doublet without success, though I was
certain that the article had been safely placed in one of them.

"It must have fallen out on the road," I replied.

"'Tis a grave matter," he said, with a look of anxiety and a gesture
of impatience. "How can I--but there! if 't comes to the worst, I
must journey into Southampton myself. 'Tis the fortune of war."

No more was said, for we were already in sight of the cross-roads,
and Captain Miles was sitting on the bracken-covered bank awaiting
us.

"Good day to you, Cap'n Hammond!" he exclaimed as we approached.
"'Tis a sad business dragging you and yours into this bickering."

"Yet, thanks to Heaven and your aid, my children were saved from the
clutches of those rogues."

"Had it not been for me the rascals would not have been here,"
replied Captain Miles apologetically. "Yet I thank you, sir, for
coming to my assistance, though 'tis to the advantage of this part
of the countryside that we hide this carrion," and he pointed with
his finger to the bodies of the two dragoons.

We set to work with a will, and in less than a quarter of an hour a
shallow trench was dug sufficiently deep to receive the corpses of
the ruffianly soldiers.

"Egad! 'tis warm work," exclaimed my father, leaning on his mattock
as the first part of the task was completed.

"I'm right sorry I've no rum to offer you," said Captain Miles,
wiping his heated brow. "You see, we're not aboard the old
_Venture_, otherwise 'twould be different."

"I, too, regret that I brought not my flask of cordials," replied my
father.

"There is a bottle of strong waters that I found close to the body
of one of these villains," remarked Jeremy; "but though I did make
three good attempts at it, 'twas more than I could stomach. It
smells aright, but the taste--faugh! I have it in my mouth yet. Try
it, Captain Hammond, and see if it suit thy palate."

So saying, he produced a bottle and handed it to my father, who gave
an exclamation of surprise, quickly followed by a hearty laugh.

"Why, what's amiss?" asked the astonished Captain, as my father
thrust the bottle into his pocket.

"Hist! I'll tell thee anon," said my sire mysteriously. "Now, let's
resume our task."

The carcasses of the troopers' horses, the victims of Captain
Miles's self-preservation, were next interred; while, to make doubly
sure, the mount that Jeremy had borrowed from the Ringwood farmer
was also buried.

This done, I happened to cross the highway, where, to my surprise, I
found the wrappings of the package for which we had journeyed into
Lyndhurst on that eventful morning.

"See! here is the covering of your packet," I exclaimed, holding it
up to my father's view.

"Aye, Clifford, I know it. Say no more on this matter."

Inwardly wondering, I obeyed. Whatever the package contained, I now
felt certain that 'twas the same stuff as Jeremy Miles had attempted
to swallow.

"Now, look you, Captain Miles," said my father, as we prepared to
return homewards, "neither Lymington nor Pitt's Deep offers an
asylum for you. To go to either place is to set your head in a trap.
I have made up my mind that you must tarry with us at Brockenhurst
till this storm has blown over."

"Nay, 'tis unfair to saddle you with the presence of a proclaimed
rebel," objected Captain Jeremy stoutly. "The service I rendered
your children does not warrant such a generous payment. I'll accept
your hospitality for this night, and at sunrise to-morrow I'll make
my way into Sussex. I know of an old shipmate at Shoreham who'll
gladly set me across to France."

"You'll never get out of Hampshire, my friend," interrupted my
father; "at least, not yet awhile. Perchance the tide of monarchy
will change again, though, mark you, I'd far rather have James
Stuart as my lawful sovereign than James Walters. No, no, I say;
further flight is out of the question. At Brockenhurst you will stay
till I give you leave to go farther afield."

'Twas no light matter to smuggle the fugitive into our home; but we
did it, and for the next week or more Captain Miles remained within
doors, my father having pointed out to him the secret panel in case
of an emergency. This surprised me not a little, for he was usually
very reticent about this matter. True, I had been told of the
existence of the hiding-place, but even Constance was kept in
ignorance of it. The person who contrived the sliding panel must
have done his work well, for no one unacquainted with its mechanism
could cause it to move. But I've said enough concerning this matter,
for although 'tis well known that our home does possess such a
contrivance, its position and the method of working it still remain
a secret locked in the breast of a trusted few, and 'twould not be
doing my duty towards the Hammonds that are to come were I to say
more.

Yet there was no reason for alarm. Though troops of horse often
passed through Brockenhurst on their way to and from Lymington, none
stopped to search for rebels. Neither did the disappearance of two
of Cornbury's Dragoons cause any trouble, for we learnt that they
were set down as deserters, while, as good fortune would have it, a
report came in that two men answering their description had been
seen riding northwards out of Salisbury.

One morning I was seated with Captain Jeremy in the little room
where he was wont to spend most of his time. Often I would go
thither to be regaled with stories of his voyage to the Indies and
his adventures in foreign parts, till my young blood coursed madly
through my veins; and so strange were some of the tales he told that
I'm afraid his share of imagination must have been a double one.

In the midst of his narrative on this particular day, my father
entered, having just returned from Lymington Town.

"I have bad news for you," he announced.

"'Tis not the first time, Captain Hammond," replied Jeremy
composedly. "What is it this time?"

"The sheriff hath taken possession of your house, and it and all its
contents are to be sold by candle auction."[1]

"'Tis the fortune of war," said Captain Miles, removing his long
clay pipe from his lips and puffing out a thick cloud of smoke. "I
expected it, and provided for it ere I left for Monmouth's camp.
What money I possess, beyond what I require for my present
disbursements, I have stowed away in the hold of the good ship
'Never-Sink'--to wit, Mother Earth. But there is one thing I'd be
glad to lay my hands on. Wouldst be willing to buy a certain article
out of my house?"

"Would I could buy the lot!"

"Nay, 'tis but a picture--a painting of my good barque the
_Venture_, done in oils by a rascally Neapolitan, for which he
charged me five ducats, though he did place the chain plates too far
aft, and the spritsail yard above the bowsprit."

"'Tis a common fault with a landlubber," said my parent.
"Nevertheless, I'll see to it."

"I prize the painting but lightly," continued Jeremy; "but there's
more in it than meets the eye."

"I do not understand."

"Captain Hammond, you've treated me right nobly, and 'twould ill
become me were I not to repay you to the utmost of my power. I'll be
straightforward in this matter. Listen!"

My father motioned to me to leave them, but, perceiving the gesture,
Captain Jeremy exclaimed:

"No, no, let the lad remain, for 'tis also to his advantage to hear.
That picture contains the true and only clue to the lost treasure
ship _Madre de Dios_."


[1] This custom appears to be fairly common in south-coast ports. In
September, 1628, the Mayor of Portsmouth reported to the Admiralty
that "The The Gift of God", prize, was sold on the last day of
August by the burning of a candle.




CHAPTER IV

The _Madre de Dios_


My father opened his eyes wide, and his mouth also, so that his pipe
clattered on the oaken floor and was broken into a score of
fragments.

"The _Madre de Dios_!" he exclaimed at length. "You speak truly--the
same _Madre de Dios_ concerning which Fergusson adventured himself
in the last reign?"

"The same, Captain Hammond. I have the secret under my thumb."

"You know where the wreck lies hidden?"

"Aye, but that matters little. The treasure is not in her, but lies
in a safe place."

Even I had heard the wonderful story of the Spanish treasure ship.
'Twas well known that in the last century Sir John Berkeley, during
his attack upon Porto Rico, had captured a Spanish caravel, the
_Madre de Dios_. On her he found pearls worth ten thousand ducats,
gold dust, ingots, and other treasure to the value of 400,000
pounds. Of this vast spoil Sir John shipped about one-half aboard
his own ship, sending the _Madre_ under convoy for England. The
caravel, overtaken by a furious north-easterly gale, was lost with
all hands amongst the islands of the Lesser Antilles, and although
expeditions innumerable had been sent out to discover the wreck,
none had met with success. If Captain Jeremy Miles was not deceiving
himself and us also, a king's ransom was almost within his grasp.

"Pardon me if I put it bluntly," said my father, "but if you know
where the treasure lies, why have you not recovered it ere now?"

"That I'll explain, methinks, to your satisfaction, though 'tis a
long story. Yet, to put it briefly, I was cast away on the island
where the treasure lieth in the year 1674. For two years I was cut
off from my fellow-men, till a Spanish barque took me off. It goes
without saying that I told the Dons naught concerning the treasure;
but on setting foot in England once more, I took steps to obtain
command of a vessel trading with the Indies. Yet ill fortune
thwarted my purpose."

"How so?"

"Head winds and pestilence. Then, though I was averse to sharing my
secret, I applied to my Lord Rochester to intercede with the King;
but, since I was only a plain merchant captain, and no King's
officer, my lord must needs flout me and deride my statement."

"My Lord Rochester had his own views on this matter, I take it,"
remarked my father. "There were no less than forty applications to
his late Majesty from would-be treasure seekers. Fergusson went and
failed; Captain Calcott did likewise, and now Phipps has been gone
these two years, spending the King's money and using his ships of
war, which might be more profitably employed elsewhere. Nay, I
cannot blame my Lord Rochester."

"But I do!" exclaimed Captain Miles vehemently. "Not for his
refusal, mark you, for he's the loser on't, but for his churlish
manner. 'Twas mainly for this reason that I set out to join
Monmouth's standard, for, had all been well, I am certain he would,
as a man of spirit and enterprise, have been willing to grant me aid
in the search."

"The Duke will need all his spirit and enterprise to save his neck
from the headsman's axe," replied my father. "But concerning this
matter?"

"I have a proposal to make, Captain Hammond. But ere we go farther,
'tis worth while laying hands on the chart."

"Aye," replied my father. "The sale is fixed for to-morrow, so I'll
to Lymington and secure the picture at all costs."

The subject was then dropped for the time, yet I did not fail to
notice that my sire was by no means in his usual spirits, but seemed
preoccupied, and inclined to irritability. Constance, too, noticed
the change.

"What doth he ponder over?" she asked. "Is there fresh trouble
coming upon us? Have they discovered aught of that affair on the
Lyndhurst Road?" and she gave a little shudder at the remembrance of
it.

"Nay," I replied. "That affair has, I hope, blown over. Something is
in the wind, nevertheless, for I doubt not that our father and
Captain Miles are engaging upon some profitable enterprise; it may
happen that a voyage to the West Indies will restore the fortunes of
our house."

"But will father have to go to sea again?" she asked anxiously.

"It may so happen," I replied.

"And you----?"

"I would I could," I rejoined earnestly, for 'twas my cherished
ambition to go to sea; yet I feared my father would withhold his
consent.

The next day my father and I rode into Lymington, and having left
our horses at the "Hart", we repaired to Jeremy's house.

It was a long, low-built, thatched-roofed building, standing at the
bottom of the steep High Street, and overlooking the muddy harbour
where the Lym stream joins the sea. The door and the frames of the
diamond-paned windows were painted a vivid green--possibly the work
of the energetic seaman; while above the porch was nailed an effigy
of a woman holding an arrow in her hand--the figurehead of one of
his former vessels.

Crowds of eager and curious townsfolk were gathered without the door
on which the sheriff's notice of the sale was affixed, while two
tip-staves, escorting a lean, pale-faced man, were trying to force
their way through the press of onlookers.

"'Tis the attorney for the Crown," whispered my father, pointing to
the white-faced man, who was evidently ill at ease. "'Tis fortunate
for him that he has a troop of horse within ear-shot, or I'll
warrant he would have a warm reception."

But even the presence of the soldiers, who were drawn up in an alley
leading to the quay, did not prevent volleys of rotten eggs and
street garbage being directed against the sheriff's representative,
till, the door being opened, he disappeared within, followed by the
incensed townsfolk. Jeremy was, as I have mentioned, a general
favourite in and around Lymington; and, besides, his rash
participation in the revolt was not unfavourably regarded by his
fellow-townsmen, who took this opportunity of expressing their
practical sympathy with the absent Captain.

By dint of much elbowing we succeeded in gaining admission to the
house, and, to my inexperienced eyes, the scene within was strange
and pathetically interesting, as preparations were made to dispose
of our friend's goods and chattels.

By threats, entreaties, and commands the sheriff's officer obtained
comparative quiet, and amidst the groans of his audience he read the
proclamation setting forth that the house and goods of Captain
Jeremy Miles, he having been declared a traitor to His Majesty King
James, were to be sold forthwith.

Thereupon one of the tip-staves produced a long wax candle having a
number of metal pegs stuck into it at regular intervals. This he
proceeded to light; the first lot was announced, and the highest
bid, ere the uppermost peg fell from the melted wax, secured the
submitted article.

In the excitement, as bidder after bidder was outbidden, even the
voices of the malcontents were hushed; while as peg after peg
dropped out and rebounded from the oaken table, the clang of the
hammer could scarce drown the angry remonstrances of the
disappointed would-be purchasers.

Thus the auction proceeded, and from room to room we went, watching
the disposal of the Captain's goods. One or two instruments of
navigation my father secured, though, as I knew he already possessed
similar ones, I guessed that they were for Jeremy's future use.

At length the parlour was reached, and between the heads of the
crowd and the low, raftered ceiling I caught a glimpse of the
fateful painting--a ship under all plain sail, set with a vivid blue
sea and a cloudless sky of an almost similar colour.

My father marked it likewise, for he straightened himself, and
coughed slightly once or twice to clear his throat.

"Lot Seventy-two. A painting by a worthy Neapolitan artist, Messer
Tito Cozzini, of--of--I cannot decipher the place--methinks it looks
like Foggia."

The taper was again applied to the candle, the feeble light
flickering dimly in the dusty, crowded room. No one seemed anxious
to possess the work of art, for my father, concealing his
impatience, had purposely withheld his bid. The metal peg began to
droop in its support of melting wax.

"A crown," said my father.




CHAPTER V

The Chart


"And sixpence."

A voice like the bellowing of a bull burst from the corner of the
room, while its owner began to force his way vigorously through the
crowd towards the rostrum.

"Six shillings."

The peg gave a decided jerk, but still remained in the wax.

"Six shillings and sixpence."

"Seven shillings."

Ping! The metal pin tinkled on the table, the hammer descended, and
the picture was ours.

A muttered oath caused me to turn my head and look behind. The
unsuccessful bidder was a short, bull-necked man, with clean-shaven,
red complexioned features, closely cropped hair, save for a bob
hanging over his neck; and powerfully-built shoulders and arms.

With a violent effort to conceal his disappointment, the stranger
backed his way through the crowd, and was lost to view.

To disarm suspicion, we remained for nearly another hour; then,
having paid the sheriff's clerk the amount of the purchase money, my
father took possession of the painting and the nautical instruments,
and handed them over to the care of a lad, with instructions to
follow us.

Having mounted our horses, we rode them at a walking pace, the youth
panting at our heels, for the day was excessively warm.

As we were passing Buckland Rings I chanced to glance over my
shoulder at our follower, and in so doing I caught sight of a man
stealing cautiously along in the shadow of the trees at about two
hundred paces off. It was the unsuccessful bidder for Captain
Miles's picture.

"How say you?" asked my father. "The rascal means no good;" and
abruptly wheeling his steed, he trotted back to the edge of the
clump of pines that stand betwixt the highway and those relics of
paganism commonly known in the district as "The Rings".

Yet though we searched the clump and the far side of the hillock as
well, our efforts were in vain.

"Your eyes have deceived you, Clifford," said my sire, as we
cantered along the road to overtake the lad with his precious
burden. Though I felt certain on the point, I refrained from
insisting that I was right, and without further happening we reached
our house, though I was continually turning in the saddle to see if
we were followed by the discomfited rogue.

Having to attend the Verderers' Court that afternoon, my father
could devote no time to his purchase until the evening, though I was
burning with impatience to see the chart revealed, and felt certain
my parent was in a like state.

"'Tis well done," exclaimed Captain Jeremy with undisguised delight,
when he saw the painting. "Now, Captain Hammond, we'll cut the
canvas and get the chart."

"Nay," remonstrated my father, laughing; "the picture cost me seven
shillings, and 'tis a pity to spoil it for the sake of being
overhasty. Bring a mallet and chisel, Clifford, and we'll prise open
the back."

This was accordingly done, and as the heavy boards were removed from
the frame a musty piece of parchment, creased in several places, was
disclosed to view.

"Here 'tis," declared Captain Jeremy, pointing with his yellow
finger. "There lies the _Madre_ treasure."

The chart was a good yard in length, and about three spans in
breadth. It had evidently been drawn with a considerable amount of
care, the names being neatly inserted. In the top right corner,
spanned by a compass, was a scale of leagues, while in the left was
a representation of the mariner's compass. Three strange-looking
vessels, with towering forecastles and poops, and a veritable
network of rhumb-lines, covered all the portion of the chart that
was supposed to represent the ocean. In the bottom left-hand corner,
which had been greatly thumb-marked, were the letters "...go
Ribero", and the date "1529"; and marked by a rough circle, drawn,
it seemed, at a later date, was the position of an island, against
which appeared the words: "Much golde here--_Madre de Dios_, 1599".

"This is an old Spanish chart," said Captain Miles, "yet 'tis
accurate enough for our purpose. Even Generals Penn and Venables,
when they took Jamaica, freely acknowledged that none of our making
could equal it."

"'Tis a sovereign piece of work," assented my father. "But methinks
you said the position was known only to you? How comes it,
therefore, that this chart has the spot marked fair and legibly?"

"Therein have many men been deceived," replied Captain Jeremy. "That
was placed thereon for the purpose. Mark you a small cross on the
island?--'tis a good two leagues from the wrongly marked spot. On my
word of honour, I can testify that there lieth the treasure. Now,
what say you, Captain Hammond? Will you join with me in prosecuting
a search? for freely in my gratitude will I share the gains with
you. Yet 'tis but fair to give you full warning, though I heed it
not. 'Tis said that the treasure of the _Madre de Dios_ is under a
curse, and only through bloodshed and fire can it be regained. This
was the curse of the Friar Pedro Lopez, whom, 'tis avowed, Sir John
Berkeley threw overboard with his own hands."

"The matter is a weighty one," replied my father, as he proceeded to
replace the back of the frame. "I Even should the treasure be yet
undiscovered, there arises the question of the cost of fitting out a
ship. Were I a man of wealth I'd not be averse from adventuring a
round sum. As for the friar's curse, I heed it not."

"Neither have I much wealth, seeing that my house and goods were in
the sheriff's hands this day," observed Captain Jeremy, with a grim
smile. "Yet, as I have said heretofore, I have hidden a certain sum.
This, though 'tis my all, I would gladly devote to the enterprise;
and, forsooth, a man could not give better pledge of his sincerity."

"'Tis not that I doubt your sincerity, and I crave your pardon
should I have touched upon a tender spot. Now, I pray you, explain
the chart, inasmuch as it concerns the treasure island."

Thus encouraged, Captain Jeremy carefully filled his long clay pipe,
and resting the glowing bowl on the edge of the table (somewhat, I
fear, to my father's displeasure, though he made no sign on 't), he
proceeded to point out the characteristics of the island, the shoals
and currents in its vicinity, the secure anchorage, and where a boat
could make a landing without hazard to itself or its crew.

To all this I listened intently, my eyes glistening with excitement;
but, greatly to my disappointment, just as Captain Miles was about
to explain how and where the _Madre_ treasure lay hidden, my father
exclaimed:

"The hour is late, Clifford, therefore bid us good night and go to
bed."

There was no help for it; I retired from the room reluctantly,
pausing for one instant to gaze upon the scene, as the two
bronzed-faced seamen bent eagerly over the musty parchment, the key
to the undertaking that was, we hoped, to restore the house of
Hammond to its former affluence.




CHAPTER VI

A Midnight Intruder


Although the day had opened fine and bright, the evening had brought
with it an unwelcome change in the weather. A south-westerly gale,
blowing straight from the English Channel, swept across the land,
accompanied by heavy downpours of rain and hail; while ever and anon
vivid flashes of lightning, followed by deafening peals of thunder
that shook the house to its foundations, would pierce the darkness
of the night.

For more than an hour I remained at my window, watching the flashes
play upon the distant trees of the forest, or light up the rolling
expanse of gorse-clad heath. So fierce was the wind that the
branches of a tree close to my casement were lashed violently
against the thatch, while a tall elm at the edge of the lawn had
been uprooted, and lay athwart the sodden road.

At length the storm receded, and, tired out, I sought repose.

It must have been some time betwixt midnight and dawn, for 'twas
still dark, when I awoke with a start and a vague feeling that
something was amiss.

I had, according to custom, left the casement slightly ajar, the
frame being secured by an iron quadrant. This contrivance fitted
tightly, and 'twould be impossible for it to move of itself; yet I
heard the creaking of the metalwork as the casement was slowly and
cautiously opened, for the wind had now died utterly away, and all
else was still save for the pattering of the water from the eaves.

Overcome by a nameless terror, I lay motionless in my bed, thinking
'twas the Evil One coming in person to bear me bodily away.[1]

Slowly a dark, sinister figure, barely distinguishable against the
gloom without, crept silently through the now open window, past the
foot of my bed, and out by the unlatched door of the room,
smothering as it did so a sneeze.

That sneeze aroused my courage, for never in all the worthy Doctor
Colling's discourses had I heard of the Evil One sneezing. The
intruder was a robber!

However, I remained silent and motionless till the unwelcome
stranger had time to get clear of the room; then, boldly springing
out of bed, I crept softly to my father's room.

At the first touch of my hand he was wide-awake, thanks once more
to his active life afloat, but had the good sense to refrain from
speaking aloud.

In a few words I explained the situation, and without hesitation he
sprang from his bed, armed himself with a petronel, and hastened
downstairs to surprise and, if possible, capture the intruder, I
following closely and silently at his heels.

But in the few minutes of undisturbed action the robber had not been
idle, for ere my father gained the lowermost stair he tripped
suddenly over a broom handle cunningly placed there for that
purpose, and falling headlong, the petronel exploded with a vivid
flash and a stunning report, the bullets crashing through the
wainscot.

In a moment he was on his feet again, only to meet the robber as he
dashed for freedom. In the darkness I heard the sounds of a furious
struggle, but, being unable to distinguish friend from foe, I was
compelled to stand inactive and useless:

Suddenly there was an exclamation of pain, followed by a heavy thud,
and the next instant I was thrust violently against the wall as a
powerful, agile figure tore past me and up the staircase.

A terrific crash of broken glass was followed by the shrieks of old
Martha and groans in the darkness, while I heard Captain Jeremy
rushing from his room, shouting for lights to be brought.

When at length we found tinder and steel and a light was provided,
my father was seen lying on his face, bleeding profusely from a
wound in the right side.

"Water!" he gasped feebly. "I am done for!" and before we could
raise him from the floor he had swooned.

Jeremy, cursing loudly, was at first for pursuing the murderous
villain who had dealt the fell blow, but pursuit was not to be
thought of when we saw my father's desperate condition. Fearing to
carry him upstairs to his own chamber, we lifted him into the
dining-room, where we placed his senseless form on a
roughly-constructed couch.

Constance had now joined us, and though trembling with fear and
anxiety, she alone suggested the wisest course.

"Run, Clifford, for a chirurgeon!" she exclaimed, and, hatless and
shoeless, though I had found time to don my clothing, I tore over
the sodden fields to the house of Master Blackwood, who lived well
on the outskirts of the village.

Seeing the case was urgent, though I could but babble an incoherent
summons, the surgeon came quickly; and having made a hasty
examination, the grave look on his clear-cut features showed that my
sire was in dire peril of death.

Having dressed the wound, Master Blackwood applied himself to
restoring his patient to consciousness, and while this was being
done my glance fell upon the picture--or, rather, the frame--that my
father had bought but a few short hours ago.

The painting was missing, cut from the frame by a sharp knife.
Almost at the same time Captain Miles noticed the empty frame, and,
in spite of his accustomed coolness, his jaw dropped.

"Alack-a-day! A sorry pass! 'Tis the friar's curse come home," he
muttered huskily.

Slowly the pale dawn struggled for the mastery with the feeble
flicker of the rushlight till, in a mantle of vivid crimson hue, the
sun rose red and angry in the eastern sky.

Then, and only then, could we see the full extent of the mischief
that the robber had wrought. That the precious chart had been the
object of his entry there could be no doubt, for in the short space
of time ere he was disturbed he had made straight for the painting
that formerly concealed the parchment.

The shattered broomstick, a dark pool of blood at the foot of the
stairs, and the shot-marked wainscot were silent evidences of the
tragedy; while I found the hilt of a knife wedged firmly in the
wall, close to where I was hurled by the escaping miscreant.

Then I remembered the incident, and to my surprise I found that I
had a clean cut in the right shoulder. Though it had bled somewhat,
in my excitement I had been unaware of it; yet 'twas a narrow
escape.

"There's more behind this affair than we wot of," remarked Captain
Jeremy. "The rogue had doubtless watched us through the window
whilst your father and I were talking of the matter of the treasure,
for I bear to mind the shutters were not drawn. Then, finding that
the iron bars across the lower windows prevented him from entering
save by much labour and trouble, he scaled the tree without your
casement and entered your room. But, Clifford, sorry though I be for
your father's plight and sore hurt, 'tis a fortunate thing that the
robber was foiled, for, see you, I had the chart with me, placed
under my pillow for safety. As for the picture of the old _Venture_,
'tis of little account, though I did set some store on it for the
sake of bygone times."

"But concerning the robber?" I asked. "If we are to inform the watch
there will be danger of your discovery, yet I am loath to let the
villain go unhindered."

"'Tis a matter that requires much consideration," he replied
gravely. "I call to mind when I was on board the barque _Furie_
within sight of Port Royal. A fire broke out for'ard and threatened
to consume us; our longboat and shallop were damaged, while
alongside were swarms of sharks. As we could not save ourselves by
flight, we fought the flames so determinedly that we put out the
fire, though it seemed a well-nigh impossible task."

"And what of it?" I asked perplexedly, for I failed to grasp the
Captain's meaning.

"You see, Master Clifford, this house, in a manner of speaking, is
the burning craft, the King's officers are the sharks; so, until we
know your father's pleasure in this business, I would that nothing
be said concerning the affair. Master Blackwood I know to be a
stanch and upright man who detests the unlawful practices of King
James; he will keep silence. Your sister, also, I know to be
circumspect; but I have my doubts about Martha, for the tongues of
serving women, especially old ones, are apt to wag."

"I am content to let the matter rest for the present," I replied;
and crossing the hall, I laid hold of the knife that was still fixed
in the wainscot. It took much strength to wrench it free, and no
little care, for the broken blade was as sharp as a razor. The steel
was about a span in length, and wet for about half that distance
with my father's blood. As I cleaned it, my eyes fell upon some
letters engraved upon the blade. Worn though the steel was, I
deciphered the letters "...emento mori".

"'Tis perchance the name of the cutler," said Captain Miles, taking
the steel out of my hand and examining it carefully.

"Nay; 'tis certain you have not noticed similar words in Lymington
Church," I replied. "The first letter is on the other portion of the
broken blade, and the completed sentence is the Latin for 'Remember
you must die'. I'll have a hilt fitted to this portion, Captain
Jeremy, and should ill befall my father, the motto will guide me in
the tracing of the villain."

"Strange it may be," remarked the Captain reflectively, "but now I
recall an old shipmate of mine who bought a dagger in Lisbon with
these words. He was, I remember, an ill-favoured creature."

"Was he short in stature, and bull-necked?" I asked eagerly.

"Nay," replied my companion, shaking his head; "you are on the wrong
tack. Your father hath told me of the man you have in mind--the one
who would have bought the picture, though, sink me! I cannot imagine
why he should set such store on it. Nay; the man, though short in
stature, was as thin as a handspike. But, my lad," he said kindly,
"you look as white as a sheet. Here, take a turn in the garden, for
the place smells like a charnel-house. Keep within ear-shot, lest
you are wanted."

With a heavy heart I obeyed, having first obtained Constance's aid
in applying a bandage to my wounded shoulder.

The damage done by yesternight's gale was enormous, though I paid
little heed to the scene of desolation, but, stepping over the
broken branches that everywhere littered the ground, walked round to
the back of the house, whence the robber had made his escape.

He had left by the same means as he had entered--through the
casement of my room and down the tree that unfortunately provided a
ready means of descent. Curiosity prompted me to examine the trunk,
and on so doing I found traces of blood on the bark. I noticed that,
if viewed from the window, the marks of blood were on the right-hand
side of the trunk, and, as the fugitive must have descended with his
face towards the bark, 'twas evident that he had been wounded on the
right side of his person; and by the quantity of the blood it was
further evident that the wound was of a severe nature.

Then the thought flashed across my mind: the villain was sore hurt,
his track lay fresh upon the grass; why should I not follow him?

Running back to the house, I loaded my fowling-piece, and calling
Bruno, my lurcher, I started in pursuit.


[1] Lest Clifford be thought a weak-minded coward, it is well to
explain that previous to and during the seventeenth century there
was a strong popular belief in the corporal presence of the Evil
One. The study of any contemporary writer will confirm this. A
notable example is afforded by the panic of Robinson Crusoe on
discovering a dying goat in the darkness of a cave: "I saw two broad
shining eyes of some creature, whether devil or man I knew not".




CHAPTER VII

The Cave in the Lonely Heath


The track was clearly defined, the sinister dark patches showing
boldly upon the bright green grass with the utmost regularity. The
man had certainly fled in a north-easterly direction, towards Black
Down, the densest part of the forest. He had a start of at least six
hours, but, even had he not already swooned from loss of blood, this
advantage was slight. In my enthusiasm I imagined that the rogue was
already my prisoner, marching, with my piece at his head, towards
the common jail at Lymington.

The tell-tale line of spots crossed the highway and led on to the
gorse-clad heath, but though there were evidences that the fugitive
had blundered into many bushes in his flight in the dark, the
general direction remained the same. At this I wondered not a
little, for from my forest experience I knew that a man crossing an
open space in the dark would, without a light or other means to
guide him, inevitably make a wide circle, unless he had the sense to
keep his course by observing the direction of the wind. Yet I knew
that after the storm the wind had died utterly away, so that the
circumstance seemed stranger still.

I suppose I had not gone half a mile when, thrown behind some
bushes, I espied the picture that the rogue had cut from its frame.
There were signs that he had made a lengthy halt, one being a large
dark stain upon the damp soil, showing that much blood had been
spilled. Another thing I conjectured: he had discovered that the
chart was not, as evidently he had imagined, part of the picture,
and in his rage he had thrown it aside. That being so, it showed
that day had dawned ere he could have become acquainted with the
failure of his fell designs.

Making the canvas into a roll, I slipped it into my belt, and
continued my way.

On and on I went, sometimes breaking into a run, keeping both a
sharp lookout in case of a surprise and a careful watch on the dull
brown track, which now began to show at greater intervals than
heretofore.

At length my progress was stopped by a narrow, gurgling stream that
flowed southwards between gravelly banks lined with bushes and
dwarfed trees. This stream I knew to be the Lym, the same that joins
the sea at Lymington.

Here I was thwarted, for though I took off my hose and shoes and
waded over the clayey bottom, not the slightest track could I find
on the farther bank. I walked both up and down stream for nearly a
quarter of a mile, carefully examining the soft clay, which would
assuredly reveal any trace of footprints after the heavy rain of the
previous night; but the bank was innocent of any traces of human
agency, though I encountered well-defined marks of ponies, deer, and
otters.

Sick at heart, I now bethought me of Captain Jeremy's warning, so,
uncocking my piece, I shouldered the weapon and set my face
homewards. Bruno, who had followed the trail as keenly as I had
done, seemed to share my dejection, for, instead of keeping a few
paces ahead as he had done on the outward journey, he stuck close to
my heels.

I was not returning by the same path, but rather, I should think,
about two hundred yards to the right of it; yet with the smoke of
the chimneys of Brockenhurst village to guide me I kept steadily
onwards.

Suddenly, almost before I could utter a sound of alarm, the ground
gave way beneath me; the bracken and the gorse seemed to shoot up
past me, and the daylight gave place to semi-darkness.

Instinctively I clutched at the ledge of the pit, but without avail;
then a thousand lights seemed to flash across my eyes, and I lost
consciousness.

When I recovered my senses I found myself lying on the sandy floor
of a natural cave or hollow, into which the light filtered through
an aperture almost above my head--the hole through which I had
fallen.

My head throbbed painfully, and, putting my hands to my forehead, I
found that it was bound with a wet rag. As I moved my arm Bruno
thrust his muzzle against my hand with a low bark of joy; the
faithful dog had evidently followed his master in his fall.

I tried to raise myself into a sitting posture, but the exertion was
too great, and with a stifled exclamation of pain I fell back.

"Lie still, young maäster," exclaimed a gruff though kindly voice.
"You'll be safe enow wi' us."

"Give him a drink o' water," said another. "He'll do better sittin'
up."

With that I felt myself raised and propped against the wall of the
cave, so that I could look about.

Eight or ten men, dressed in rough clothing, some with peajackets,
others in tarpaulins, were either seated on the ground or standing
with folded arms regarding me intently. Two or three had pistols
stuck in their belts, while a pair of heavy cutlasses and a bundle
of stout staves, some with iron spikes, were placed in one corner of
the cave, which was roughly three-sided, and formed by hands, as far
as I could make out in the subdued light.

In the centre of the cavern was the trunk of a young tree, its upper
portion leaning against the aperture overhead, while the branches
had been lopped off sufficiently close to the stem to allow of the
stumps being used as a rough ladder. Two small casks, an earthenware
vessel containing water, a heap of clothing, and a coil of rope
completed the utensils of this subterranean retreat.

"You'll be the son of Cap'n Foul-weather Dick?" asked the man who
had first spoken.

"Yes," I replied, for my questioner had used the name by which my
father was frequently called by the seafaring population of
Lymington.

"'Twas well for you I knew it, for when you came tumbling down that
hole we thought 'twas the sogers, and Bill 'ere got ready to knock
you over th' head. D'ye know me?"

I looked at the man as intently as my throbbing head would allow,
then at his companions. Like an inspiration a thought flashed across
my mind.

"Yes," I answered. "Ye are the men who went with Captain Miles to
the West."

"Aye," said the man referred to as Bill, "an' well we know it. Look
'ee, young maäster, can we trust ye to keep your mouth shut on this
business?"

"I have as weighty a matter on my mind now," I replied. "You can
count upon my silence."

"The youngster's true enow, 'Enery," said Bill. "Maybe he'll lend us
a hand afore long. Look you," he continued, addressing me, "there
are but eleven left of the score of Lymington men who marched to
help the Duke o' Monmouth. Kitt Binns, Carrol Tanner, Cripps, Fred
Dadge--they went down in the fight; young Garge Pitman the
red-coated devils took near Bridgwater. They strung him up on a
gallows at the roadside. Poor fellow, he didn't half give 'em a
rough time afore they did the dirty job, an' I was up to my neck in
a ditch an' saw it all, yet couldn't bear a hand to help him. That
makes five. What happened to the rest of us we don't know--taken,
doubtless, after the fight. Anyways, Cap'n Miles, Joe Scott, Sammy
Cross, an' Long Bristowe won't see Lymington again, I fear, though
we aren't much better off on that score."

"Captain Miles!" I exclaimed. "Why!----" I broke off, though
reasoning that as these men had confided in me, there was little
harm in telling them of Captain Jeremy's hiding-place in our house.

"What of him?" asked several of the men.

"He is alive and well; I saw him scarce two hours ago."

"Hurrah!" exclaimed the men, but softly, for they durst not shout
lest the noise should betray them.

"Alive and well, say you?" repeated 'Enery, a burly, bearded seaman
who, it seemed, had no other name. "'Enery" he answered to, and
'Enery he remains till the close of my story. "But, young maäster,
'tis a good six hours you've been lying 'ere."

"Six hours!" I exclaimed amazedly; then, remembering my father's
condition, I attempted to rise.

"Nay, young sir," said Bill, noticing my effort, "you cannot go home
without aid, and none can we give till Black Lewis comes. But
concerning Captain Jeremy?"

In a few words I told them all I knew of the Captain's adventures,
the men eagerly following every word.

"Tell him," said 'Enery, as I finished my story, "that ten stanch
men await him here. Cooped up like rats in a hold, we durst not show
our faces in Lymington, much less try for a ship; but with Cap'n
Jeremy to lead us, we'll shape a true course yet. Tell him also----"

A low cry like the call of a forest stag for its mate broke upon our
ears. Twice 'twas repeated.

"'Tis Black Lewis," said one of the men, for my information, and the
next instant the bushes overhead were thrust back, and a man began
to descend the rough ladder.

Black Lewis gave no sign of surprise at seeing a lad in the cave. I
knew him by sight, and also by repute--a short, shrivelled-up little
man, with a head that seemed too large and heavy for his body,
wrinkled face, massive and protruding cheek bones, and
sandy-coloured hair. He lived mainly by his wits, killing adders
that infested the forest glades, hawking the skins of animals he
caught, and, no doubt, poaching, though he had as yet managed to
escape being branded as a felon. Some would have it that he was
dullwitted, yet those who thus avowed had often cause to fear his
tongue, which was as sharp as a rapier. He was dressed in loose,
home-made garments of moleskin, and carried a long forked stick in
his hand, not even relinquishing it when he descended the tree
trunk. Over his back was strung a canvas bag, from which he produced
a hare, some eggs, and a flagon of ale.

He readily consented to assist me to my home, and having bade
farewell to the refugee seamen (who had persuaded me to lend them my
fowling-piece), I was slung up the shaft by means of the rope, Bruno
being carried up on the shoulders of one of the men. Once in the
open air I walked strongly, though twice or thrice I reeled, and
would have fallen but for my companion's assistance.

At the entrance to our grounds Black Lewis left me, and just as I
gained the door Captain Jeremy met me. By the look on his face I
knew that some thing was amiss.

"They have searched for you high and low, Master Clifford," said he;
"but thanks be you are safe! Come at once and see your father,
for----"

"He is not dead?" I asked anxiously.

"Nay, lad, but be prepared for the worst. Master Blackwood says
he'll not last the night. If so, he'll pass away before the young
flood sets in."




CHAPTER VIII

Concerning the Events that Prompted Me to a Desperate Resolve


My father had been removed to his room, and was now lying on his
bed, his head and shoulders raised and supported by pillows, for the
nature of his wound had caused him to fight hard for breath.

He was now quite conscious, though very weak. Captain Jeremy
afterwards said that what with cupping and applying leeches Master
Blackwood had kept down the fever, but had also done his patient
more harm than good.

My father knew full well that the end was at hand, yet he faced it
manfully, like the stanch old seaman he was. I fancy his voice
faltered when he spoke to me of Constance, but beyond that he was
calm and collected, giving me advice as to my future, and preparing
himself for the end.

'Tis unnecessary to dwell upon the events of the next few hours, for
the remembrance of that mournful time is an affair for the minds of
our own family; but just before midnight, at dead low water by the
shore, as Captain Jeremy had predicted, my father passed peacefully
away.

Neither do I care to relate too minutely the happenings of the
following week. There was, according to custom, an inquest, but by
mutual consent Captain Jeremy's name was left out of the case,
although we were considerably ill at ease lest old Martha should
babble on't.

Two days after my father had been laid to rest under the great yew
tree in Brockenhurst Churchyard I received a letter from my uncle,
John Hammond, stating that, in accordance with arrangements made
with my father many years ago, he would take up his abode in our
house, and look after the estate.

Captain Jeremy took his departure before my uncle arrived, and
joined the party of Lymington seamen in the cave. He gave me his
assurance that his understanding with my late parent would remain as
before, and that he would, to use his own expression, "keep his
weather eye lifting", and endeavour to find a means of procuring a
stout craft, in order to prosecute his search for the _Madre de
Dios_ treasure.

Shortly after the arrival of my uncle I had an attack of smallpox,
which, Heaven be praised! left me unmarked. Master Blackwood, the
chirurgeon, tended me with the utmost care, though at the time I
feared his remedies more than I did the disorder.

August had run its course, and September was well advanced ere I
could get abroad once more, and during that time much had happened
relating to the ill-fortuned rising in the West.

Monmouth's head had rolled on the scaffold on Tower Hill, and
Jeffreys had completed his circuit of the West, leaving behind him a
never-to-be-forgotten record of cruelty, infamy, and shame, while
his brutal actions in condemning Lady Alice Lisle to the stake
sickened even the most loyal supporters of King James.

Then, and only then, did I realize the risk we had run in harbouring
Captain Jeremy; yet I had learnt to look upon him as the one stanch
friend in my solitude, and as such I would right willingly take all
chances could I but render him further aid.

At the first opportunity, directly I felt strong enough, I crossed
the heath and stealthily approached his place of concealment. In
vain I gave the call of the red deer, for no welcome reply came from
the yawning pit; and when at length I descended by the rude ladder I
found the place dank and deserted. Captain Miles and his men had
gone--whither?--to bondage, or to freedom?

Neither did I from that day set eyes on Black Lewis; he, too, had
vanished, and thus all chance of communicating with the honest
Captain seemed to be hopelessly lost.

One afternoon towards the close of September I was sent by my uncle
into Lymington to procure some books that an acquaintance had
promised him.

It was a blustering day, cold for the time of year, and on the
journey I encountered several heavy showers that, for want of
shelter, soaked me to the skin. However, I accomplished my errand,
and laden with a heavy burden I trudged homewards, having also taken
the opportunity of obtaining from a cutler's the blade of the dagger
with which my father had been slain, I having left it some weeks
before for the purpose of having a hilt fitted to it.

At the outskirts of the village I almost ran into the arms of
Captain Jeremy, who was leading a heavy cob by the bridle.

For a few moments I could scarce believe my eyes; yet 'twas he,
bold, jovial, and beaming with kindliness as of yore, before that
fateful journey to the West.

"What cheer, ho!" he shouted. "I've sought you high and low."

"Oh, Captain Miles!" I exclaimed apprehensively, "is it safe for you
to be seen, sir?"

"Safe?" he roared. "Why, safe as a parson's barn. Thanks to my
patron Sir William Soams, of whom I have oft spoken beforetimes, and
in no small measure to a heavy drain upon my hidden hoard, I've
gained a pardon from His Majesty, and now I can flaunt my Lord Chief
Justice Jeffreys, or any of his satellites, come what may. I've got
a ship, lad! A. goodly vessel--as sweet a little craft as ever you'd
clap eyes on betwixt Yarmouth and Bristol. Thanks once again to Sir
William Soams, who threw himself into my plans, the _Golden Hope_
has been chartered to seek the _Madre_ treasure--and I'll warrant
Sir William will receive a good per centum on his outlay. She lies
at Poole, lad. We sailed her round from Deptford two days agone, I
and the ten lads you saw in the hole on Brockenhurst Heath, they
having made their way safely one by one to a rendezvous at Wapping;
and I've ridden over from Poole to tell you the news, though I am
but a sorry horseman."

"You rode well enough when you fled before the dragoons, sir."

"Aye," he replied, with a hearty laugh; "e'en though I rode the
farmer's mare to death. It beats me to think how I kept in the
saddle that day, and I've fallen thrice on my way hither; yet 'tis
strange what a man will do when he's put to it. But can you persuade
your uncle to let you ride over to Poole and see the _Golden Hope_
ere we sail? We weigh on Saturday morn, for 'tis, as you know, ill
luck to leave port on a Friday."

I shook my head sorrowfully.

"I fear he'll not think of it," I replied. "But, Captain Jeremy, how
I wish I were off with you!"

"'Tis not to be thought of, lad. Adventuring in the Indies is no fit
business for you. I've spun you yarns times without number, but
you've not heard of the dark side of a seaman's life. No, no,
Clifford; make the best of things and bide at home, and I'll do my
best for you and me."

"But, Captain----"

"No buts, lad; your duty lies at home. Now, say no more on 't,
though I would you could see the _Golden Hope_ ere she leaves Poole
Harbour. Well, well, the best of friends must say farewell, and so
'tis with us. Please Heaven another couple o' years will see us home
once more with the treasure; so good-bye, Clifford."

"Farewell, Captain Jeremy, and God be with you!"

Awkwardly the seaman scrambled into the saddle, urged his nag into a
trot, and set off along the Christchurch Road, not daring to look
round for fear of losing his seat. I watched him till his burly
figure disappeared from view, then slowly I made my way homewards.

"Why have you tarried on your errand, sirrah?" demanded my uncle, as
I placed the pile of heavy books on the table. "Hast entered into
worldly and unbecoming conversation with that seafaring man who,
with many strange oaths on his lips, hath troubled me with his
presence? To your room, sir! Supperless you shall go; but before
retiring, read, mark, and learn the beautiful discourse on
procrastination as set forth in this book of godly sermons.
To-morrow I'll speak further on this matter."

On the morrow he did more than speak, being a too zealous exponent
of King Solomon for my peace of mind; and, smarting under the
treatment I had endured, I determined to run away and join, by hook
or by crook, the good ship _Golden Hope_.




CHAPTER IX

Flight


I had no sooner made up my mind than I immediately began to take
steps to put my plan into execution, for the _Golden Hope_ was to
sail at early morn on the following day, and twenty good miles had
to be covered betwixt sunset and sunrise, were I to be in time.

My great regret was that I was unable to let Constance know of my
departure; but beyond that I cared little.

I managed to secrete the best part of a loaf, some cheese, and a
small flask of milk; and unobserved I secured a lengthy rope, which
I hid under my bed.

Longer and more tedious than ever seemed the evening prayers, but at
last my uncle bade me retire for the night. I lay abed till I heard
him fastening my door on the outside, as was his wont, and go to his
room. Then, when all was quiet, I hurriedly dressed, packed my food
in a wallet, and prepared to escape by the window. As 'twas a calm
moonlight night, the tree that served my father's murderer so timely
did not sway sufficiently for me to descend by it, and for that
reason I had provided myself with the rope.

This I passed round a leg of the massive bedstead, throwing the two
ends out of the casement on to the ground. Noiselessly I slipped
out, and grasping both parts of the rope, I descended hand over
hand. Then it was an easy matter to pull the rope down after me, so
as to remove all traces of my escape, which, I hoped, would prevent
my flight being discovered for some hours later than otherwise.

Having hidden the rope, I set out with a rapid stride and beating
heart on my long walk to Poole Town.

For the first few miles my route lay over well-known ground, but
soon I plunged into the thickest portion of the forest, where the
tall branches, meeting overhead, shut out the moonlight. 'Twas a
weird journey in the dead of night, with not a sound save my own
footsteps and the occasional hooting of an owl in the tree tops.

At length I left the confines of the New Forest, the road continuing
hilly yet fair-going; and having gotten well into the swing, I
footed it strongly.

Just as I reached the meeting of two fork roads I heard the distant
thud of a horse's hoofs, which came rapidly nearer and nearer.

Could my flight have been discovered already?

Plunging through a gap in the bushes I stood, my heart throbbing
violently, expecting every moment to see my uncle's manservant on my
track; but in a cloud of dust that rose slowly in the bright
moonlight a horseman galloped madly past, his hair flying out behind
him by reason of his speed through the still night air.

Hardly had he gone past when I again heard the thud of horses'
hoofs, and riding apparently in close pursuit came four men, with
set faces and loose rein. They, too, disappeared, but I could not
summon up courage to resume my way until the last sounds of the
pursuers had died away in the dim distance.

Then I came in sight of a town of considerable size, dominated by a
lofty square tower. This I guessed rightly to be Christchurch.

On reaching a long stone bridge I halted at one of the recesses to
rest awhile, making a meal of the food I had brought, for the walk
had made me ravenous.

'Twas a glorious view. Standing out clearly in the moonlight was the
long, regular outline of the priory church, the graceful tower of
which I had seen a long way down the road. The moonbeams danced on
the placid waters of an inland sea, while from farther still, beyond
a lofty, flat-topped hill, came the sound of the swell of the
English Channel roaring on the sandy shore.

Beneath the bridge flowed the river, swiftly and silently, though
oft the stillness was broken by the splash of a lordly salmon. "The
stream and I have both the same purpose," thought I. "Each would
gain the sea, though by different means."

My reverie was broken by the clatter of horsemen, and fearing to be
stopped and questioned, I ran down the approach to the bridge and,
vaulting over the low parapet, stood ankle deep in the dewy grass,
scarce daring to raise my eyes above the coping.

'Twas the same troop of horsemen I had seen a short while ago, and
in their midst, his legs bound beneath his horse's belly, rode the
man they had pursued, entreating and reviling his captors almost in
the same breath.

Once again I proceeded on my way, keeping close to the side of the
main street, where the moon threw deep shadows athwart the cobbles;
and once again I was brought to a standstill.

Hobbling down the street was a decrepit old man, muffled in a long
cloak. In his left hand he carried a lantern, while his right
grasped a halberd--though why thus armed I am at pains to suggest,
for so tottering were his footsteps that I could have knocked him
down with ease. Neither could he have had good sight, for he passed
me, as I stood flattened against a door, within three paces, and,
halting in the middle of the road, croaked:

"One o' the clock, and a fine morning, and all's well."

Three hours more and day would be breaking. If I were to be on Poole
Quay by sunrise no time must be lost, so directly the way was clear
I set off at a steady trot, never stopping till I had gained a
second bridge and had reached the foot of a steep hill, from the
summit of which I saw I had completely shaken off the dust of
Christchurch.

For the next five or six miles 'twas up and down, with occasional
glimpses of the sea away on my left; and just as the pale dawn began
to glimmer in the east, I saw from the brow of a lofty hill the
whole extent of Poole Harbour spread out like a map, the undulating
downs that I knew afterwards to be Purbeck Heights being barely
visible against the dark grey sky.

Half an hour later I was threading my way down the narrow High
Street, guided by the tall masts of the shipping in the harbour.

At length I reached the quay, and stood bewildered by the maze of
vessels of all sorts, sizes, and rigs. Although 'twas yet early,
there was much bustling about--fishermen returning from their
night's work, and men, heavy-eyed as the result of their previous
night's carouse, stumbling back to their ships; while already the
creaking of tackle and the hoarse shouts of seamen proclaimed that
more than one vessel was getting under way.

I had two immediate objects in view. I must avoid Captain Jeremy,
for I was very doubtful whether he would take me aboard the Golden
Hope. I must also find the ship, and manage to stow myself away till
she set sail.

Once more luck was in my favour, for as I made my way along the
slippery wharf I espied a large, wall-sided brig, with tall masts,
from which the sails hung loosely, awaiting but to be sheeted home.
Beneath her small, square stern ports were the words _Golden Hope_.

Even as I looked at her from a safe distance a heavy footstep caused
me to turn round, and to my surprise I saw no other than 'Enery.

He recognized me in an instant, and gripping me by the shoulder he
exclaimed:

"Avast there, Master Hammond, what brings you here?"

"I've run away from home. Don't betray me, Henry," I replied; "I
want to go with Captain Miles, and I'm afraid he'll not take me."

"Say 'Enery an' I'll answer to my name," said the seaman
reprovingly. "Why, if so be you wants to go to sea, why shouldn't
you? Why shouldn't you, I wants to know?"

"Perchance Captain Jeremy will not see eye to eye with me in that
matter; though, once we are fairly out at sea----"

"'Nough said, young maäster. Sink me if I don't do my best, for you
were as true as steel to us when we were shut up in that hole in
Brockenhurst Heath. Come on, and look sharp about it."

So saying, he led the way to a dirty, disreputable inn situated in a
narrow street leading off the quay. Here he spoke a few words to a
ferrety, blear-eyed man, handing tankards of spirits to the crowd of
seafaring men who thronged there in spite of the time of day.

"Up aloft," said the man, jerking his thumb in the direction of a
rough ladder that led to a room above.

[Illustration: I DESCENDED HAND OVER HAND]

Here 'Enery provided me with a pair of heavy sea boots which, when I
had slipped my legs into them, reached almost to my thighs. Next I
donned a long oilskin coat, cracked all over by the heat of the sun
and smelling most vilely; while on my head 'Enery clapped a
tarpaulin, the back of which rested betwixt my shoulder-blades.

Stepping back, he examined me critically; then, not satisfied with
his handiwork, he crossed over to the hearth, and covering his hand
with soot, he smothered my face till I was as dusky as a blackamoor.

"It's all plain sailing now," he remarked approvingly; and sallying
out into the street, we regained the quay.

"'Ere, clap hold o' that," exclaimed 'Enery, pointing to a heavy
sack, and, hoisting it on to my shoulders, he also seized a similar
article, and told me to follow him.

There was a constant stream of men engaged in the same task, some of
them seamen belonging to the ship, others longshoremen hired to
assist in the loading.

As I crossed the quay I saw Captain Jeremy, looking very smart in a
maroon-coloured coat, dark blue breeches, and long boots, while on
his head he sported a full-bottomed peruke, surmounted by a
three-cornered hat.

Bending low with my burden, I passed him in great dread lest he
should penetrate my disguise, but, to my great relief, he went by
unsuspectingly, and the next moment I staggered up the narrow,
creaking gangway and gained the deck of the _Golden Hope_.

Large as she appeared when viewed from the quay, the size of the
brig astonished me. She was about 200 tons burthen, and carried nine
seven-pounder pieces abroadside, with two small swivelled guns on
her poop.

Betwixt the masts a yawning hatchway and a stout longboat occupied
nearly all the space amidships; and down the hatch descended the
stream of laden men, jostling against those who, having got rid of
their burdens, were returning to the shore for more.

Passing out of the dazzling light, for the sun was now well up in
the heavens, the sudden change to the gloom of the hold made it hard
for me to distinguish my surroundings until my eyes grew accustomed
to the semi-darkness.

The floor of the hold was composed of rough planks, with a narrow
hatch to gain access to the ballast. On either side I could discern
the stout curved frames, while overhead, save where the hatch gaped
to the light of day, huge timbers crossed athwart ship barely five
feet from the floor. The whole place smelt strongly of tar; mingled
with a dozen different odours, all more or less obnoxious to my
nostrils.

Having relieved myself of the sack, I followed 'Enery towards the
fore end of the hold, where a low bulkhead, barely three feet in
height, separated the cargo and stores from the cable tier. There
two neatly coiled ropes, thicker than my leg above the knee,
occupied the greater part of the limited space, their ends vanishing
through two small apertures in the deck above.

This I saw by the feeble glimmer of a horn lantern.

"Here's your mess for awhile, till I gives you the word," said
'Enery. "I'll pass you down a pannikin of water and some hard tack
as soon as I can. No one will see you here, but take care of yon
cable, for if we've got to let go in a hurry you'll find yourself
capsized in a brace of shakes."

"Let go what?" I asked, bewildered by his warning.

"The anchor, Maäster Hammond. We never know when we've got to let
go, 'specially if she misses stays as we beat down the harbour."

Fearing to betray my ignorance, I refrained from asking him what
missing stays meant; and, promising to look me up as soon as his
duties would permit, the old seaman hastened away, and I was left in
solitude, though the men were still at work stowing the stores in
the after part of the hold.

At length the stream of hold trimmers gradually slackened and died
away; the hatches were replaced, and the hold was in darkness, save
for the dull yellow glimmer of the lantern that 'Enery had
thoughtfully left for my benefit.

It seemed several hours before the old seaman reappeared, bringing
the promised biscuit and water.

"Cap'n's come aboard," he announced. "We're just going to warp out,
for the wind's dead in our teeth. 'Twill be a long job, I'll allow,
afore we clear the bar. Never mind, Maäster Hammond; keep your heart
up, and watch the cable."

With this repeated warning he again left me, and soon afterwards I
heard the tramp of many feet on deck, mingled with hoarse orders
that were faintly borne to my ears.

The _Golden Hope_ was under way.




CHAPTER X

In the Hold


Mindful of 'Enery's warning, I gave the two massive hempen ropes a
wide berth, and, leaning against a stout rib, resumed my vigil, till
the heat of the confined space caused me to doff the oilskins and
sea boots.

Presently the brig gave a distinct heel, which gradually increased
till my position was turned into a standing one. Sail had been made,
and the vessel was lying over to the breeze, though, owing to being
still within a landlocked expanse of water, she scarce lifted as she
cut through the waves. I could distinctly hear the lapping of the
water against her sides as she moved with increasing pace in
response to the pressure on the additional canvas.

Presently, in apparent obedience to a hoarse order, the _Golden
Hope_ recovered her upright position, then gradually settled down in
the other direction, till, unable to keep my feet, I found myself
flung bodily against the opposite side, the lantern being overset
and extinguished at the same time.

Frantic with the fall, I struggled violently to regain my feet, my
head coming into contact with one of the coils of cable. For a
moment I imagined that the vessel had capsized, till, finding that
she rolled no farther, I came to the conclusion that she had turned
on her course.

Such, in truth, was the case. The brig had tacked, or, to use a
nautical expression, had "gone about", the direction of the wind and
the narrowness of the channel making the operation necessary. But I
knew nothing of this at the time.

Groping with my hand, I managed to find the lantern, but being
without flint and steel I was unable to relight it; so in the almost
pitch darkness I remained, my eyes fixed longingly on a faint white
light that filtered through a badly-fitting hatch cover.

Fearing another flight across the hold when the vessel again tacked,
I lay almost at full length on the rough floor, my shoeless feet
wedged firmly against a stout ringbolt in the fore side of the
bulkhead.

The effects of the excitement of the last twelve hours, combined
with the want of a good meal and the close, unwholesome atmosphere
of the hold, caused me to feel greatly distressed, and at length I
fell into a kind of stupor.

I had a rude awakening. A sniffing sensation round my fingers was
followed by a sharp bite. With a shriek I withdrew my hand, and
immediately a loathsome, active creature fled across my prostrate
body. It was a rat, and a huge one, judging by its weight.

Regardless of my instructions, I sprang to my feet, leaped over the
bulkhead, and crawled across the neatly stowed cargo, bumping my
crown more than once against the low deck beams. I was on the point
of hammering against the hatch, when the thought occurred to me that
it was yet too early to announce my presence.

My new position was also more bearable, for the light that came
through the ill-fitting hatch was sufficient for me to see within a
yard of where I crouched.

Meanwhile, the brig had tacked several times, so that by now the
manoeuvre did not cause me any misgivings; but what did trouble me
was the appearance of a regular swarm of rodents--not of the brown
variety such as one meets in the country, but long, skinny, black
rats, ferocious and daring in the extreme.

I looked about for a weapon, for although I carried about me the
knife I had had fashioned from the fatal dagger, it did not seem
sufficiently handy to tackle these loathsome creatures. To my great
joy I espied a stout crowbar, left, no doubt, by the men who had
stowed the cargo. With this I killed several of the brutes, though
not before I was bitten more than once, for as I struck one another
would fly straight at my throat, and only by warding it off with my
arm was I able to finish it off with the iron rod.

At length the rodents drew away and left me in comparative peace,
although I could hear them scuffling and squealing as the disturbed
bilge-water drove them from their accustomed haunts.

Compared with the rats, the cockroaches could be endured without
much effort. These verminous creatures swarmed everywhere--on the
deck beams, over the cargo, and even on my person--so that I could
scarce change my posture without feeling and hearing the sickening
crunch as they were crushed beneath my body.

All at once a violent commotion, accompanied by a medley of sounds,
came from the fore part of the hold. The hempen cable was rushing
through the hawse pipe.

Then the brig trembled slightly and ceased to list, and when the
clamour died away I heard a man shout:

"'Tis no use, Cap'n. I couldn't get another foot out of her."

"How long does the flood make?" asked a voice which I recognized as
Captain Jeremy's.

"First high water is about five hours from now," replied the first
speaker. "If the wind doesn't change we'll have to wait till then.
That'll give you an hour and a half to clear the bar afore the
second flood makes."

I heard Captain Miles rattle out a round oath, but further
conversation was inaudible through the sounds on deck. Nevertheless,
I had heard enough to fill my cup of misery to the brim: unless the
wind changed sufficiently to enable her to stem the tide, the
_Golden Hope_ would be compelled to remain at anchor for five
hours--five hours more of bodily and mental torture for me.

Yet I had to bear it, or own myself beaten, for I felt convinced
that so long as the brig remained within the limits of Poole
Harbour, Captain Jeremy would put me ashore in a longboat, or else
send me back with the pilot.

Another hour or so passed, yet there were no signs of 'Enery. The
heat began to be intense, for the sun was now as high in the heavens
as it could possibly be, and its rays, pouring down upon the decks,
caused the atmosphere of the hold to become stifling.

The wind, too, had dropped, for the ropes and sails no longer
rattled and flapped. But Captain Jeremy was not the kind of man to
allow his crew to remain idle, for I could hear water being poured
on the deck to clean away the dirt brought aboard from the quay.
This, to a certain extent, cooled the hold, and I felt all the
better for it.

"A breeze! A breeze from the nor'east!" I heard a voice exclaim, and
almost immediately after came the sounds of men rushing hither and
thither, and the creaking of blocks and tackle. Then, with the
measured tramp of feet as the capstan revolved, the cable descended
slowly into its tier, adding to the odours of the hold the pungent
smells of seaweed and mud.

The regular heel of the brig gave place to a confused pitching and
tossing, signs that I hailed with delight, in spite of a qualmish
sensation which the motion seemed to encourage.

The _Golden Hope_ had crossed the bar, and was curtsying to the
waves of the English Channel.

I waited a little longer, then began pounding on the hatch with the
butt of the iron rod.

At first no notice was taken of my efforts; then, without apparent
warning, the hatch was whipped off. A flash of dazzling sunshine
temporarily blinded me, and before I could realize my surroundings
rough hands seized me by the shoulders and dragged me on deck, while
a man shouted:

"Cap'n, here's a blessed stowaway!"




CHAPTER XI

My First Day at Sea


Captain Jeremy Miles was standing under the break of the poop, his
sunburnt face darkened to a brick-red colour with anger.

"What d'ye mean, you rascal, stowing yourself aboard my ship?"

I must have looked a pitiable object, for, in addition to my
soot-blackened face, my clothes were covered with dust and tar, the
former from the roads, the latter from the timbers of the hold,
though, until I came on deck, I was unaware of it.

My garments were also rent in several places, my hands were bleeding
from the result of the rats' bites, and my left eye was becoming
rapidly closed, by reason of the blow I had received when flung
across the cable tier.

Receiving no answer, the Captain repeated the question with
increased emphasis, stamping his foot violently on the deck.

I gave a rapid glance to windward. About a mile away I saw a line of
chalk cliffs, ending off in two remarkable pinnacles, and backed by
a lofty down, regular in outline and destitute of trees; while
astern lay the sand dunes that marked the entrance to Poole Harbour.
No other craft was in sight, so I concluded that, whatever else
might happen, I should not be put ashore.

"Captain Jeremy," I exclaimed, "don't you know who I am?"

"I don't know, and, what is more, I don't care."

"But you do, sir; I am Clifford Hammond."

Had a musket exploded under his very nose, the Captain would not
have jumped back more than he did. Then his eyes opened to their
fullest extent, and his jaw dropped till almost every tooth in his
head was revealed. Those of the crew who had formed the forlorn
group in the cave in Brockenhurst Heath gave a mingled shout and
cheer of welcome.

"Good heavens, lad!" exclaimed the Captain, when he had partly
recovered himself, "you here? Sink me! Come to my cabin."

He led the way to a low yet snug apartment in the stern of the
vessel, well lighted by the square ports I had before noticed, and
plainly but service ably furnished. A thick red carpet covered the
floor, and curtains of similar colour partially concealed a recess
that served as a sleeping bunk. A table, secured to the floor by two
light chains, occupied most of the available space, its polished top
being littered with charts and papers. Two muskets, a hanger, and a
brace of pistols were fixed in a rack, above which was a small
bookshelf. Against the side of the bulkhead stood a small portable
stove, but, the day being warm, it was unlighted. On either side of
the stove-pipe hung several nautical instruments, including a
quadrant, a telescope, and other gear; while below these, and in
fact in every angle of the cabin, were neatly contrived lockers.

This much I saw in a rapid glance, for Captain Jeremy seemed anxious
to speak his mind.

"You are a young rascal," said he, though in the same kindly manner
as of yore. "You've outwitted me, my lad, though I must confess I am
not altogether sorry. But now, look at the other side of the
business. Here you are, inexperienced in the hardships of a sailor's
life, about to engage in a hazardous enterprise that may last for
years. I am saddled with the responsibility of looking after you,
and this, in a measure, ties my hands."

"I'll try not to give you any trouble," I exclaimed.

"That I can quite understand; but trouble or no trouble, the
responsibility remains, d'ye see? However, least said, soonest
mended. Do your duty, my lad, for I'll warrant you'll not be kept
idle, and trust to One above to keep you when in danger and
adversity."

He opened the cabin door and called to a man, desiring him to tell
the cook to bring in some food.

"Meanwhile," he continued, "I'll look you out some suitable apparel,
and do you go for'ard, where you'll find a bucket of water. My
faith! You'll be all the better for a good wash."

I did as he ordered, and walking along the heaving deck between
groups of men, who stood respectfully aside for me to pass ('Enery
having explained that I was the son of one of the owners--not
knowing of my father's death), I gained the shelter of a canvas
screen underneath the fo'c'sle ladder.

Here I removed the thick deposit of soot and dirt, and having been
rinsed down by several buckets of water thrown over me by the seaman
who brought the promised garments, I proceeded to dress.

The clothes fitted me fairly well as far as my height went, for I
was almost full-grown in stature, but they were somewhat loose about
the body, yet comfortable withal; and on returning to Captain
Jeremy's cabin I found myself arrayed in serviceable breeches--baggy
at the knees, 'tis true--a grey flannel doublet, and a short coat
with slashed sleeves. Hat and stockings I was not as yet provided
with, neither did I require them; but on my feet I wore a pair of
pumps, or heelless shoes.

"Stow that away as fast as you can," said Captain Jeremy, pointing
to a tempting display of food placed at one end of the table. "And
don't forget to make the best of it, for the fresh stuff won't last
long, and you'll have to fall back on real seaman's fare--hard tack
and salt pork--before many days are over."

While I was ravenously devouring my food (for I was completely
famished), a seaman was busily engaged in fixing some planks round
the sides of one of the lockers I had previously noticed.

"He's knocking up a bunk for you," explained the kindly Captain. "I
think you'll be able to stretch out on it."

"But you don't mean me to sleep in your cabin, sir?" I exclaimed.
"I'm quite ready to sleep in a hammock, like the rest of the crew."

"That's part of my responsibility," he replied, shaking his finger
at me; "so there's an end on 't. Jeremy Miles has always prided
himself on being a man of his word, and sink me if I fail to carry
out this matter to the satisfaction of my principles."

Thus I found myself installed in the Captain's cabin of the brig
_Golden Hope_, which was more than I expected and more than I
deserved.

"Sixty men we carry," remarked the Captain. "None too many, but the
most we can reasonably afford. Most of them have been shipmates with
me in times past, and I'll warrant they'll be a tough nut for any
man to crack, be he Turk, Algerine, or buccaneer. It does my heart
good to see them do the cutlass drill, or man the ordnance. Our
master gunner, Master Silas Touchstone, has seen much service
'gainst the Dutch, and, forsooth, he's a tower of strength to the
brig. Would you could have seen them when we beat to quarters on our
way down channel."

"Were you attacked?" I asked eagerly.

"Nay, 'twas but practice, yet 'tis what we must accustom ourselves
to, for I doubt not that we shall smell powder in real earnest ere
we see Poole once again."

Just then 'Enery, who, I discovered, was the bos'n, knocked at the
cabin door and reported that the wind was freshening considerably,
whereat Captain Jeremy hastened on deck.

Having finished my meal, I bethought me that I ought to go on deck
also, and tying a scarf round my head in place of a hat, I ran up
the ladder and gained the poop.

The wind was howling through the rigging and driving the spray in
white showers across our weather bow, while ahead and as far to
larboard as the eye could reach regular combers, with crested tops,
showed how the surface of the sea had changed during the last hour.

On our starboard hand a wide expanse of milk-white foam betokened
the presence of the dreaded Race of Portland, the bluff headland
that gives it its name being plainly visible over our lee bow.

Beyond the heights of Portland the sun was setting in a pale, watery
sky, which was fast becoming obscured by rapidly drifting grey
patches of ragged clouds--a sure sign of bad weather.

Captain Jeremy neglected no precautions to ensure the safety of his
vessel. The fore and main topsails were close-reefed, the storm
stay-sails and jib set, and the guns, boats, and hatches properly
secured.

"You had best turn in," he shouted, his lusty voice barely audible
above the shrieking of the wind. "We'll be in the thick of it before
long."

Tired out with my exertions and lack of sleep during my night's
journey, I retired to the cabin, and, in spite of the incessant
rolling and pitching of the vessel, and the thunder of the waves as
they poured over her bows, I fell into a deep slumber.

How long I slept I had no idea till I was roughly wakened by 'Enery
shaking my shoulder and exclaiming: "'Tis three bells [9.30 a.m.],
Master Hammond. You'd best come on deck, for there's a strange sail
bearing down on us."

"What is it?" I asked. "Is it a pirate?"

"That I know not; 'tis, I fear, no law-abiding craft, and if we come
to close action every man jack'll have his work to do."

By this time I had sprung out of my bunk, and was making for the
deck.




CHAPTER XII

A Brush with Algerines


The wind, which had veered in the night and was now nearly dead
astern, had moderated in force considerably, and although 'twas
raining I could just distinguish a range of cliffs on our starboard
hand, ending in a lofty headland with a sheer fall into the sea.

But the cause of the commotion on board was the presence of a long,
narrow craft that was bowling along barely two miles off our
larboard quarter. She had a lofty fo'c'sle and poop, with a low
waist, her rig consisting of two raking masts, from the slanting
yards of which bellied closely reefed, loose-footed triangular
sails. She flew no colours, but from the foremast head a long
streamer stood out as rigid as a spar.

"They mean mischief," said Captain Jeremy to the master gunner, who,
having called the guns' crews to their stations, had come off to
confer with him.

"'Tis strange enow," replied Master Touchstone, "seeing that we are
at peace with the French, the Hollanders, and the Spaniards. What
think you she is?"

"An Algerine,[1] judging from the cut of her rig," replied Captain
Jeremy, "though I scarce thought to meet one of those rascally
rovers so close to the English shores. It seems as if Admiral Robert
Blake--who upheld the honour of England on the high seas, even
though he were a stout rebel--has taught them but half a lesson."

"Report says that last October two of their galleys captured the
_Sea Dog_, of Padstow, within sight of the Lizard," observed the
master gunner. "Seven stout Cornish fishermen are even now slaving
in their pirate dens, for aught I know to the contrary."

"They'll not carry the _Golden Hope_, Master Touchstone," replied
Captain Jeremy resolutely. "Your preparations are complete, I take
it."

"Aye, aye. Four guns abroadside are loaded to the muzzle with musket
bullets, four of the others with iron balls, and one with bar shot.
'Twill make a fine present for yon craft, if she be in a mind to
take it."

From where I stood at the head of the poop ladder I could command a
clear view of the brig's deck. The guns, with powder and ball ready
to hand, were as yet still run in, for with the heavy sea that was
raging 'twas unwise to trice up the ports until the actual time to
open fire, and we were thus also able to deceive the stranger, who
doubtless took us for a merchantman. Had our ports been open and our
line of gunning ordnance showing, the Algerine--for such she proved
to be--might have shirked a conflict; but Captain Jeremy's blood was
up, and he swore that he'd give the rascally sea-rovers a lesson
that they would not be likely to forget.

Our crew--for most of them had smelt powder before, having served in
the Dutch wars--maintained perfect discipline, keeping well out of
sight; yet they stood grasping tackles and handspikes, ready at the
signal to run out their guns and deliver a crashing broadside.

"They do not fear to press her," observed the master gunner, "though
they do not seek to gain the weather gauge. Think you that they'll
dare to board, sir?"

"With this sea running? Aye, they'll try to run under our lee and
throw a score of their ruffianly crew aboard us. And were we a
peaceful trading craft they'd do it, though the sea were twice as
high. Smart helmsmen most of those rascals are. I call to mind a
Spanish captain I met in Cadiz nine years agone, who told me how his
vessel, a xebec, was carried by an Algerine ship in this fashion,
and in a heavy Levanter, to boot. But now, Master Touchstone, to
your station!"

The Algerine was now but a few hundred yards astern, the foam flying
from her sharp bows as they cleft the water. She had put up her helm
and was bearing down on our lee quarter, doubtless to board in the
manner that Captain Jeremy had predicted.

Observing that those of the crew who were not at the guns had armed
themselves with musket or pistol, I took hold of a musket. Thanks to
my forest training, I was well accustomed to handle a gun, being
reckoned a tolerable shot, though on board the _Golden Hope_ the
motion of the ship put me at a disadvantage. Nevertheless, lying
down on the poop, where a score of musketeers had already taken up a
like position, I awaited the opening of the engagement, though I
must confess the prospect of being under fire did not seem so
welcome as it had in the security of my own home, where I used to
hear the tales of glorious sea fights.

The sight of Captain Jeremy helped to reassure me. He was standing a
short distance from the helmsman, his feet set widely apart and his
shoulders braced up, with the air of a man who knows how to keep
calm and resolute in the time of danger. Alternately glancing at the
tightly drawing sails and the hostile ship astern, he directed the
brig's course by a gentle motion of his hand, a signal that the
quick-witted quartermaster knew how to obey.

"Stand by the weather after braces," the Captain shouted, and in
response to the order the men rushed to man the ropes that served to
trim the sails.

"Are you ready, master gunner?"

"Aye, aye, sir."

The Algerine was now barely one hundred yards astern, having
achieved her object of getting to lee'ard of us. I could see her
lofty fo'c'sle crowded with men--brown, black, aye, and even white
faces, for renegades were to be found in the service of the
infidels. Some of the crew wore turbans and flowing robes, others a
kind-of hooded garment that reached to the knees; but the majority
were naked from the waist upwards. With scimitar, spear, pistol, and
musket they crowded ready for a spring upon our decks, while they
rent the air with shouts of defiance and rage, which were borne to
our ears by the wind.

"Ready all! Ease the helm down!"

The _Golden Hope_ gave a swift, and graceful turn, so that she
exposed the whole of her larboard broadside to her enemy. Then, as
the Algerine likewise put her helm down to avoid a collision that
would doubtless have proved fatal to both craft, nine of our
vessel's guns were run out, and a crashing volley was poured into
our entrapped foe.

When the smoke had cleared away I saw a sight that I shall never
forget. The fo'c'sle, swept by a hail of bullets, was covered by a
writhing mass of dead and wounded men; her bows were beaten in by
the solid shot; while her foremast, cut off about six feet from the
deck, had fallen to lee'ard, bringing with it the heavy lateen yard
and sail, and crushing in its descent several of the crew who were
in the waist.

Owing to the high seas that were running, the Algerine had been
unable to use her oars; but the luckless slaves, chained to their
benches, did not escape the hail of shot, much as we should have
wished otherwise.

Amidst the clamour of shrieks, groans, and maledictions, for the
havoc our broadside had caused was immense, two white men sprang
over the side of the Algerine and began to swim in our direction.

"There are some slaves escaping," shouted one of our seamen from the
fo'c'sle.

"Where away?" asked Captain Jeremy.

"Dead astern, sir."

"Then 'bout ship. I'll do my best to pick them up. Yon rascals will
give us no more trouble."

'Twas no easy task, for by the time the _Golden Hope's_ bow was
pointed towards the spot where two heads could be discerned as they
rose upon the crest of a wave, we were nearly a quarter of a mile
away, while the disabled Algerine, drifting bodily with the wind and
falling broadside on to the breakers, was doomed to a terrible fate
on the rock-bound coast.

To get the two poor fugitives on board seemed impossible, for no
boat could live in such a sea. Even our guns' crews were at times
working up to the knees in water as they strove to secure their
guns, now that they were no longer required. But by means of a line
attached to a barrico and veered out to lee'ard, one of the men was
hauled up over the brig's side. The second slave was not so
fortunate. He must have been wounded, for he was seen to be swimming
very feebly; and ere the line came within his grasp he sank, in
spite of a gallant effort on the part of his companion to save him.

Meanwhile the _Golden Hope_ was put on her former course, or nearly
so, for in the pursuit and action--though the latter lasted but a
minute at the outside--we had drifted to within a dangerous distance
of the shore, where the surf was licking the face of the frowning
cliff towards which the Algerine was rapidly being carried.

We could clearly discern the last of the villainous but unfortunate
vessel. With her foremast shot away she was helpless, in spite of
frantic efforts to row her seaward. As fast as the heavy sweeps were
shipped they were shattered by the irresistible force of the waves,
till, midst a turmoil of foam, the doomed ship struck the cliff.

"The Deadman[2] has claimed another toll," shouted Captain Jeremy in
my ear. "Yon's one of the worst parts of the Cornish coast, and
should a single man of her crew reach the land, he'll meet with
short shrift at the hands of the wreckers and smugglers."

I had escaped my first experience of being under fire, somewhat to
my regret, now that the affair was over, for I had a presentiment
that 'twas but putting off the evil day. Yet I had gained some
knowledge of how Englishmen behave in times of danger, and that
knowledge was of no mean value.

Four hours later the _Golden Hope_ rounded the Lizard, and in a now
rapidly subsiding sea entered the vast expanse of the Atlantic
Ocean.

Well before sunset I saw the lofty cliffs disappear beneath the
horizon, and that was my last sight of Old England for many a long
day.


[1] During the seventeenth and even well into the eighteenth century
occasional raids by Algerine corsairs upon the shipping in the
Channel were reported. In the _Naval Chronicle_ for 1807 a letter
from one naval officer to another is given, under date of 1743. He
describes the wreck of a disabled Algerine off Land's End, pouring
out a whole torrent of abusive sarcasm upon the authorities of
Falmouth for sending "pork to feed the Mussulmans, being contrary to
their religion".

[2] The Dodman, a precipitous headland on the South Cornish coast,
between Fowey and Falmouth, is even now familiarly named "The
Deadman" by seamen. The most notable wrecks there in recent years
were those of the _Thresher_ and the _Lynx_ in 1897.




CHAPTER XIII

Of the Mysterious Ship in the Midst of the Ocean


Next morning when I came on deck I saw the man we had rescued from
the Algerine vessel. He was lying on a rough couch under the lee of
a cannonade, being too weak to stand. He had received a pistol shot
in the left arm, so that his escape was all the more to be wondered
at, although he asserted that while swimming for his life he knew
nothing of the matter.

He was a man of gigantic stature, broad in frame, and with muscles
that stood out beneath his tanned skin like knots on the trunk of a
forest oak. All this I saw in spite of his distressed condition, and
should he recover, which seemed likely enough, he promised to make a
welcome addition to our crew.

His name was Joe Clemens, and he hailed from East Looe, a small
fishing village in Cornwall somewhere betwixt Plymouth and Fowey, so
that when we picked him up he was almost within sight of his native
place. He had been the mate of the _Surprise_, armed trader, which
had been cast ashore on the Barbary coast, all her crew being
carried into captivity.

He was the only Englishman on board the Algerine galley; and had
laboured at the oar for nearly three years, sleeping and working at
the rowers' bench, to which he was shackled by a chain passed round
his middle.

Our broadside severed the chain, and seizing the opportunity he
sprang overboard, followed by a fellow-slave, a Sardinian. As he
leapt over an Algerine discharged a pistol at him, wounding him in
the arm; but such was his strength and determination that, although
wearing part of the heavy chain and bleeding profusely, he managed
to swim strongly till picked up. His companion had sunk, as I have
already related.

For the next few days nothing happened beyond the ordinary routine
on board; but on the morning of the fifth day at sea I happened to
notice a man who must have previously kept out of my way. His face
was partially hidden by a short, stubbly beard, in spite of which I
felt certain 'twas the same man that had vied with my father in
bidding for Captain Jeremy's picture.

Concealing my agitation, I sought the Captain and communicated my
suspicions.

"Wrong again, lad," he replied. "'Tis Ned Slater, an old shipmate of
mine who has fallen on evil times. Out of charity I shipped him
aboard the _Golden Hope_."

"The same old shipmate who bought a dagger in Lisbon?"

"Aye, Master Clifford----"

"But, sir, you described him as being as thin as a handspike."

"So I did, lad; but he has filled out since then. 'Twas a score of
years ago at least. But rest easy in your mind concerning him, for
he has been to the Indies for the last four years, and only landed
in Chatham a month ago, the sole survivor of the barque
_Enterprise_. I know that, for I saw his papers."

With that there was no more to be said; yet, though I might be
mistaken, I resolved to keep a close watch on the movements of
Master Ned Slater.

Favourable winds bore the _Golden Hope_ to the Azores, where I had
my first impression of foreign parts. Then, after a three days'
stay, we shaped a course for the Bermudas; but, owing to constant
head winds, Captain Jeremy decided to run south, so as to pick up
the north-east Trades.

For several days we sailed over a vast expanse of ocean, with never
a sail to break the regular skyline. The days, too, were rapidly
becoming hotter, while the hours of daylight appreciably diminished,
though the nights were warm and balmy, so that keeping a watch on
deck was robbed of all discomfort.

At length one morning the sun rose red and fiery, betokening a
change in the weather; and barely was it clear of the horizon when
the cry was heard, "Sail, ho!"

"Whither away?" asked Captain Jeremy, as he ascended the poop, glass
in hand.

"A point off our starboard bow, sir," replied the seaman who had
picked up this craft.

With the naked eye we could distinguish the topsails and t'gallants
of a brig, the hull being still below the horizon. Captain Jeremy
clapped the glass to his eye and examined her intently.

"What's amiss with her?" he exclaimed. "She's hove-to."

"Perhaps she has sighted us, and wishes to communicate," suggested
Touchstone.

"Or else she's a buccaneer," added 'Enery, as he swung himself into
the main shrouds in order to get a better view from the topmast
head.

"We are out of the regular cruising ground of those gentlemen,"
remarked Captain Jeremy. "But 'tis no saying what she may prove to
be. Master Touchstone, will you see that the arms are served out?"

Two hours later, for the wind was still light, we were within a mile
of the strange brig. She was a vessel very similar to the _Golden
Hope_ in design, but with what a difference in appearance!

She was still hove-to, moving very slowly through the water. Her
yards were badly squared, while her running gear seemed to be in a
state of neglect, several of the sheets and braces trailing over the
side. She carried four guns abroadside, and these were run out in
apparent preparation to ward off an attack; while her decks were
crowded with men.

"What do they think to do?" asked the master gunner. "'Tis certain
they have no stomach for a fight, or else they would keep way on
her."

"If they do not pay heed to their t'gallants they are lost men,"
said Captain Miles. "See, already the sky is overcast to windward.
Yet it may be but a trick, so stand to your guns, men."

In obedience to a further order, the red cross of St. George was
shown from our foremast truck, for the course our vessel was taking
prevented the ensign at the peak being seen by the stranger.

No ensign was hoisted in reply, and in perfect silence the others
awaited our approach.

"What ship is that?" hailed Captain Jeremy through his speaking
trumpet. There was still no answer, although the _Golden Hope_ was
passing within fifty yards of the stranger's bows. The hail was
repeated, and to our surprise a lusty voice shouted:

"Can yew give we a hand wi' this boat ov ourn, zurr?"

"If that isn't a Zummerset or Devon yokel, sink me for a
landlubber!" remarked Captain Jeremy; and almost at the same moment
'Enery, who had descended to the main top, shouted, "Bless me,
Cap'n, if it ain't Garge Oddicombe."

"Aye, aye, we'll send a boat," replied Captain Jeremy to the other's
request; and in a very short space of time twenty men, with 'Enery
in charge, were making-towards the forlorn brig, I having obtained
permission to accompany them.

"Look sharp!" shouted our Captain as the boat shoved off. "Make all
snug alow and aloft, and keep us in company."

A strange sight met our eyes as we gained the deck of the brig,
which, by the name painted on her stern, we now knew to be the
_Neptune_ of Topsham.

The confusion on deck was in accordance with the disorder aloft.
Ropes, gun tackles, broken casks and planks, and torn canvas were
lying about in the utmost disorder; while some hundred men,
grotesquely dressed in motley costumes, gazed at us with mingled
expressions of relief, curiosity, and fear. Many still wore the
smocks of their native Somerset and Devon, but gone was the healthy
hue of a country life. Haggard faces, unkempt hair, and beards
showed that these sons of the soil had had a trying time on
shipboard.

Without waiting to question this mixed crew, some of whom recognized
our men as comrades on the fatal field of Sedgemoor, 'Enery took
steps to ensure the safety of the brig, for the wind was piping up
in long-drawn moans, the forerunners of the expected gale; and by
the time everything was snugged down the sea was too high to permit
the boat to return to the _Golden Hope_ for further orders.

Under easy canvas both brigs scudded before the gale, and, thanks to
'Enery's management, and the fact that the _Neptune_ was a seaworthy
craft, we had no fears as to her ability to make good weather of it.

All night we kept the _Golden Hope's_ poop lanterns in view, both
vessels being of about the same turn of speed; nor was it possible
to return to our own craft until late in the afternoon of the
following day.

Nevertheless, long before that time we were acquainted with the
facts that led up to our meeting with the _Neptune_, and a ghastly
story it was.

The _Neptune_, commanded by Captain Jonas Wright, had left the port
of Topsham on the tenth of September, with a living cargo consisting
of one hundred and twenty poor peasants whom the inhuman Judge
Jeffreys had condemned at Exeter Assizes to a lifelong slavery in
Jamaica.

This Captain Jonas Wright was a harsh, tyrannical man, who, far from
alleviating the miseries of his prisoners, had added to their hard
lot, keeping them on low rations of nauseating food, and only
allowing them to come on deck for fresh air at very long intervals,
while he took a savage delight in bestowing the dreaded "cat"
whenever an opportunity occurred. Frequently, through sheer love of
cruelty, he would invent some pretext for whipping the manacled
prisoners, shouting in drunken glee at their appeals for mercy.

At length George Oddicombe, a man of enormous strength, but withal
somewhat dull of understanding, who had fought stubbornly at Sedge
moor till ridden down by the Royals, contrived to free himself from
his gyves and leg irons, and by working heroically for six hours
also managed to release most of his luckless comrades, who in turn
devoted their energies to knocking off the fetters of the remaining
rebels.

That same night, the captain being in drink, as were most of the
seamen, a horde of fierce and resolute peasants poured through the
hatchway and overpowered the crew. What happened to their erstwhile
captors we did not ask, there being little need to imagine their
fate.

Although freed from their oppressors, the ignorant yokels found
themselves helpless, for the brig soon got in irons[1]. Unable to
manoeuvre her, they had slowly drifted in a vessel which, but for
our aid, would ere now be lying on the bed of the Atlantic.

Directly the wind moderated sufficiently, 'Enery and I returned to
the _Golden Hope_, leaving seven of our men still on board the
_Neptune_.

Captain Jeremy listened intently to the bos'n's report, his brow
frequently puckering as if with the perplexity of the situation; but
when at length 'Enery finished his story, the Captain brought his
hand down on the cabin table with a tremendous crash.

"By Jove!" he exclaimed, "I'll risk it. Bring Oddicombe on board."


[1] A vessel is said to be "in irons" when she is head to wind, and
will not tall off on either tack.




CHAPTER XIV

"Captain 'Enery"


While the boat was away on its errand Captain Jeremy turned to me.

"You see, Master Clifford, that I am in a very awkward position. As
master of this vessel I look upon mutiny and similar uprisings
against authority as an offence of the blackest dye. 'Tis certain
that Master Oddicombe and his following have dealt hardly with the
captain of the _Neptune_ and his crew, and for that they deserve to
be delivered up to justice at the first English settlement we touch.
On the other hand, they were fighting for their liberty 'gainst a
tyrant, while, to go farther, they fought side by side with us under
Monmouth's banner. But for the workings of Providence, I and a score
of my men now on board this vessel would have been similarly dealt
with. Had we been in their place, how should we have acted, had the
means of regaining our freedom been opened to us?"

"Same as they, Cap'n," exclaimed 'Enery, who, with Touchstone and
myself, formed a little council in the cabin.

"I did but sound your inclinations," continued Captain Jeremy. "Sink
me! I cannot blame them. But now, by the laws of the sea, the
_Neptune_ is in our keeping till we bring her into a port, when the
Admiralty courts shall decide our share of the salvage. But if we do
that, what is to become of the yokels that are on board? Nay, that
will not serve."

"We could do with another ship and a sprinkling of fighting men,"
observed the master gunner tentatively.

"You have spoken mine own mind," rejoined Captain Jeremy. "If we can
but make yon peasants see that therein lies the best chance of
safety, I'll tranship half of them, and send thirty of our men under
you, bos'n, to work the leavening of the rest. I know these men.
They are full of fight, and only need a stiffening of good seamen to
turn them into a passable crew."

"Then you expect we shall have opposition, sir?" I asked. "From
whom?"

"From the buccaneers, unless I be greatly mistaken. With the _Golden
Hope_ alone 'twould be necessary to avoid an engagement should these
rogues think fit to molest us, for they swarm all over the Caribbean
Sea; but with a consort like the _Neptune_ we can hold our own. Is
she a seaworthy craft?"

"As sweet a craft as I could wish for--saving our own," replied
'Enery.

"And well found?"

"Both in stores and munitions of war, though I have not made a full
search. Eight twelvepounders and an eighteen on her fo'c'sle, and a
goodly store of muskets, cutlasses, and pikes, to say naught of a
stock of bilboes."

"And water?"

"Enough and to spare."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Captain Jeremy. "But here is the boat
alongside. We'll hear what Master Oddicombe hath to say to our
proposals."

Master Oddicombe needed but little persuasion to fall in with
Captain Jeremy's suggestions. He realized only too well that his
bold step in taking possession of the _Neptune_ brought the greater
chance of difficulties and dangers; and that, had they been
overhauled by a King's ship, every man would assuredly have graced a
halter.

Captain Jeremy next proceeded to explain the mission of the _Golden
Hope_, and our expectation of securing a vast treasure.

"Although I can offer you no share in the matter," he continued, "I
shall require you and your companions to pledge yourselves to serve
us faithfully for the space of not more than two years. At the end
of that time, or before, should we attain the object of our search,
I'll warrant your safe discharge at some settlement, where you will
be free men. More than that, should we be able, by the united work
of both vessels, to capture any buccaneering craft who think to
molest us, their cargoes will be equally divided betwixt all hands.
So if you and your men are willing to serve us faithfully, and
engage in an enterprise of adventure and profit, now is the chance
of that and your freedom."

Nothing loath, Master Oddicombe gave the required promise on behalf
of his men, and the compact having been sealed over a bottle of
Madeira, we all repaired on deck, where Captain Jeremy gave orders
for our crew to assemble.

"My lads," said he, "You know I'm a bluff sailor and not given to
making speeches, so I come straight to the point. Yon brig is now
our consort. Together we'll make a match for any buccaneer that
dares to assail us. You need not fear that your shares in the
expedition will be lessened by our increased numbers--if anything,
you stand to gain. I hope you'll welcome your new messmates. Some of
you will greet them as old companions on the battlefield. That's all
I'm going to say. Now, thirty men are wanted to serve aboard the
_Neptune_ under Captain 'Enery." Here our former bos'n almost lost
his balance, at the shock of hearing his new title. "Seven of our
men are already aboard her," continued Captain Jeremy, with a sweep
of his arm in the direction of the _Neptune_, which, like the
_Golden Hope_, had been hove-to during the last hour or so. "Those
willing to serve under Captain 'Enery will muster on the larboard
side."

To my surprise, not a man crossed over to the larboard, but with one
accord all stepped briskly and resolutely to the starboard side.

"What's this I see?" shouted Captain Jeremy.

"Do you want to cruise single-handed? Are you afraid that, against
my word, your shares will go down? Do I scent mutiny aboard the
_Golden Hope_? Bestir yourselves, my hearties!"

"'Tain't neither, Cap'n," replied one of the men, Tom Cherry by
name. He had been one of the Captain's comrades in the cave, and was
a stanch, honest fellow. "We'll all go if you gives the word, but we
don't want you to think as 'ow we wants to leave you."

"You won't be leaving me; it's the _Golden Hope_ you're leaving, to
join a consort under my orders. I thank you all for your expression
of loyalty, but as some of you must ship aboard the _Neptune_ we'll
leave it to chance. Master Touchstone, do you draw the men into two
ranks."

Thereupon the crew took up their position, fifty-one all told, for
Captain 'Enery and the master gunner were, with Captain Miles and me
on the poop.

"Down you go, Master Clifford, and pick out a man at random," said
our Captain; and, descending the poop ladder, I walked between two
rows of as fine a set of men as ever served afloat.

"Fall out, you," ordered Captain Jeremy, as I touched a smart
lower-yard man on the shoulder.

"Now, count out every seventh man."

"There you are, Captain 'Enery," he continued, when the counting out
was completed; "a proper crew for you, and no favouritism. I trust
they'll do you credit. Now, lads, there's no time to be lost, so
dismiss and pack up your traps."

With this there was a wild skelter, as the men dived into the
forepeak to gather together their personal property; and a quarter
of an hour later the backbone of the _Neptune's_ crew rowed off to
our consort.

An hour or more elapsed ere the sixty peasants were brought on board
the _Golden Hope_, for Captain 'Enery, with considerable tact, had
allowed them to settle amongst themselves who should stay and who
were to go. Thus there was no separation of relations or
friends--for, poor fellows, they had had enough of that when they
left England--and each band of yokels had the satisfaction of
finding themselves made up of practically the manhood of their
respective villages.

Our westward course was now resumed, the two vessels keeping their
stations with commendable precision, the _Golden Hope_ leading at
about a cable's length from the _Neptune's_ larboard bow.

From early morn to late afternoon, day after day, the new arrivals
were trained in the use of arms, manning the guns under Master
Touchstone's supervision, and going through the musketry exercises
and the cuts and guards of the cutlass drill. It was not long before
their smocks and other homely garments had given place to clothes of
a nautical cut, while each day added to their transformation into
stout-hearted British seamen.

Nor were the conditions under which the crew of the _Neptune_ lived
less strenuous. Although we were unable to go aboard her, for the
Trades blew steadily during this time, and both vessels kept up a
good eight knots, I could see by the aid of a glass that her men
were hard at work with their ordnance and small arms; while it
seemed that Captain 'Enery rarely quitted his quarter-deck. Whenever
I chanced to look that way I could distinguish his tall, gaunt,
bearded figure slowly pacing his domain; and I realized that, should
we ever find ourselves in a tight fix, we should have reason to be
thankful for the aid of Captain 'Enery.




CHAPTER XV

We Arrive at Treasure Island


"Land ahead!"

Such was the welcome cry that greeted my ears as I awoke on the
morning of our thirty-eighth day afloat.

Hastily throwing on my clothes, I rushed on deck to view the land of
promise. We were approaching the Lesser Antilles, and ahead the
lofty, wooded slopes of an extensive island were slowly coming into
sight, while north and south the peaks of other islands showed their
heads above the horizon, for the weather was particularly clear, the
hour being just after sunrise.

Captain Jeremy was already up and about, and was holding the chart
in his hand, for we were on the point of passing over shoal water,
though no rocks reared their heads above the sea.

The leadsman was in the chains, his voice being heard with
monotonous regularity--"By the mark five"[1]; and the anchor was
already uncatted and hung ready to let go at the first sign of
danger.

Astern the _Neptune_ was wallowing slowly in our wake, under reduced
canvas.

Gradually the island loomed nearer and nearer, till we could
distinguish a saddle-shaped hill, covered with dense vegetation,
descending steeply on its northern face, while its southern portion
seemed to end in a long, flat plain. At first sight there appeared
no break in the encircling ridge of white sand 'gainst which the
breakers flung themselves in cascades of milk-white foam, the noise
of which was borne to our ears like the distant roll of drums.

"By the deep four," shouted the leadsman.

"Carry on," said Captain Jeremy calmly, though by his manner I knew
'twould be hazardous to question him. "Another man in the chains!"

"A quarter less four." The water was shoaling rapidly.

Still our Captain gave no sign to alter the brig's course, although
an ominous pale green patch ahead and several others of a dark brown
hue on either side of us betokened the presence of dangerous
sandbanks and rocks. His eyes were intently fixed on a rocky
pinnacle which was slowly coming into line with a distant island.

"Hard a larboard!"

Round swept the _Golden Hope_, heeling over to the beam wind as it
caught her retrimmed sails. We were now shaping a course parallel to
the eastern side of the island, while the _Neptune_, turning in our
wake, had also succeeded in negotiating the unseen channel.

"Keep her as she goes, quartermaster," ordered Captain Jeremy, who
was now devoting his attention to some secret bearings on the shore.

"By the mark thirteen," sang out the leadsman, while almost directly
afterwards his companion gave the cry, "And a half six."

"Starboard your helm."

Once more the _Golden Hope_ swung round till she lay on her former
course and was pointing straight for the island. Right ahead I could
now see a deep bay, or rather gulf, protected by a ridge of jagged
rocks running obliquely seaward from either horn of the land. Even
here the rollers ran high, but they lacked the broken crest that
elsewhere marked an almost continuous submerged reef.

Away aloft sprang the men to reduce still further our spread of
canvas. With a succession of heavy lurches the _Golden Hope_ crossed
the bar and entered the land-locked harbour.

"Let go," shouted Captain Jeremy, laying down his glass with a sigh
of relief and wiping his heated brow.

With a sullen splash the anchor plunged beneath the waves, the stout
hempen cable flew through the hawse-pipe, and the _Golden Hope_
brought up head to wind in the sheltered anchorage of Treasure
Island.

The _Neptune_, smartly handled, also dropped anchor half a cable's
length nearer inshore, and steps were immediately taken to moor both
vessels, a massive chain bridle and swivel being bent on to the
cables to prevent undue chafing, and also to facilitate matters
should we be compelled to slip in a hurry.

The waters of this little harbour were so clear that the bed of the
sea could be distinctly seen at a depth of five fathoms. The _Golden
Hope_ was lying immediately over a white sandy 'patch, though both
her anchors were embedded in blue mud, which formed an excellent
holding-ground.

It being too late in the day to land, for mooring and "snugging
down" had taken up a considerable time, all hands were allowed to
stand easy. Many of the men took advantage of this permission to
bathe, and a strange sight it was to see a constant stream of seamen
running along our fore-yard and diving thence into the sea.

For my part, I could not bring myself to attempt a plunge from that
dizzy height, but contented myself with diving off the catheads; yet
before many days had passed I conquered my fears and essayed the
leap, for which I had reason to be thankful ere the cruise of the
_Golden Hope_ was over.

A sharp look-out was kept in case the swimmers were attacked by
sharks, but we were not molested by these monsters. On our voyage we
had frequently come across them, and they would follow the ship for
days; but on our crossing the bar they deserted us. Possibly the
roar of the surf had frightened them, and we were not sorry to lose
their unwelcome attentions.

Next day the boats were ordered away to sound the bay and the bar
without. The weather was exceedingly hot, and even when sheltered
beneath canvas awnings the heat was oppressive. Yet ere nightfall
the soundings were taken, with sufficient exactness to assure
ourselves that no hidden danger lay within the entrance to our
harbour, while the wreck of the Spanish caravel was discovered lying
close to the northernmost arm of the reef in eleven fathoms of
water.

I could trace her rounded sides and lofty poop and fo'c'sle, even
though the timbers were covered with weeds. She was lying almost on
an even keel, though with a slight list to starboard, her bows
pointing obliquely to the shore. Had she been a few hundred yards to
the south'ard she must assuredly have made the harbour in safety,
and then there would have been no need for our presence off the
island.

"It was commonly supposed," said Captain Jeremy to me, "that the
whole of the crew of the caravel perished in the wreck, but I can
prove that such was not the case. When she struck she remained above
water some time--possibly for weeks--and the survivors removed the
treasure to a safe hiding-place in the hills. How they fared you
shall see. With the next heavy gale the _Madre_ slipped off the
rocks and settled in deep water, where we now see her. This accounts
for the treasure not being found by anyone but myself. Now we'll
return to the _Golden Hope_, for 'tis nearly sunset."

That night extra watches were set on both ships, for we knew not
whether the island was inhabited or otherwise, while at any time
some buccaneering craft might attempt to surprise us as we lay at
anchor. But nothing untoward occurred to, disturb our slumbers,
although the change from the constant heave of the ocean to the
motionless calm within this sheltered harbour caused me to lie awake
on my back for several hours.

A thousand thoughts passed through my brain. Here we were off
Treasure Island, but would our quest be successful? What was my
uncle doing? Had he guessed the reason of my flight? or did he think
that I had come to some untimely ending? If the latter, what would
he do with my home in far-off Brockenhurst? And Constance--how was
she faring? Then I recalled the incidents that led to my presence on
board the _Golden Hope_. I pictured again the struggle with the two
dragoons on the Lyndhurst Road, the fatal night when my father was
foully slain, the underground refuge, my midnight flight and
subsequent discomforts in the hold. Once more I saw the Algerine
crumple up under our broadside, and pictured the boarding of the
_Neptune_. These and a chain of other incidents I recalled, till
just before dawn I fell asleep.

Yet during the short interval while I slept occurred the first of a
series of incidents that led to the direst misfortunes which befel
our enterprise.


[1] This refers to the sounding in fathoms as shown by the leadline.
This line is "marked" at 2, 3, 5, 7, 10, 13, 15, 17, and 20 fathoms
by distinctive strips of calico, bunting, leather, &c. The
intervening depths are not "marked", and are called "deeps".




CHAPTER XVI

A Hasty Recall


At sunrise all hands were piped on deck, for much had to be done ere
the rays of the tropical sun became too strong for us to work. The
boats were hoisted out and the hatches removed, and a portion of the
stores was placed on deck ready to be transported on shore.

Captain Jeremy had decided, to avoid difficulty and the loss of time
caused by going ashore and returning by the boats every day, to land
most of the stores and gear required for our expedition--that is,
should the island prove to be uninhabited--and to erect a stockaded
storehouse and quarters.

This arrangement would also benefit the health of the crews of both
vessels, for in their somewhat overcrowded state the greatest care
had to be exercised to ward off an epidemic of scurvy.

Accordingly, fifty men, armed to the teeth, were ordered away in the
boats under the command of the master gunner, for Captain Jeremy had
decided not to explore the interior of the island, where the
treasure was supposed to be hidden, until a secure base of
operations was in existence.

Before the landing party went over the ship's side Captain Jeremy
called me into his cabin.

"Master Clifford," said he, "dost call to mind when you last saw the
chart of the island? I remember having it in my hand as we worked
our way into the harbour, but, strange to admit, I have no further
recollection of it."

"'Twas left in yonder rack," I replied, pointing to where I had last
seen the chart. "I remember that perfectly."

"Then it hath been filched," he said, "filched while we slept. Well,
well, may it do the thief all the good he deserves! He, or the
thieves, will not be able to find the treasure by its aid, though
'tis important should anyone but myself attempt to steer the _Golden
Hope_ between the shoals. I must, therefore, explain the leading
marks to Captain 'Enery and our quartermaster, for some mishap might
occur to render me helpless. Do not say a word concerning this
matter to anyone, Master Clifford. 'Tis best to keep such
disquieting knowledge to ourselves; but, nevertheless, I'll have my
weather eye open, and at the first sign of treachery or mutiny I'll
give the culprits cause to remember Captain Jeremy Miles. Now you
can go ashore, but be sure to return on board ere nightfall. You had
better not take up your quarters ashore till things are ordered to
ensure our safety."

I embarked on board one of the long-boats, which were laden almost
to the water's edge with various stores, including powder and shot,
ladders, spades and mattocks, carpenters' tools, nails and spikes,
barrels of biscuits and flour, and canvas for making tents.

In spite of their overladen condition, the boats reached the shore
in safety, for the water was as calm as a mill pond. We landed on a
flat, sandy beach, close to the mouth of a little stream that was to
supply us with fresh water. The plain that extended 'twixt the sea
and the hammock= shaped hill was far more extensive than one would
have supposed, when viewing it from the offing. It was nearly three
miles in width, and was covered by a dense and luxurious vegetation.

Between the little stream and the rocky headland that formed the
northernmost horn or arm protecting the harbour the ground was
comparatively barren, so that a clear view could be obtained for
several hundred yards.

Moreover, the rocks on the seaward side descended abruptly to the
water's edge, so that they formed a natural defence in that
direction, since no boats could land thereabouts. Midway betwixt the
stream and the headland the master gunner fixed the site for the
stockade.

A trial hole to the depth of ten feet revealed the presence of a
copious supply of water, sweet and wholesome to the taste when once
the mud had settled. This was especially fortunate, as we were not
compelled to rely upon the stream, which was a quarter of a mile or
more from our proposed fortress.

Having transported all the stores they had brought ashore to the
middle of a square that the master gunner had traced upon the
ground, the landing party went up into the woods to fell and trim
some trees for the purpose of making the stockade; and soon the
silence of the grove was broken by the noise of the axes and the
cheery voices of the men. They made enough clamour to give the alarm
to every buccaneer that might be within a mile or so; but though our
people worked with their muskets close at hand, and outposts were
placed to give us ample warning of a surprise, the island appeared
to be uninhabited save by its new masters.

It took a fortnight's hard work to construct the stockade, which was
loopholed at regular intervals, and strengthened by a mound of earth
on the inside. The soil thus utilized had been excavated so as to
form a ditch without the barrier, thus increasing the value of our
defences; while, in order to store our powder in safety, a deep hole
or cave was dug in the centre of the fortress and covered over with
the trunks of trees, on which earth was placed to a height of four
feet. This made a magazine which was proof against any shot that
might be fired into the stockade; while on the mound above it a
lookout hut had been erected, being protected against musketry by a
breastwork of sandbags.

Having completed this stronghold, the master gunner obtained
permission to mount two of the _Golden Hope's_ guns. The work of
getting these pieces of ordnance ashore was a difficult one; but,
thanks to Master Touchstone's energy and mechanical skill, they were
placed in position and so arranged that both could be brought to
fire from any side of the stockade by means of ingenious carriages
somewhat resembling those used by troops in the field.

Thus, before we were ready to send an expedition into the interior,
a month had elapsed; yet all hands felt that the time had not been
wasted, since we were now in a position to repel an attack by either
land or sea.

At length we set out to find the resting-place of the precious cargo
of the _Madre de Dios_. For this expedition twenty men were drawn
from each ship, Captain Jeremy being in command. During our absence
Captain 'Enery was left in charge of the _Golden Hope_ and her
consort, with orders to fire three guns should danger arise, as it
was supposed that the sound of the discharge would be heard at any
point on our march into the interior. Touchstone, with eleven men,
was to hold the stockade.

We were one and all heavily laden, for, in addition to our arms and
ammunition, each man carried a week's supply of provisions and an
axe, or mattock. At every half-mile three men were to be left in
order to form a chain of communication with the shore, so that by
the time we reached the place where the treasure was supposed to
lie, only twelve would remain. These twelve would be sufficient to
remove the bulk of the spoil, while the rest of the treasure could
be obtained at some future time.

Soon we plunged into the dense belt of vegetation that, I have
mentioned, lay betwixt the shore and the mountain. It consisted of
reeds, canes, and scrub, much higher than a man's head, so that we
had to guide ourselves by means of a compass. It was tedious work,
for we had to cut a path nearly every foot of the way, while in
places the ground was so swampy that we frequently sank in the mud
nearly to our knees.

Captain Jeremy had, years before, cut a path through the thicket,
and the task had occupied him more than a week; but all traces of
his former route had long been obliterated.

At length we reached a small open hillock surrounded by the thicket,
and here our first post was established; for though it was more than
half a mile from the stockade, our Captain did not care to expose
his men to the risk of fever by leaving them on the low-lying
ground.

On resuming our march the reeds and bushes became thicker, till it
was only by sheer hard cuts with our axes that we were able to
proceed, the men working by relays. It being now high noon, the heat
was terribly oppressive, a close and moist mist rising from the
marshy ground adding to our discomfort, while we were tormented by
swarms of flies, which hovered round our heads till we could scarce
open our eyes.

Nevertheless we stuck manfully to our arduous task, for it was
necessary for health's sake to avoid spending a night in that
unwholesome district. We must reach the high ground ere we pitched
our camp.

Suddenly a shout from one of our men caused us to stand to our arms.
The column halted, but Captain Jeremy, who was in the middle, forced
his way betwixt the wall of bushes and the men who were in front.

Then followed a lengthy pause, till the line of men moved forward
again, this time with greater rapidity, and I found myself standing
in an open clearing, surrounded by our astonished seamen. This
clearing was of recent date, for many of the saplings and canes
showed signs of having been cut but a short time ago, while running
north and south across the direction of our route was a fairly broad
and well-defined path.

We were now in a quandary. It would be unwise to resume our way and
leave an unexplored path betwixt us and the shore, and it would be
equally hazardous to separate our slender force into two bodies, so
that the beaten track could be examined in both directions. It was
also inexpedient that the inhabitants of the island (since it was
inhabited) should be aware of our presence until we had assured
ourselves whether they were peaceful settlers, or otherwise.

"This path has not been used for a month at least, Cap'n," said one
of our men, a smart young seaman in the carpenter's crew.

"How so?" asked Captain Jeremy.

"By these footprints, sir," replied the seaman, pointing to a number
of well-defined marks on the hard ground. "They are the footprints
of men wearing boots and also of naked feet, and they are pointing
in both directions, showing that people have walked this way and
that."

"Quite so," assented Captain Jeremy. "But how say you that these are
a month or more old?"

"The ground is quite hard; we cannot leave the imprint of our
boots," continued the seaman. "And since we have been on this island
more than a month, and no rain has fallen during all that time----"

But before he could complete his explanation the distant boom of a
cannon, followed at regular intervals by two more, caused us to look
at each other in alarm.' It was the signal for our recall; something
of extreme importance had occurred.




CHAPTER XVII

Attacked by Buccaneers


"Back to the ships!" was the cry, and with the utmost haste we
retraced our footsteps. Not having to cut our way back, our progress
was considerably quicker than on the outward journey, most of the
men casting aside their stock of provisions to enable them to
lighten their loads. Yet, owing to the marshy state of the ground
through which we floundered heavily, it was nearly two hours later
ere we emerged from the forest--if forest I may term it.

The cause of our sudden recall then became apparent, for standing in
under all plain sail were three large ships. They were still a
league or more from the mouth of our harbour, but already they were
in shoal water, so that 'twas plain they were no strangers to the
island, since they were following the intricate channel through
which we ourselves had come.

Our arrival had already been observed from our own ships, and boats
were putting off to take us on board. While we were awaiting them
Captain Jeremy ordered twelve men to reinforce the little garrison
within the stockade, and on numbering the remainder we were
astonished to find that only twenty-two remained. The outposts whom
we had left on the hillock had been recalled, and on the march not a
cry of alarm had been raised, so that the missing men must have
disappeared without a sound.

"Who are they? What are their names?" demanded Captain Jeremy
anxiously.

Several names were mentioned, although some of them, I knew, were
those of the men who had been sent to the stockade; but all were
agreed that Ned Slater was amongst the six missing seamen.

A stern look overspread Captain Jeremy's bronzed features. The loss
of the chart, and the unaccountable disappearance of a man of whom I
had expressed my distrust, had considerably shaken our Captain's
faith in his former shipmate; but, controlling himself, he ordered
the men to embark, for the boats had by this time gained the shore.

Although we hurried on board there was no unseemly haste or panic,
and as each man came up over the side he took his place in his
allotted position.

Captain 'Enery, having handed over the command to Captain Jeremy,
returned to the _Neptune_, where, as on board the _Golden Hope_, the
magazines had been opened, and powder and shot placed alongside the
guns, ere we came off.

The wind blew steadily straight on shore, so that we hoped the
strange vessels had not heard the guns fired as the return signal,
though, as most merchantmen carried small guns for this purpose, the
discharge, even had it been heard, would not have led the enemy to
suppose that our vessels were well armed.

Meanwhile we lost no time in improving our posture of defence.
Captain Jeremy sent away the long-boat with a kedge slung underneath
her, to which was attached a long hawser, leading over the ship's
stern. The kedge was then dropped, and by taking a strain on the
cable the _Golden Hope_ was brought to lie broadside on to the mouth
of the harbour. A similar manoeuvre was also carried out on board
the _Neptune_, so that all our available ordnance, or as many as
there were gun ports for, were trained on the approaching vessels,
though as yet the guns had not been run out.

In breathless silence we awaited the oncoming ships, for, by Captain
Jeremy's orders, not a shot was to be discharged, nor a shout
raised, from either brig till the word was given to open fire.

When just outside the inner reef the leading vessel rounded, and as
she did so her ensign became visible. It was the skull and
crossbones.

"She means to leave us no longer in doubt," exclaimed Captain
Jeremy. "I am right glad that she has shown yonder flag, for it
seems they take us for harmless traders, and would terrify us into
surrender."

Even as he spoke a cloud of smoke burst from the pirate's side
amidships, and a twelve-pound ball whizzed betwixt our masts,
striking our lee bulwarks and knocking up a shower of splinters;
then, rebounding, it plunged into the sea within a few yards of the
shore.

Another and another followed, while the remaining ships took up a
similar position and also opened fire. Though many of their shots
went high or passed wide, one penetrated the bulwarks, killing two
men and wounding three.

The master gunner, who had returned on board, besought our Captain
to open fire.

"No," he replied resolutely. "We must grin and bear it awhile."

Just then a shot was fired from the _Neptune_. Possibly the captain
of the gun had lost his nerve; but the shot was well aimed, for it
struck the fore mast of the nearest buccaneer.

"A pest take it!" muttered Captain Jeremy, "that will ruin all my
plans;" and springing on the poop he hailed the _Neptune_, to know
why the gun had been discharged.

Fortunately the premature shot was not followed by others, though we
expected it would be mistaken for the signal to commence firing; and
for ten minutes longer we lay under a heavy fire from all the
vessels.

Evidently the buccaneers did not wish to sink us, for they directed
their fire principally at our spars and cordage. Once we were
captured they would remove our stores and other valuable gear, and
scuttle the ships, so as to leave no trace of their fiendish
handiwork. Such has been the fate of many unfortunate merchantmen in
West Indian waters, with hardly a fragment left afloat to tell the
tale.

"Stand to it, my lads," shouted Captain Jeremy encouragingly. "Spars
can be replaced and cordage refitted. They'll get tired of that game
ere long. Lie down, all of you."

It was indeed a trying ordeal. We had already lost our foreyard,
which had tumbled down across the fo'c'sle, bringing with it a
litter of ropes, blocks, and torn canvas. Our spritsail yard, broken
in two places, dangled from the bowsprit; while our mainmast was
splintered from the futtock-shrouds to within ten feet of the deck.
Several shots had torn gaping holes in our sides, and as a result
four more dead men lay on our decks, while nearly a dozen badly
wounded were carried below.

Nor was our consort in a better plight. Her fore topmast had been
shot away early in the cannonade, her poop lanterns and part of the
taffrail had disappeared, and several ominous dark holes were
visible in her bulging yellow sides.

"How much longer are we to stand this?" asked Touchstone, as he
bound his wrist with a kerchief.

"Patience, man, patience!" was Captain Jeremy's only reply, as he
calmly surveyed the scene of destruction--the blood-stained deck
littered with the prone figures of seamen, whether they were dead,
or wounded, or unhurt; and the tangle of shattered spars and
cordage--and the smoke-enshrouded outlines of our ferocious
attackers.

Ever and anon a shrill cry of pain or an exclamation of rage would
be heard, as a mass of timber dislodged from aloft came hurtling
through the air and struck some unfortunate man crouching near the
guns; and another limp body would be borne below to add to the
steadily growing numbers of our wounded. Yet discipline, iron
discipline, prevailed, and were we to win the day we must receive
hard knocks with the traditional fortitude of Englishmen.

Ashore our stockade, its seaward face hidden by a mask of bushes,
also maintained a dignified silence, though in the case of its
defenders, they were not put to the same temptation as ourselves.

All at once two men emerged from our main hatchway, dragging with
them a great, hulking fellow, whose face was livid with terror.

"'Ere you are, Cap'n," said one of the men. "We found 'im skulking
in t'hold."

"And 'e hasn't a scratch on 'im," added the other. "Shall us pitch
'im over the side?"

For the space of a full minute Captain Jeremy intently regarded the
trembling man; then, as the cry arose, "Here they come!" he stepped
to the weather bulwarks and looked in the direction of the enemy.

"Pass the word for the crew to stand to their arms," he said in a
low tone to the master gunner; then, returning to where the abject
creature still stood cowering, "There's your chance," he remarked
quietly, pointing towards the buccaneering craft; "play the man!"




CHAPTER XVIII

"Repel Boarders!"


The three vessels had now ceased firing, and from under their sterns
six large boats, crowded with armed men, were being pulled straight
towards us with all their rowers' might.

We could see the water foaming at their bows, and hear the splash of
the oars as they dipped with rapidity and regularity, while the sun
glistened on gun barrel, pike, and cutlass.

Unmolested they passed between the two arms of the harbour, then,
having drawn into line, they separated, three boats making for each
of our vessels.

Suddenly the order was given to open fire. The guns were run out,
and the _Golden Hope_ quivered from truck to keelson with the roar
of her ordnance. The _Neptune_ followed suit, while the stockade
ashore added to the din.

The calm water around the boats was transformed into a veritable
cauldron, and it seemed impossible that a single boat could remain
afloat in that iron hail.

Although taken completely by surprise, the buccaneers were made of
stern stuff, and before the smoke cleared away sufficiently to
enable us to see the result of our united broadsides, they were
swarming up over our tall sides.

"Repel boarders!" thundered Captain Jeremy, waving his cutlass as he
sprang to meet the attack. Nobly our men responded, and midst the
sharp crack of pistols, the groans of the wounded, and the sharp
exclamations of fury, cutlass crossed with cutlass and pike
encountered pike.

I found myself opposed to a villainous halfcaste, clad only in a
pair of drawers, and armed with a large cutlass. In spite of my
efforts, for I possessed both skill and strength far beyond my age,
I soon found that I had all my work cut out, for my opponent whirled
his blade with great force and rapidity. Twice, however, I put in a
thrust beneath his guard, wounding him slightly on the hip and on
the right shoulder. Yet in spite of this slight advantage I was
slowly and surely being driven back, when, tripping over a broken
spar, I fell heavily.

Every instant I expected to feel the sweep of the pirate's cutlass,
but the blow never came. So I took courage and raised myself on my
elbow, and, to my surprise, I found my late antagonist engaged in a
hand-to-hand fight with the man who had been brought before Captain
Jeremy for skulking in the hold.

All sense of fear had apparently left the latter. I heard afterwards
that he had received a slight wound in his left arm, and the pain
had transformed him into a veritable demon. Shouting, "Let me have a
rub at the brutes!" he seized an iron bar, and met the onrushing
buccaneers with the utmost fury. Two men had already gone down
before his ponderous weapon ere, fortunately for me, he diverted the
attention of the mulatto just as he had me at his mercy.

Even as I looked the iron bar crashed past the pirate's uplifted
cutlass and, descending on the half-caste's head, stretched him
lifeless on the deck; but in the moment of victory a chance pistol
shot laid the erstwhile coward over the body of his antagonist.

It seemed at this juncture that the buccaneers would succeed in
carrying the _Golden Hope_, till Clemens, the Cornishman whom we had
rescued from the Algerine vessel, clambered up the shattered poop
ladder, and, training one of the swivel guns, which fortunately was
loaded, upon the thickest of the press of our enemies, fired a heavy
charge of small shot with deadly effect.

Then, headed by Captain Jeremy and the master gunner, our men made a
determined rush, and, still contesting every inch of our planks, the
buccaneers were forced back over the side.

A hurried glance showed that the _Neptune_ had also succeeded in
beating off her attackers, and was already resuming her fire upon
the retreating boats.

Without pausing to regain their breath, our men also remanned their
guns and poured a destructive broadside on the boats, of which three
had been sunk when we first opened fire. Two more disappeared amidst
a swirl of shot-torn water, while the sole remaining boat, moving
slowly, for most of her oars had been shattered and she was more
than half-full, managed by little short of a miracle to regain her
parent ship.

But there was no respite for our weary crew, for the three
buccaneering craft resumed their fire. It being comparatively
feeble, we knew that their guns were now ill-served, and that they
were only firing to aid their escape.

"Aim carefully! Wing 'em!" shouted the master gunner, as he passed
along the line of guns, some, alas! silent for want of a crew. In
spite of his cautions, however, our men, elated with their victory,
fired rapidly and erratically; but as the buccaneers made haste to
sheer off, the mainmast of one came crashing over the side, while
the others' spars were in a tottering state.

We could see the discomfited crew of the former vessel attack the
wreckage with axes in an attempt to free themselves from the fatal
encumbrance, but ere this could be done their ship drifted on to a
shoal.

The remaining vessels were more fortunate. Slowly tacking, they drew
beyond range, and having picked up the survivors of their consort
who, on finding their vessel aground, had abandoned her, they gained
the open sea.

"Man the long-boat and make sure of yonder craft!" shouted Captain
Jeremy. "Let go her anchors when you get aboard, or she may float
off with the rising tide."

Even as he spoke there was a crashing report, and, clapping his
hands to his head, our gallant Captain staggered and fell senseless
to the deck.

One of the buccaneers, who had been left for dead on our deck, had
treacherously shot him at almost point-blank range.

With a howl of rage some of our men threw themselves upon the
villain and dispatched him with their cutlasses, while others
hastened to raise Captain Jeremy and bear him into his cabin.

There we found that the wound, though dangerous, might not prove
mortal. The bullet had ploughed a furrow just above the temple, and
though the place bled profusely, Captain Jeremy soon recovered his
senses.

His first thought was of the disabled buccaneering vessel. "Hath the
long-boat pushed off yet?" he asked. "No? Then bid them go at once."

"Master Hammond," said Touchstone, on whom the command of the
_Golden Hope_ now devolved, "do you take charge of the boat. You
know your orders?"

"Yes, sir," I replied.

"Then carry them out--but, hark'ee, mind how you board. Be careful;
make sure she is quite deserted, and straightway examine her hold. I
know the villains; unless I am much mistaken, they will have left a
slow match to the magazine."

Taking my place in the stern sheets, I ordered the boat to give way,
feeling highly elated at my first command, yet, withal, having a
presentiment that 'twas a hazardous enterprise.

Half-way across the harbour we came upon the shattered bow of one of
the pirates' boats floating just awash, while all around were pieces
of planks, showing how effectual and destructive our fire had been.
The other boats that had been destroyed must have sunk with the
weight of their contents, for we saw no signs of them.

The deserted ship lay with her bow towards the reef on the larboard
side of the channel, and having received several shot-holes 'twixt
wind and water, had settled down somewhat, till the sea lapped her
after ports.

"She's safe enough, sir!" exclaimed one of the boat's crew, looking
over his shoulder at the wreck, as he rested on his oar. "Her hold
is full of water. That'll put out any trains, if the villains have
left them."

I was of the same opinion, so, having rowed completely round the
stranded ship, which seemed quite deserted, I gave the word to run
alongside.

Bidding all the men save one to remain in the boat, I made sure of
the priming of my pistols, then swinging myself up the side by means
of the cordage of the broken mainmast, I gained the deck.

It was deserted, save for the corpses of some half a dozen men who
had been slain by the discharge of our ordnance, most of them being
shockingly mangled.

A hurried yet cautious search revealed a like state of things in the
after cabins, while the fo'c'sle was also empty. Peering down the
main hatch I saw that, as we had expected, the main hold was
flooded, though amidships the depth of water was but a foot.

Making fast one end of a rope, for there was no sign of a ladder, I
threw the other end down the hatchway, and by this means gained the
sloping planks of the hold. Ankle deep in water, I made my way
forward, till in the dim light I perceived a stout bulkhead running
athwartships and pierced by a little sliding door, or hatch.

Owing to the slight list of the ship this door had jammed, so that
it required considerable effort ere I opened it sufficiently to
enable me to squeeze through.

Within it seemed as black as the darkest night, till I saw a sight
that caused me to be rooted to the spot. Softly fizzing and
spluttering within a few inches of two tiers of sinister-looking
barrels was a fuse!




CHAPTER XIX

Blown Up


To play the part of a bold hero, I suppose I ought to have made a
dash for the burning train and put out the fire. But I did nothing
of the kind--I simply stood still and watched with horror-stricken
eyes the dim glimmer of the fuse. Even had I had the presence of
mind and the courage to make the attempt, the ordering of the
barrels would have prevented me, for the train was laid 'twixt tiers
standing so close together that there was scarce a hand's width
between their bulging sides.

Already I regarded myself as doomed to die a swift and terrible
death, but remembering my comrades in the boat, I backed away from
the hatchway. I tried to raise a warning shout, but not a sound save
a feeble gurgle could I utter. My tongue clave to the roof of my
parched mouth, while my heart beat like a sledge-hammer.

Dipping my hand in the water that flooded the floor of the hold, I
moistened my lips, then--

"Push off, men!" I shouted. "A fuse!"

The effect of my warning was instantly plain. The man who had
accompanied me on deck leapt into the long-boat, and I heard the
scraping of their oars as the crew pushed off with feverish haste.

Now that I look back upon this matter, I can scarce blame them. They
acted according to my orders, combined with the thought of
self-preservation. Doubtless in their panic they knew not whether
one or two persons had leapt from the ship's bulwarks into the boat.
But be that as it may, they rowed off with all their might and left
me to my fate--and a hideous one at that.

Yet, as the explosion had not taken place, I gathered courage, and
seizing the rope by which I had descended into the hold, I began to
swarm up it. Suddenly, although it had appeared sound and had borne
my weight before, it parted like pack thread, and I fell on my back
in the hold, where the water broke my fall.

I was on my feet in an instant, now alert to take every possible
chance of saving myself, and seeing a shaft of light in the dim
recesses of the after hold, I waded down the sloping planks till the
water rose to my shoulders.

A few strokes sufficed to bring me to where a small hatch
communicated with the main deck, for the water was here so high that
by raising my arm I could grasp the coaming of the hatchway.

Though my sodden clothing seemed like lead as my body drew clear of
the surface, I managed to drag myself through the opening and gain
the deck, where, without a moment's hesitation, I rushed on to the
poop, and sprang over the taffrail into the sea.

I must have dived to a depth of from two to three fathoms, for I
could see the rocky bottom of the sea a few feet below me; and just
as I was on the point of ascending to the surface, I heard the roar
of the explosion.

It seemed as if the drums of my ears were broken by the concussion,
while the water was agitated by a sudden current, or eddy, that
swept me along the bottom. I remained underneath till I could
contain my breath no longer, then with a few strokes I rose to the
surface.

All around a heavy, pungent cloud, or rather haze, of smoke
enveloped everything, though towering above me I could discern the
outlines of the ship's poop. That, at all events, had withstood the
shock and had proved my salvation, for the pieces of shattered
timber were still falling, many of them being shot skywards to a
terrific height.

I trod water for a space till all danger from the falling debris was
over, then, swimming round the scorched and shattered side of the
ship, I found a place where the timbers had been torn away right to
the water's edge.

Half-suffocated by the fumes, for many of the planks still
smouldered, I made my way aft to where the poop deck remained
practically intact; and utterly done up, I threw myself down, too
dazed to realize that I had been miraculously preserved.

How long I remained in that position I cannot tell, but at length I
staggered to my feet and looked around.

The ships of the escaping buccaneers were still visible, though
nearly hull down. They had hauled to the wind and were standing on a
northerly course parallel with the eastern shore of the island.

Looking round the harbour, I could see the _Golden Hope_ and the
_Neptune_, their sides crowded with men, while within a few hundred
yards of them was the long-boat, rowing slowly, with her gunwale
barely showing. So she had not escaped unhurt, I reasoned.

Of the vessel on which I stood nearly two-thirds had quite
disappeared, while of the quarter-deck only a few blackened
crossbeams and ribs remained. All around were pieces of timber of
all sizes and shapes, slowly drifting shorewards with the flood
tide.

The black flag, with its grinning skull and crossbones, was trailing
in the water under the wreck's quarter. This would serve for a
signal, so, hauling it on board, I lashed it to a pike, which in
turn I fastened to an iron socket that at one time had supported the
poop lantern.

My signal was soon observed, and a boat was put off from the
_Neptune_; and while awaiting her arrival I ran below and made a
second examination of the cabins and after hold. Most of the former
were luxuriously furnished, though they had suffered severely, from
both our shot and the effect of the explosion. Yet, brief as was my
inspection, I saw that two of them were used as store places, and
that they were filled with the loot of many an unfortunate vessel.
Gold and silver ornaments and plate, coins of a dozen different
countries, and other precious goods filled the lockers. To me it
seemed enough for the ransom of a king.

Looking through the hatch by which I had escaped from the hold, I
perceived how nearly the whole of the treasure had been lost to us,
for now, plainly visible in the flooded after-magazine, were barrels
of powder, far more than the fore part of the ship had contained;
while from one of them a wisp of tow floated towards the surface.
Its charred end showed how near had been the consummation of the
buccaneers' diabolical plan, for when the magazine was flooded the
fuse had burned to within a foot of the powder.

Great was the astonishment of the men to find me alive and unhurt,
for although I had been seen standing on the poop, no one on the
ship had recognized me. My clothing was rent, and my damp hair hung
over my face, which was black with charcoal, smoke, and dust.
Captain 'Enery had concluded that I had perished in the explosion,
and that the figure they had seen on board was that of one of the
buccaneers, who, on the vessel being blown up, had swum off from a
neighbouring shoal.

"The wreck is full of treasure," I announced, and on hearing the
good news the boat's crew gave a hearty cheer. Some were for making
their way on board, but the coxswain sternly ordered them to remain
in the boat.

"The stuff is safe enow," said he, "and all will share and share
alike when the time comes. There's plenty of work to be done before
we trouble about what's aboard yon craft."

This was the case, for when the boat put me once more aboard the
_Golden Hope_ I found all hands busily engaged in clearing up the
damage done in the fight. The work of making good the mischief done
aloft would take weeks of continuous labour, though the spars of the
wrecked buccaneer could be utilized to replace our own, for,
trailing over the side, they had escaped the force of the explosion.

But though the ships suffered severely, our loss in men was far more
to be deplored. The Golden Hope had eleven killed and fifteen
wounded, including Captain Jeremy, and the _Neptune_ nine killed and
seventeen wounded. In the stockade, however, not a single man had
been hit. Thus, including the six men who were missing after our
futile expedition to recover the treasure, only one hundred and
twenty-eight were fit for duty, and of these nearly two score had
received slight wounds.

My first act on returning on board was to see how Captain Jeremy was
progressing. I found that he was sleeping peacefully, his wound
having been carefully dressed; and that, should no feverish symptoms
make their appearance, his recovery would be but a matter of a few
weeks. As quietness was a necessity, it was planned that he should
be carried ashore to the stockade with the rest of the wounded on
the following day, so as not to be disturbed by the shipwrights and
riggers at their work.

That night, as I lay on my bunk, I pondered over the words of the
old friar, Pedro Lopez. Surely we had gone through enough bloodshed
and fire to fulfil the exacting conditions that had to be carried
out ere we recovered the treasure? Would not the facts that a score
of our men were awaiting burial on this far-off island, and that
over thirty more were groaning on the ballast, serve to appease the
wrath of the slaughtered Spaniards? And when I thought of my ordeal
by fire, and my terrible position as I waited for the crash of the
explosion, I prayed that we had seen the last of our perils.

It must have been about eight bells of the middle watch (4 a.m.),
ere it was light, when a sharp rattle of musketry caused me to
awaken with a start. Hastily rushing on deck, I found our men
already standing to their guns, while on shore a desperate conflict
was in progress.

The stockade was attacked on all sides.




CHAPTER XX

The Repulse at the Stockade


Who our new enemies were, and whence they came, we knew not. Judging
by the outer ring of flashes, it would seem that they outnumbered
the defenders of the stockade by seven to one; for only twenty-five
men had been left on shore on the preceding evening.

These were once more under the command of Touchstone, who, on the
termination of our fight with the pirate ships, had resumed his post
at the base of our operations on land. Yet the handful of men, under
the spirited leadership of the master gunner, ought to prove
themselves equal to their attackers, as they had the advantage of a
stout breastwork.

But while the fight continued we were tormented with doubts and
fears. In the darkness we could tell by the rapid spurts of flame
that came from the stockade that our men were fiercely contesting
their ground, although by the flashes encircling them we knew that
the attack was being pushed close home.

Nor could we render any assistance, for our broadsides might do more
harm to friend than to foe; while it would be extremely hazardous to
attempt to land an armed party on an open beach, as we knew not the
numbers of our enemies. Moreover, in the darkness we might fire on,
or be fired upon by our own men.

Above the crackle of musketry and the shouts of the combatants we
could distinguish the deeper crash of the ordnance that had been
landed from the _Golden Hope_, while now and again would come an
ominous lull, only to be broken by another crash of guns and the
noise of a hand-to-hand conflict.

Having loaded all our ordnance on the landward side, and kept such
of our boats as were still seaworthy close alongside, we could only
await the dawn, of which signs were already apparent.

At length it grew light, with all the splendour and rapidity of a
West Indian dawn, and we were able to see how things fared ashore.

The stockade was still in the hands of Touchstone and his men,
though two gaps in the palisades showed how close home the attack
had been pushed. Yet around these breaches the dead lay thick, while
scattered over the plain were other corpses, proving how well our
people had handled their muskets.

Drawn up at a distance of half a mile from the stockade was a body
of musketeers, to the number of about fifty. They were evidently
planning a fresh attack, for those who carried firearms had their
matches lighted. Yet they appeared to have no heart to advance, for
we saw one whom we supposed to be their leader beckon angrily with
his sword.

One broadside from the _Neptune_ sent them helter-skelter. They fled
past the landward side of the stockade, though beyond musket range,
and disappeared behind the rising ground that terminated in the
headland on the northern side of the harbour.

Captain 'Enery immediately sent two boats ashore laden with men,
and, going with them, I was able to see the effects of the attack.

It appeared that our sentinels had heard the sound of footsteps and,
receiving no reply to their challenge, had opened fire. The garrison
had barely time to stand to their arms and man the stockade ere the
foremost of their attackers gained the ditch, and attempted to rush
the palisade.

In the protracted defence we had lost but three men killed and four
badly wounded, while of our enemies nearly two score were found
lying outside the defence.

One of the latter, being but slightly wounded in the leg, was
brought into the stockade and questioned. Doubtless expecting to be
hanged forthwith, he maintained a sullen silence, till Touchstone
promised him his life should he speak the truth. This offer,
combined with a number of veiled threats should he still prove
obstinate, had its effect, and the prisoner became communicative.

His was a disquieting report. In the north-western part of the
island, some eight or nine miles by the direct route across the
marshy forest, though nearly twice that distance by the coast, was a
settlement inhabited by buccaneers. They had seen our arrival, but,
owing to the fact that their squadron of four vessels was away on a
cruise, they had refrained from molesting us till the ships
returned.

Possibly they were unaware of our expedition into the interior, for
had they known of this they would certainly have ambushed our party
on the march.

The prolonged stay of our two ships in the harbour had puzzled them
not a little, and when their three vessels returned, the fourth
having been separated from her consorts, a combined attack by land
and sea had been planned.

By some means the two buccaneering parties had failed to co-operate,
so that their ships had already been beaten off ere the land force
appeared. The latter had heard the firing, but, little thinking that
we should have held our own, they imagined the victory already
complete, till in the darkness they stumbled upon our stockade.

"How many men were left to guard your settlement?" demanded
Touchstone.

"Only a handful--enough to keep the slaves in order," replied our
prisoner.

"Is the place fortified?"

"By a wall and a ditch. There are eighteen guns in position."

"And when will the fourth ship return?"

"I do not know."

"Remove him," ordered the master gunner, and he hurried off to the
shore, whence the crew of one of the boats rowed him to the _Golden
Hope_.

In less than half an hour he returned, bringing with him another
reinforcement of armed men.

"My lads," said he, "I have obtained Cap'n 'Enery's consent. I
propose to lead a body of men across the island, ambush the rest of
these rascals, and, if successful, follow that up by seizing and
burning their dwellings and storehouses. Forty men will be
sufficient. Now, who's going to volunteer?"

Every one of us expressed his readiness for the service, but,
refusing to take more than the number he had stated, the master
gunner picked out his force, and examined their arms. Then, for
every moment was precious, he gave them the word to march, and the
little band set out on its errand.

Although I wished to share in the enterprise, Master Touchstone
refused to allow me to accompany them, and to my disappointment I
watched them disappear in the belt of canes and scrub by the route
that we had twice traversed but a few hours before.

Four days passed without any tidings of our comrades, and we were
naturally anxious at their prolonged absence. Yet those of our men
who remained were not kept idle. The work of refitting proceeded
apace, while advantage was taken of a spell of fine weather to bring
off all the precious cargo that remained in the shattered hull of
the wrecked buccaneer. Her name, we discovered, was the _Black
Arrow_, her burthen being two hundred and eighty tons. She was the
smallest of the pirate fleet, the others being the _Terror_, of
three hundred and twenty tons, the _Bonito_, of three hundred tons,
and the _Secret_, of the same burthen. This last was the vessel that
we had not as yet fallen in with. Should she have returned to the
pirates' haven, her crew would be able to rout our little force; so,
as this event might take place, our anxieties increased as the hours
passed with no news of Touchstone and his men.

Owing to the great reduction in the number of our men by death and
wounds, together with the absence of Touchstone and his party, only
eighty remained. Captain 'Enery therefore determined to temporarily
abandon the _Neptune_, so that our slender force might be divided to
the best advantage 'twixt the _Golden Hope_ and the stockade.

With our own ship well manned we could beat off any attack from
seawards, even should the still undamaged _Secret_ rejoin her
consorts; while the garrison ashore had to be maintained, so that
the master gunner and his people might have a refuge should they be
compelled to retreat before a superior force.

During the three days following their departure the wind had blown
steadily on shore, and we were thus prevented from hearing any
sounds of an engagement with the retreating buccaneers, although on
the evening of the third day I thought I heard the sound of a
distant cannonade.

"It does sound like it," assented Captain 'Enery, when I called his
attention to the circumstance, "though it may be thunder."

"Whatever it is, it comes from seaward," said the quartermaster.

"Sink me, if I like this business," replied Captain 'Enery. "No news
for three days, and then the sound of cannonade at sea. I'll send a
man away to-night, and let him gather news of Touchstone."

Accordingly Clemens, the Cornishman, was selected to make his way in
the darkness in the direction of the buccaneers' line of retreat.
The man could be thoroughly trusted to look after himself, for he
was as crafty as a fox, while he possessed such a turn of speed that
few could hope to overtake him in flight.

By daybreak, according to his instructions, he returned, without
encountering a single living being; yet he reported that there had
been an engagement, for the ground bore traces of a conflict, broken
weapons lying about everywhere. Who were the victors he was unable
to state, though he followed the marks left by a number of men till
the approach of daybreak made it necessary to retrace his steps. The
mystery seemed to deepen.

About noon on the same day our look-outs reported the appearance of
a body of armed men over the brow of the distant hill. Immediately
there was a rush on deck, and glasses were brought to bear on the
arrivals.

"Hurrah!" shouted one of the crew. "'Tis Master Touchstone and his
party."

"You're right," said Captain 'Enery. "But what doth it mean? There
are at least a score of armed men more than he took with him."




CHAPTER XXI

Captain Craddock


Fired with impatience to solve the mystery, Captain 'Enery rowed
ashore and proceeded to the stockade, there to await Touchstone's
return; and in half an hour the expedition rejoined us. There were,
as Captain 'Enery had said, at least a score of strangers, all well
armed and mingling freely with our people in a friendly manner;
while at Touchstone's side walked a man who was evidently someone in
authority.

He was little in stature, yet of great breadth across the shoulders,
and long in body. His legs seemed disproportionately short, so that
he strutted like a young bantam. He was clean shaven, his sunburnt
features being hard in expression, while the stern glint in his eyes
betokened a commanding nature.

"Have I the honour of addressing Captain Henry?" asked the little
man pompously.

"Cap'n 'Enery, if it please you," replied that worthy. "And you,
sir?"

"I am Captain Edmund Craddock, commanding His Majesty's ship
_Antelope_. I am beholden to your men for their co-operation in
assisting to exterminate this nest of rascally pirates; but, in the
execution of my duty, I must demand to see your warrant for your
presence on this island with an armed force."

"That can be shown you on board the _Golden Hope_, your honour,"
replied Captain 'Enery.

"I trust so, for your own sakes," the other said; "therefore let us
proceed on board her."

"He's a cool game-cock," remarked Clemens in an undertone to the
master gunner, as we followed Captain 'Enery and the naval officer
to the boats. "Why, for all he knows he may be running into a den of
pirates!"

"I'll tell you more of him anon," replied Touchstone; "but take it
from me, he knows his business."

On boarding the _Golden Hope_, Captain Craddock, accompanied by
Captain 'Enery, retired to the cabin where Captain Jeremy was lying.
Here they remained talking for more than an hour; but the interview
must have been satisfactory all round, for on returning to the
quarter-deck I saw the naval captain produce his snuff-box and offer
it with a grave flourish to Captain 'Enery.

"Well, I wish you joy on it," I heard him remark. "If you find the
treasure, for I've no doubt that it is on the island, you'll be far
luckier than a good many. With your permission, I'll remain your
guest till my vessel arrives."

"Does she know the channel?"

"As well as she knows her way into Spithead," replied the other,
laughing. "Do you think I've cruised among these islands for the
last twenty years, off and on, for nothing?"

Meanwhile the men who had accompanied Touchstone were gathered on
the fo'c'sle, surrounded by a group of eager listeners, all anxious
to hear the story of the pursuit; and at the same time the master
gunner was relating the tale to the bos'n, the quartermaster, and
myself.

"We covered the path through the forest in double-quick time," said
he; "and directly we gained the crossroads that Captain Miles had
hit upon we turned to the right. A mile farther on this road forked,
the larger or left-hand path apparently making towards the pirates'
settlement. As I thought 'twould be better to set an ambush as far
from that place as possible, I took our men by the right-hand path,
and finished up at a little cove, where three small boats were
hauled up, quite deserted."

"There we took cover, for there were rocks in plenty, the seaside
path running betwixt the boulders and a low cliff. We had not been
there more than a couple of hours ere Jonas Cook, who had been sent
off to keep a look-out, came running back with the news that the
buccaneers were close at hand."

"On they came, quite unsuspectingly, straggling over a quarter of a
mile of ground. This was bad for us, for our ambush would not allow
every man of them to be surprised; so we let the head of the column
pass, and then I gave the word to fire."

"We bowled a lot of them over like skittles those who had already
passed broke and fled, but those in the rear, instead of running
away, dashed towards us with pistol and cutlass. Although we gave
them another volley, they still came on, till, being outnumbered,
most of them were cut down. The remnant, escaping our fire, broke
through our ambush and followed those who had gone on ahead."

"Wouldn't they have done better if they had run back and taken cover
in the woods?" asked the quartermaster.

"I am right glad they didn't, or we should have had our work cut out
to run them down," replied Touchstone. "They feared that a party was
at their heels to complete the trap, and therefore they chose to run
the gauntlet of our fire. But 'twas all the better for us."

"How so?"

"Why, we had them all in front of us. We pursued them for close on a
mile, till from the top of a hill we saw a harbour larger than this,
with a group of houses surrounded by a stockade on one side of it.
And in the middle of the harbour were two large ships. Before the
rascally villains could reach this fort a body of men rushed out.
'This is too many for us,' I thought, and I was about to beat a
retreat when I saw the new-comers open fire on the runaways, who
straightway laid down their arms and were instantly secured."

"Then I saw for the first time that both the vessels flew English
colours, and when we had made ourselves known we found out that they
were the frigate _Antelope_ and the buccaneering craft _Secret_,
which had been captured the day before. We won't be troubled with
those rascals again, at all events, for the _Antelope_ sank the two
that escaped from here and, as I said, took the third. But----"

"Sail, ho!"

"Whither away?" shouted the bos'n, our conversation terminating
abruptly with the interruption.

Gliding round the end of the reef by a channel of which we ourselves
were ignorant came a graceful frigate, the setting sun gleaming on
her brown canvas and her black-and-yellow sides, while the red cross
of St. George streamed proudly in the breeze.

Smartly handled, she worked her way in through the narrow,
land-locked entrance; then luffing up into the wind, she dropped
anchor within a cable's length of the _Golden Hope_.

"What think ye of her, gentlemen?" asked Captain Craddock, with
justifiable pride. "I'll warrant she's the smartest 40-gun frigate
afloat, even though I, her captain, say it."

No one would have thought, to see the gallant vessel, that she had
been in action with three buccaneers but two or three days ago. Her
ports, picked out in vermilion, had been repainted, while every spar
and rope was intact. Yet, on closer inspection, a number of neatly
plugged holes in her sheering sides showed how fierce had been the
engagement.

"We'll lie here for a few days," continued Captain Craddock, as his
barge came alongside to take him back to the frigate. "If we can be
of service to you in the matter of spare spars, cordage, or gear,
you have but to say so."

Captain Craddock was as good as his word, and, thanks to his
assistance, not only were our wounded carefully tended by the
chirurgeon of the frigate, but the work of refitting the _Golden
Hope_ and the _Neptune_ proceeded far more rapidly than we had
expected, so that when the _Antelope_ weighed and set sail for Port
Royal, our two ships looked little the worse for the severe ordeal
they had undergone.

Meanwhile Captain Jeremy continued to progress favourably, yet
slowly. In this interval we could do nothing towards recovering the
_Madre_ treasure, so it is little wonder that time hung heavily on
our hands.

One morning I landed with the intention of walking along the cliffs
to the place where the _Madre_ had first gone ashore ere she had
slipped back into deep water. With me went one of the seamen, for
'twas unwise to stray far from the stockade alone. We were both
armed, the man carrying his cutlass and a pistol in his belt, while
I had a fowling-piece.

In less than an hour we gained the summit of the cliff, which was
there about one hundred feet in height, though divided into two
sheer drops of half that distance by a terrace or ledge, about six
feet in width.

"See yon dark line in the water?" asked the Seaman. "'Tis the
deep-water channel across the shoal by which the frigate came into
harbour. I heard Cap'n 'Enery and the bos'n say as 'ow they were
going to sound it. When we get out of 'ere--when, I says, with all
due respect to you, Master Hammond--we ought to take yon passage and
save a couple of leagues through the other one by which we came."

"There's a boat putting off from the _Golden Hope_ now," I
exclaimed.

"That be it for sartain. Howsomever, I'd liefer be here than
sounding all day in the broiling sun."

"What a number of sea-birds!" I said, pointing to the face of the
lower cliff, about which thousands of white, grey, and black gulls
and cormorants were darting in and out of the crevices, making a
continuous din. "Are they good for food? If so, I'll have a shot at
some of them."

"Too fishy to my liking," replied the man, as he settled himself on
the grass and proceeded to fill a short black pipe. "Their eggs
ain't so bad, though. I've a mind to come 'ere with a rope, like I
used to do at home. I'm a Portland man, I am, and know how to go
bird-nesting. But if you want to, you can try a shot at 'em. I'll
bring up 'ere for a spell and have a pipe. But mind you don't go too
near the edge; it might give way."

Accordingly I shouldered my piece and walked towards a gap in the
cliffs where, I could see, a natural path led to the lower ledge.
For a moment I hesitated, for a false step would send me crashing
upon the rocky platform below, with the prospect of a further tumble
of fifty feet into the sea. But being cool-headed and now well
accustomed to dizzy heights, I began to descend.

The path was little more than a succession of rough steps, covered
with the deserted nests of sea-fowl, here and there partially hidden
by a few tufts of coarse grass. I had to exercise considerable
caution to prevent myself slipping, but at length I reached the
ledge or platform without mishap.

Here I took cover behind a detached boulder to allow the birds to
return, for my presence had alarmed them, so that they had
temporarily flown farther afield.

I had primed my musket and laid it within arm's length, and was
patiently awaiting their reappearance, when a dark shadow fell
athwart the rock.

Instinctively I turned my head to ascertain the cause, when a hand
was clapped over my mouth, and I felt the contact of a man's knees
with the small of my back.

I was a prisoner.




CHAPTER XXII

A Leap for Life


In spite of my desperate struggles, a cord was wound tightly round
my ankles, and my arms were bound behind my back. This done, a thick
piece of canvas took the place of the hand across my mouth, so that
I could scarce breathe, much less utter a sound; and a bandage was
tied across my eyes.

Then I felt myself being set upon my feet, a rope was passed round
my waist, and I was suspended over the edge of the cliff, as
helpless as a trussed fowl.

"Stand by!" I heard a gruff voice exclaim, and the next instant I
was lowered into space, where I hung, turning slowly at the rope's
end, with the dull murmur of the waves at the base of the cliff some
fifty feet below to add to the terror of my situation.

By the number of successive short jerks I knew that I had not been
lowered more than ten feet when I was seized by rough hands and
dragged in towards the cliff. The rope by which I had been lowered
was cast off, and, lifted in a horizontal position, I was borne
away.

The sudden change from the scorching rays of the sun to a chilly
atmosphere, and the echoing footsteps of my captors, told me that I
was being carried along a tunnel in the rocks. I distinctly counted
four-and-forty footfalls ere the men set me down upon a stone floor;
then the bandage was whipped off my eyes, and I found myself
blinking in the subdued daylight.

Surrounding me I recognized Ned Slater and the five others who had
slipped away on our retreat through the forest.

"Now, youngster," began the villainous rascal, whom I now knew to be
guilty of my father's murder and the theft of the chart, to say
nothing of his other crimes, "no beating about the bush, or 'twill
be the worse for you. Where lieth the treasure?"

"I know not. You have the chart."

"Aye," he replied, with a hideous oath, "and little good it is to
us. It is marked 'Much treasure here'--here, on or near this spot;
but that is false. I know it, and you know it. Now, where does the
treasure lie--somewhere inland? or was that part of old Miles's plan
to mislead us? Come now, answer."

"I cannot say, nor would not if I could."

"You lie, you young rascal. But I'll find a way to make you use your
tongue, though you may shout till you're black in the face, for no
one will hear you. Search him first."

Two of the rogues emptied my pockets and relieved me of my knife.

"Ho, ho! What have we here?" exclaimed Slater, examining the blade
carefully. "'Tis an old acquaintance. Nay, I go farther--'tis my
property."

"Considering you sheathed it in my father's body," I replied boldly,
"'tis not to be wondered at, you double-dyed murderer."

"All is fair in love and war," he replied. "If your father barred my
way, what was to be done? But take heed, lest I plunge it into your
body. Now, once again, where does the treasure lie hidden?"

I did not reply, for I was hard at work trying to devise some plan
of thwarting him and at the same time of effecting my escape.

Finding that I remained obstinate, they left me lying bound and
helpless, with a pannikin of water within a foot of my face, having
previously moistened my lips with salt water.

I was indeed in a very tight fix. The cave was about ten feet in
height, but owing to a sharp bend I was unable to see how long it
was, or in what direction it dived into the rock. Unless one knew of
its existence, he might search the ledge above for hours without
being aware that its mouth yawned ten feet beneath. No doubt when I
was missed a search would be made for me, with the result that it
would be supposed that I had fallen over the edge into the sea.

As I lay unable to stir hand or foot, my thirst grew intolerable, my
tongue was parched, and my throat burned like a lime-kiln. Yet
within a foot stood a vessel of water which, for the good it did me,
might have been better out of my sight.

Away in the recesses of the cave I could hear my captors talking in
eager tones, doubtless highly excited at their success, for 'twas
certain that they thought I held the prized secret.

"Get it from him at all costs, then do as you say," I heard one
remark.

"Hush! not so loud," replied another.

"Yet it must be done."

"I know; I'm not saying anything against that, so----"

Here their voices became inaudible, but in those few words I
gathered the full signification of their intentions. When they had
finished with me they meant to finish me in a very complete sense.

Plan after plan flashed across my mind, only to be dismissed as
impracticable, till, with the faintest ray of hope, I lighted on a
scheme that might serve my purpose.

At length Ned Slater returned, humming a rollicking air, and with a
hideous grin on his face. Stooping down, he raised the pannikin of
water to his lips and took a draught with the utmost ostentation.

This done, he motioned as if to give me what remained in the vessel,
but when 'twas within a few inches of my mouth he slowly and
deliberately withdrew it. Twice did he offer the water, then with a
steady hand he poured it on the floor, so that the liquid splashed
over my bound hands.

"A curse on my clumsiness!" said he. "I must needs fill the pannikin
again."

I heard the hollow sound of his footsteps retreating down the
passage, but presently he returned, with the pannikin filled to the
brim. Setting it down where it formerly stood, he said:

"Help yourself, you young rascal; there's plenty to spare."

Had the water been a thousand leagues off, I could not have helped
myself any the less, and the villain knew it.

"Now, concerning the plan," he began, pointing to the chart which he
held in his hand. "Art still of the same mind?"

"I'll tell you," I replied hoarsely; then, feigning with little
effort, I began to cough and gulp as if unable to continue.

"Water!" I gasped, after a while.

He raised the pannikin and allowed a thin stream to trickle on to my
face, and as I swallowed the cold liquid it seemed to instil new
life into my tortured body.

"That chart is not correct," I began.

"I knew it," he replied, in a tone of triumphant expectancy; "but
I'll lay hands on the treasure."

"And when you do, can you remove it from the island?"

"I'll find away," he replied, with a leer. "Dost think I have no
friends aboard the ships?"

"Cast my hand loose, and I'll trace a plan of the island," I
continued, pretending to ignore the latter part of his remark.

"Very well, then; but no trickery, or----" and he touched the hilt
of my knife, which he was wearing in his belt.

"Do I look as if I could trick you?" I asked wearily. "A lad with
his feet bound could not hope to get the better of you."

Without another word he cut the rope that encircled my arms, then,
stepping back a pace, he drew the knife and held it in a menacing
position.

I gave a short glance at the rope that bound my feet. It was thin
cord, commonly known as half-inch line.

"Let this represent the coast," I began, tracing an irregular line
in the dust that covered the floor of the cave. "Here is the cliff,
and here the place where the _Madre_ first struck. The first
hiding-place of the treasure was here, I take it."

"'Tis more to the east, if yon point marks the cliff. Thus says the
chart."

"Does it?" I asked, with feigned surprise. "Art sure?"

"Look for yourself," said he, holding the parchment close to my
face.

"The light is bad," I replied, peering at the crabbed writing. "Turn
it this way, so that it shows to the best advantage. 'Tis as I said;
the place lies to the west of the cliff, just here----"

The villain's face was within arm's length, for in his eagerness he
had drawn closer to hear my explanation. My fist shot out with a
swift upward movement, and, taking him fairly on the point of his
chin, sent him staggering against the opposite wall, whence he fell
senseless to the ground.

In two bounds I was at his side, and seizing the knife, I severed
the rope that fastened my ankles.

"At least," thought I, as I made ready to strike home, "if I am to
die, you'll not live to see my death."

But ere I could achieve my aim, one of the rogues appeared, and,
raising his arm, discharged a pistol at me.

The bullet ploughed through my hair, but without a moment's
hesitation I flung myself straight at the man. Down he went,
screaming with pain, with my knife betwixt his ribs.

Now or never I must gain the mouth of the cave, so, dashing forward,
I ran along the tunnel towards the place where I knew the rest of
the villains to be, for I heard them shouting in alarm as they
hastened to their comrade's aid.

Just then I noticed that the passage, or tunnel, turned sharply to
the left, and was quite dark when compared with the subdued light of
that portion of the cave in which I had been kept a prisoner.

Down I lay full length on the floor, resting on my left side, and as
the four men rushed blindly onward the first tripped over my
prostrate body. The second I caught by the ankle, and he also fell,
while the remaining two were brought up by a barrier of sprawling
legs.

Ere they could realize who I was, I regained my feet, darted betwixt
them and the wall of the cavern, and headed straight for the
entrance.

Nor did I stop to think, but, gathering speed as I ran, I boldly
leapt into space, still grasping the fatal knife in my hand.

Even as I felt myself hurtling through those fifty feet, however, I
wondered whether, in my impetuous leap, I would strike the sea or
solid rock, for I had not even stopped to see whether the cliff
there fell sheer into the water or not.

Fortunately the precipice sloped inwards, so that I escaped being
dashed to pieces. Keeping in an upright position, I struck the water
feet first with tremendous force, and plunged beneath the surface to
a considerable depth.

A few lusty strokes sufficed to bring me to the surface, however,
and shaking my hair from my face, I struck out for the shelter of
the overhanging cliff, so that I should be unperceived by the rogues
in the cave.

It being close on low tide, the rise and fall in those parts being
but five feet at most, there was nothing that would afford a
foothold; the rocks were as smooth as a plank, and covered with a
thick, dark curtain of seaweed.

Owing to the slight swell, the backwash of the waves made swimming a
matter of difficulty, as I was continually in peril of being thrown
against the cliff; and realizing that the sooner I found a
landing-place the better, I again struck out, swimming along the
face of the cliff and about ten feet from it, keeping a sharp
look-out both for a possible refuge and for the swell, of which
every seventh wave was more dangerous than the rest.

Having struck a current or eddy that ran close inshore, I made rapid
progress, and in less than a quarter of an hour rounded a spur or
headland that I knew was within a few hundred yards of the mouth of
the harbour where the _Golden Hope_ lay at anchor.

But here I found, to my peril, that the eddy was no longer in my
favour. On the contrary, before I was aware of it I was being
rapidly carried out to sea by a current that ran at a rate of over
three knots an hour.

Once I realized the impossibility of making headway, I turned on my
back and paddled easily. The sea was warm, and unless unforeseen
circumstances arose, I could keep afloat for an hour or more with
little effort. Ere then I hoped to be seen by the searchers on the
cliff, or that the current would have changed in my favour. So,
buoyed up by hope, I allowed myself to drift with the tide.

Soon I saw that I was nearly abreast that part of the cliff from
which I had leapt, yet at a distance of nearly half a mile from it.
I could discern the sloping part of the ledge where I had been
surprised, and the dark, yawning mouth of the cavern, though I could
see nothing of the rogues who dwelt there. There was some
consolation in the fact that neither could they see me, nor was I
within musket range; but against that there was the growing prospect
of being swept far out to sea, to perish slowly in a vast waste of
water.

At length I noticed that the sea, which all around was calm save for
a gentle swell, was at a short distance ahead beginning to change in
appearance. Short-crested waves were breaking over a shoal. That I
knew by experience, but whether 'twas but a "tide rip", or really
shallow water, I knew not.

The set of the tide carried me right towards the centre of this
extent of agitated water, and to my relief I was soon standing on
rocky ground, with the sea barely above my knees.

I was still in a position of great peril, for the rocks were
slippery with kelp, while the current was strong enough to threaten
to sweep me off my feet. Even though the tide might fall a few
inches, I knew full well that ere long the flood would set in, and
thus before high water the depth would be too great for me to retain
a foothold.

Looking landwards, I saw by the agitation of the waves that the
shoal extended well towards the shore, the distance between being
but a few hundred yards. At this my hopes recovered, for could I
walk or wade in that direction and await the change of tide, the
same current that had carried me seawards would render me a good
service in bearing me back towards the harbour.

I had not proceeded far, for wading was a matter of extreme
difficulty, when a whip-like object seized my leg like a vice. The
sensation was paralysing, for it seemed as if I was being burnt in a
score of places at once. Like a flash I realized my danger. I was in
the grip of an octopus!




CHAPTER XXIII

The Perils of the Shoal


Before I could take any steps to free myself from the loathsome
embraces of the octopus, another tentacle fastened itself round my
leg, while others writhed menacingly in an attempt to seize their
prey. The creature's body seemed but about the size of a sheep's
head, while each of the arms or tentacles was less than a yard in
length.

Retaining its hold on the rocks with a pair of its arms, the hideous
brute began to increase its grasp on my leg, while at the union of
the slimy tentacles I could distinguish a pair of small, protruding
eyes and a formidable beak. That beak was slowly approaching my
naked flesh, to rend it asunder.

Being without shoes, for I had kicked them off when I began
swimming, I was unable to stamp on the creature with my yet free
foot, though any attempt to do so might have led to my undoing, as I
had all my work cut out to prevent myself from being capsized. Once
prone on those slippery rocks, my fate was sealed.

Then I bethought me of my knife, which I had thrust into my belt.
Gripping it dagger-wise, I braced myself to overcome a sickening
sensation of fear, and plunged it to the hilt betwixt the eyes of
the hideous creature.

'Twas only to be likened to cutting a leather bag filled with
jelly--once the steel had ripped through the outer skin there seemed
no resistance to the blade; yet, though a quantity of watery blood,
mingled with a blackish froth, came from the wound, the octopus
apparently lost none of its vitality. Its rage, if I may so term it,
seemed to increase, for, quitting its hold on the rocks, it fastened
upon me with all its tentacles. I felt its snake-like embrace
encircle my legs, while two of its members seized my left arm.
Though I struck madly at its head to ward off the terrible,
beak-like mouth, my efforts seemed unavailing. The pain of the
hundreds of suckers was intense, and I felt my legs giving way under
the loathsome contraction of the creature's tentacles.

Suddenly the pressure seemed to relax, and redoubling my efforts, I
severed three of the arms with as many sweeps of my knife. Thus I
freed the upper part of my body; after that it was a comparatively
easy matter to cut off the other tentacles, though the remaining
parts still clung to my legs like a hundred leeches.

Shudderingly I made my way towards a portion of the reef that now
lay exposed, keeping a wary eye on the seaweed lest another octopus
should be lurking in the rocky crevices.

Having completely emerged from the water, I cut off the adhering
tentacles with my knife, for they would not become detached by other
means. Wherever the suckers had touched my flesh a small red wound
remained, so that my legs were one mass of livid spots, showing
vividly against the white skin, my prolonged stay in the water
having well-nigh stopped the flow of my blood.

I rubbed my limbs vigorously, and began to consider how I should
reach the shore, for the current had now ceased to ebb, as I could
tell by the absence of ripples over the submerged portion of the
shoal.

Fearing a similar encounter with an octopus, I hesitated to wade
over the seaweed-covered rocks, till, realizing that the longer I
waited the more exhausted I should become, and that I had traversed
a considerable distance ere I was attacked, I took heart, and walked
as rapidly as I could towards the landward edge of the shoal.

I noticed that from this part of the reef the blackened wreck of the
pirate vessel was immediately in line with the south-eastern end of
the island, so that by taking advantage of the flood stream I should
be carried on to the ledge of rocks that extended betwixt the shore
and the wreck, whence up to half tide I could walk ashore.

But just as I was about to commit myself to the waves, I saw a
black, triangular object cutting through the water between me and
the higher portion of the shoal I had just left. It was the fin of a
shark!

This ravenous monster had evidently got out of its bearings, for,
though shark's often frequent shoal water in search of their prey,
in this case there was barely sufficient depth for it to swim in.

Nevertheless, the shark had seen me, and was making straight for the
place where I stood. There was no help for it but to retrace my
steps to the now fast disappearing rocks, where I would have to make
a desperate stand until there was enough water for the brute to come
to close quarters. And then--I shuddered at the thought of it.

I managed to evade the monster, for it floundered heavily in the
shallows, lashing out with its tail, the noise of the blows sounding
like the report of a musket.

The water was now up to my ankles on the highest part of the reef.
Often would I imagine that my foot touched the slimy tentacles of an
octopus, as the now increasing current caused the long tendrils of
seaweed to sweep against my legs; while many crabs of small size
would dart swiftly in a sidelong motion over my toes.

All the while the shark, having found a pool of deeper water, was
swimming lazily to and fro, turning occasionally on its back. I
could then see its small, evil-looking eyes, as it marked its
anticipated prey.

In vain I sought for some stones to hurl at the monster--the face of
the rock beneath the kelp was firm and solid.

Although the sun's rays had long since dried my scanty clothing, I
shivered with numbness, aye, and with fear. Bitterly did I regret my
rashness in descending to that fatal ledge without my companion, yet
vain were my regrets.

More than once I resolved to cast myself into the sea and, knife in
hand, to do battle with the ferocious monster that awaited me.
'Twould be victory or death, and even in the latter case it would
the sooner end my prolonged torments. Yet, as I looked at the
glistening white monster, with its huge mouth armed with serrated
rows of sharp teeth, I could not force myself to take the desperate
step.

"Ahoy!"

Surely my ears deceived me, or did I hear the faint sound of a hail?
Looking round I saw, to my inexpressible joy and relief, a boat
making towards the shoal. It was the same craft that I had seen
taking soundings in the channel that morning.

Under the powerful strokes of the rowers the boat dashed to my
rescue, the foam hissing at her bows as her sharp stem cleft the
water.

Then everything began to grow dim; I heard the report of a musket,
and was barely conscious of the shark quivering on the surface of
the water, with shattered jaws. Strong arms bore me to the boat, and
directly I felt myself placed on the bottom boards a white mist swam
before my eyes, and I lost consciousness.

       *       *       *       *       *

When I came to myself I was lying on my bunk in the cabin of the
_Golden Hope_. Captain Jeremy, his head swathed in bandages, was
sitting an a chair, with a chart spread out on the table in front of
him. This surprised me not a little, for when I had last seen him he
was lying weak and helpless.

I tried to raise myself on my elbow, but the task was beyond my
power. Seeing this, Captain Jeremy got up and, coming over to my
bed, gave me something to drink.

"That's better," he exclaimed encouragingly. "Now try to rest
awhile."

"But, sir," said I, so feebly that I could scarce realize 'twas my
own voice, "how do I come to be here? Ah! I remember," and I
shuddered at the thought of my harrowing adventures.

"Not another word," he said imperatively, and as obediently as a
child I fell asleep.

A few days later I was able to sit up, and then I learnt that I had
been unconscious for sixteen days, while anxiety for my condition
had been largely responsible for Captain Jeremy's rapid recovery.

I knew the kindly Captain was burning with impatience to hear the
story of my misadventures, but he refrained from questioning me for
quite another week.

"Are you really sure you're not dreaming?" he asked, when, in the
course of my narrative, I related how I had found my captors to be
Ned Slater and the five other deserters.

"I would I had been," I replied. "Yet now I know, on the rogue's own
statement, that he it was who slew my father."

"If I had only given heed to your suspicions!" returned Captain
Jeremy grimly. "No matter, I'll lay them by the heels yet;" and at
the conclusion of my story, to which both he and Captain 'Enery
listened with the greatest interest, he expressed his intention of
going ashore and making a descent upon the villains' retreat.

This he accordingly did, but, though the cave was discovered and a
careful search made in and around the place, the rogues had
vanished. I had often wondered how they managed to climb up from the
mouth of the cavern to the top of the cliff. This Captain Jeremy
explained. In the tunnel the searchers came across the trunk of a
small tree which had apparently been thrust out a little way, so
that by standing on it a man could climb up the perpendicular face
of the precipice by means of a series of notches cut in the rock.
This done, he fastened a stout rope round a projecting ledge, so
that his companions could follow with ease. Beyond this the villains
had left no trace save, on careful examination, a dark stain that
was found on the dusty floor, thus bearing out my statement that I
had accounted for one of them at least.

I progressed slowly yet surely, and meanwhile Captain Jeremy
recovered his accustomed strength and health. At length, to the
unbounded satisfaction of all hands, it was announced that, all
preparations being completed, an expedition into the interior of the
island would be made early in the following week.




CHAPTER XXIV

More Trouble in Sight


Since the return of the master gunner and his party from their
successful chase of the buccaneers, the crew of the _Neptune_ had
been increased, though not up to full strength. It was Captain
Jeremy's intention to keep a large garrison in the stockade, under
Captain 'Enery, while the master gunner resumed his duties on board
the _Golden Hope_. Joe Clemens, by virtue of his having been mate on
a trading vessel, was appointed to the charge of the _Neptune_ till
such time as Captain 'Enery could resume his command.

This was, in a measure, somewhat tactless, for Clemens, not being
one of the original crew of the _Golden Hope_, was looked upon by
some of the men as an outsider who had risen over their heads.

But Joe Clemens, cheerful and easy-going Cornishman that he was,
treated this matter lightly, though he was fully aware of it. On
being told of the feeling amongst certain of the crew of the
_Neptune_, he merely remarked that they would soon get used to it,
and that he was quite big and strong enough to look after both
Captain Jeremy's interests and his own.

It happened, however, that one day, while Captain Jeremy, the master
gunner, and I were in the cabin, a seaman knocked softly and,
without waiting to be bidden to enter, came in and closed the door
behind him.

He was one of the original band of Lymington men, yet Captain
Jeremy, ever a strict disciplinarian, liked not the manner of his
entry.

"How now, Cherry?" he asked sternly. "Is this the way--bursting in
upon your officers without so much as 'by your leave'?"

"What I have to say must be said quietly, sir," replied the man
resolutely.

"Say on."

"There's underhand work aboard the _Neptune_, sir," continued the
man. "There's a dozen of 'em in touch with that rascal Slater."

Instinctively I recalled Slater's words: "Dost think I have no
friends aboard the ships?"

"How d'ye know this?" demanded Captain Jeremy coolly.

"I heard 'em talking in the fo'c'sle last night, while I was lying
down on the cathead for a spell. They'll try to seize the stuff when
we get it aboard."

"Will they?" said the Captain grimly. "And who may the rascals be?"

Cherry gave the names of about a dozen, all of whom had, like Slater
and his companions, joined the _Golden Hope_ from a Chatham brig.
"They mean to mutiny, lay hands on the treasure, and place it in the
sloop," he continued. "They can scarce hope to take the _Golden
Hope_."

Now, the sloop was a small, half-decked vessel, of about ten tons
burthen, one of the craft that Touchstone had found hard by the
place where he had ambushed the buccaneers. These boats had been
brought round while I had been ill, and now lay close inshore, and
almost abreast of the stockade.

"Why not send an armed force aboard the _Neptune_ and secure them?"
asked Touchstone. "They'll lie safely in the bilboes, even if we do
not run them up to the yard-arm."

"Nay, I'll play with them awhile," said Captain Jeremy. "Yet I'll
take no risks in the matter. For aught I care, they are right
welcome to the sloop. And now, Cherry, I thank you for your warning,
and rest assured that I'll not forget to recompense you for it."

The sailor withdrew, and long and anxiously the two officers
conferred as to their plan of action.

"'Twill be one way out of the difficulty," concluded Captain Jeremy,
slapping his thigh as he was wont to do when in high good humour.
"Sink me! we'll begin our preparations to-morrow."

Accordingly, soon after breakfast on the morrow he was rowed aboard
the _Neptune_, and having assembled the crew, true men and false
alike, he addressed them.

"My lads," said he, "in the course of a few days I hope to have the
long-sought-for treasure in our possession. Now, since no one can
deny that I am a just man, I'll speak plainly on what I propose to
do. Those of you who left England in the Golden Hope will receive a
share in the _Madre_ treasure, while all hands are entitled to the
spoils we recovered from the wreck of the pirate ship. Now, to
prevent mistakes, I propose to separate the two; and since the
_Neptune_ is of the lighter build, and sails a full knot faster than
the _Golden Hope_, I'll stow the whole of the _Madre_ treasure in
the hold of the _Neptune_. Thus, should we be attacked while
homeward bound, the _Golden Hope_ can ward off our foes while the
_Neptune_ shows a clean pair of heels. Then, should Providence guide
us safely into port, a fair and just distribution will be made ere
we warp alongside Poole Quay."

Three cheers greeted this announcement, though I felt certain that
there were a dozen rogues at least who were laughing in their
sleeves at Captain Jeremy for being a fool.

Ere noon arrived the whole of the treasure that we had recovered
from the buccaneering craft was safely stowed away in the strong
room of the _Golden Hope_; while, acting under instructions, Joe
Clemens and several of the proved members of the _Neptune's_ crew
removed their personal effects to the parent ship.

Meanwhile, the men who garrisoned the stockade had not been idle.
They had thoroughly explored the cliff path that led to the now
deserted buccaneering settlement, and also the road that traversed
the island from north to south, the same one that we had struck on
our first expedition into the interior. The cliff route was found to
be far more practicable than the direct one through the forest,
though 'twas considerably longer.

Captain 'Enery had constructed several large wheelbarrows so that,
with the assistance of a couple of men pulling ahead, the treasure
could be conveyed to the shore with comparative ease; and Captain
Jeremy gave orders for several large boxes, or chests, to be made of
strong wood, each numbered on the lid. These boxes, he announced,
would hold the treasure safely during the passage home, till the
time came for it to be duly apportioned.

While this was being done Captain Jeremy sent a party of six trusty
men to proceed along the east coast of the island in a southerly
direction till they came to a clump of three small palm trees
standing far apart from the rest of the vegetation and close to the
water's edge. These the men were to cut down, move a hundred yards
in a southerly direction, and set up again as well as they were
able. The seamen did this faithfully and well, whereat Captain
Jeremy again slapped his thigh in evident satisfaction.

That the rascals on board the _Neptune_ were in constant
communication with Slater and his fellows we had no doubt, for twice
we perceived two men swimming off to the ship by night. Yet all this
Captain Jeremy purposely winked at, being of a mind to let the
villains work their own destruction.

On the morning of the day before we purposed to set out to secure
the treasure, two of the rascals rowed alongside the Golden Hole and
asked permission to water their ship, as the tanks were well-nigh
empty. To this request Captain Jeremy readily gave permission, and
by the ill-concealed grin on the faces of the rogues when they heard
him agree, I knew that they were setting in a store to last them on
a voyage.

Every preparation having been completed, our Captain recalled 'Enery
to take charge of the _Golden Hope_ during his absence, while
Touchstone was again to be in command of the stockade.

"There's mischief brewing," said he to Captain 'Enery. "But, mark my
words, they'll lie quiet enough till the treasure is safely aboard
the _Neptune_. Nevertheless, I know I can rely upon you to take
every precaution to safeguard the ship; but do nothing to arouse
suspicion. Let the men have shore leave if they ask for it; do
nothing beyond the daily routine, for should those rascals smell a
rat, all our preparations would count for naught."

At daybreak the force picked out for the expedition paraded outside
the stockade. There were forty-five all told, composed of fifteen of
the original crew of the _Golden Hope_ on whom we could thoroughly
rely and thirty of the peasants whom we had rescued from the
_Neptune_.

All were armed with muskets and cutlasses, while in the barrows were
piled hatchets, spades, and mattocks, together with a goodly supply
of provisions.

Amid the cheers of those who were left behind, for all, whether true
or false, wished us success, the expedition set out, Captain Jeremy
and I walking at the head of the column.

Unless untoward events prevented it, another thirty-six hours would
see the treasure of the _Madre de Dios_ within our grasp.




CHAPTER XXV

We Arrive at the Hiding-place of the Treasure


Having gained the crest of the hill that terminated in the headland
where I had met with my adventures in the cave, we descended by a
gradually sloping path that followed closely to the coast. On our
left the ground rose in uneven terraces, covered with thick,
tropical vegetation; while on the right I could see the shoals
whither I had been carried by the ebb tide.

At a distance of about six miles from the stockade we reached the
north-eastern extremity of the island, where, owing to the hilly
nature of the ground, we had to follow a course that resembled three
sides of a square. Thence, proceeding due west, and still following
the coast line, we arrived at the place where the master gunner had
successfully ambushed the retreating buccaneers.

Here we found the termination of a well-defined path that had been
made by the rascally pirates during their occupation of the island.
This path, we now knew, made a junction with another track from the
buccaneers' settlement, and, proceeding in an almost southerly
direction, led to a small cove on the south side of the island.

The character of the scenery changed at this place, for the path
plunged into a defile, the side of which showed traces of volcanic
agency. Yet, though it was uphill for nearly four miles, the
gradients of the road offered no great difficulty.

We harnessed four men to the traces of the wheelbarrows, but our
rate of progress was so slow that 'twas close on sunset ere we
arrived at the clearing where the path through the forest cut across
the path we were pursuing. Here Captain Jeremy decided to pitch a
camp, so as to be fresh for the next day's work.

Accordingly, the men cut down bushes to form a shelter from the
night dews, and a huge bonfire was lighted, for the air during the
hours of darkness was decidedly cool. Then, after we had partaken
of supper, we turned in and slept, save those who were set on guard.

The night passed without interruption, as Captain Jeremy had
expected, since, even had Slater and his villainous crew been
anywhere near, 'tis unlikely that they would have made any attempt
to molest us ere we had found the treasure.

"My lads," exclaimed Captain Jeremy, as we prepared to resume our
march, the barrows being left in reserve at the place where we had
camped, "for the next two miles we will have to cut our way, taking
our direction by the compass. Now, lest you think that our first
attempt was an utter failure, let me say that I took that
opportunity of verifying my bearings, having made allowance for the
difference and variation 'twixt the present time and when last I
made the journey to where the treasure lies. If in six miles I have
hit my former track, shall we miss in two miles more? I think not;
so take heart, men, and may success reward our efforts!"

Having carefully indicated the required direction by placing two
stakes in a line with the magnetic bearing, Captain Jeremy gave the
word for the men to proceed, and, wielding their hatchets with a
will, they began to cut the path that was to extend two miles in a
straight line; for the track cut by Captain Jeremy years ago was now
almost totally obliterated, though we had found traces of it in the
swamps.

The ground, hitherto swampy in the direct route 'twixt us and the
stockade (for which reason we had made a wide detour), now became
firm, standing high and continually rising towards the dip in the
saddle-shaped hill that we had seen on our first approach to the
island.

The men, working in relays, were instructed to hew a path wide
enough for two people to walk abreast, and, keeping in a straight
line with the portion they had already cut, our rate of progression
was about a furlong an hour.

For two hours not a sound was heard save the dull swish of the axes
as they sheared through the sap-laden canes and brushwood.

Suddenly one of the men gave an exclamation of surprise, and,
dropping his axe, seized on a strange object and with a heave
wrenched it from the ground. It was an arquebus, apparently of
sixteenth-century workmanship, its barrel nearly rusted through, and
its stock so worm-eaten that it crumbled in his grasp.

This was the first token we had seen which related to our quest, and
with renewed efforts our men again attacked the impeding mass of
vegetation.

When at length the path had been constructed to a distance of about
two miles, our hopes and fears increased. How could the exact spot
be fixed in that wilderness? Had Captain Jeremy some particular
clue, the result of which he kept locked in his breast till the
fateful moment? A glance at our leader's resolute face was
sufficient. He, at all events, was satisfied with the progress made.

"A man with a mattock!" he exclaimed; and as a seaman ran forward
with the required article, he gave the order, "Dig here".

A few heavy strokes, and the implement struck a blackish stratum of
soil. Picking up a handful, Captain Jeremy sniffed at it; but even
where I was standing I recognized the odour. It smelt of pitch.

"We are hard on the place," the Captain exclaimed; "another twenty
yards, lads!"

At length, with an exclamation of triumph, one of the men pushed
aside the reeds, and disclosed a scene the like of which I had never
seen before. For a space of nearly a hundred yards across, the
ground was destitute of verdure, being composed of a bituminous
soil. On all sides, save the one by which we had approached, were
lofty black rocks, grotesquely shaped as if carved by the hand of
man; while facing us was a pinnacle that resembled a human face in
profile, about thirty feet in height. A more repulsive caricature
could not be imagined. The thick, protruding upper lip, the
overhanging eyebrows, and the diabolical grin--'twas the very image
in stone of the villainous Ned Slater.

"Where--where?" exclaimed Captain Jeremy, gripping his pistols, for
I had unconsciously uttered the miscreant's name.

"Nay," I replied, "not Ned Slater in the flesh, but his features
carved in stone. Look at yon rock!"

"Sink me!" muttered the astonished Captain. "Oft have I seen this
rock, but never till now have I noticed this resemblance, yet 'tis
passing strange."

"Is this the work of man?" I asked of him, as the seamen crowded
into the open space and gazed amazedly at the hideous shape.

"'Tis hard to believe it is the hand of Nature," replied Captain
Jeremy. "I have seen the like in the temples of the ancient
Mexicans, save that here are no traces of the sculptor's tools. I
believe 'tis a strange freak of fire, for all around can be seen
distinct evidences of volcanic action. This floor is formed of dried
pitch, of a like nature to the lake of pitch in the Isle of
Trinidad. But we are not here for the purpose of debating upon the
origin of these rocks."

So saying, he strode forward across the open space, and we followed
in a body, our boots ringing on the hard surface 'neath our feet.
Then I saw that the image of the man's head was on one side of the
rock only; on the other the outlines were roughly continued in
horizontal lines along the face of a cliff, till the continuity was
broken by a projecting rock that resembled the gargoyles one sees on
the towers of cathedrals and churches in England.

Having stopped at the spot where the chin of the human-like profile
touched the ground, Captain Jeremy measured off seven paces along
the base of the cliff. Here, as far as one could judge, the rock
presented an unbroken wall, so our amazement was unbounded when the
seamen were ordered to attack the cliff with their mattocks.

Almost at the first blow there was a sudden fall of stones, and when
the dust had cleared away a dark, yawning cavity was disclosed,
while 'twas now evident that a wall had been built up and carefully
concealed with a kind of dark plaster, so that it resembled the rest
of the rock.

"Steady, men!" warned the Captain, as several of the seamen prepared
to scramble over the rubbish into the sombre cavity, "the air may be
poisonous."

Directing a number of the men to cut down some pine saplings, so as
to make torches, Captain Jeremy called for flint and steel.

"Be careful of the tow," he cautioned. "A chance spark in this
pitch-steeped place might be the death of all of us. Once within the
cave, there will be no further danger from fire. Stand by, some of
you, with a barrico, and douche every spark that falls."

One of the improvised torches was quickly in a blaze, and,
describing a graceful curve as it was hurled into the cavern, it
struck the floor, sending out a shower of sparks on the impact.

For a full minute the flame burnt steadily. The air was free from
noxious gases.

"Five men will be sufficient at first," exclaimed Captain Jeremy.
"You, too, Master Clifford. Follow me."

And stepping over the dislodged rubble, he entered the cave.




CHAPTER XXVI

Untold Wealth


By the glare of the smoking torches I saw that we were in a vast
cavern, the walls of which were smooth and fairly regular on both
sides, although the extent of the place was hidden by a darkness
which the flaring lights failed to penetrate. In the distance I
heard the splashing of a torrent of water, but as the floor of the
cave was covered to a depth of about six inches with dry dust, the
stream must have found an outlet at a lower level.

Led by Captain Jeremy, who strode along rapidly, with the confidence
of a man who was well acquainted with the place, we traversed some
fifty yards of gradually shelving floor, till the torchlight
flickered on several ghastly objects that were lying about in
various positions. There were rusty steel morions, breast-plates,
and buff leather coats, each complete suit containing a grisly
skeleton; while scattered around were arquebuses, muskets, pikes,
swords, and pistols.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed one of our men in an awestruck tone.
"Starved to death!"

"Nay," replied Captain Jeremy, "they fought among themselves. These
were the survivors of the wreck of the _Madre de Dios_. Consumed
with the lust for gold, they exterminated each other, or, at least,
if any escaped the combat they never left the island."

A few steps farther, and we beheld a pile of casks standing breast
high. Plunging his hand into the nearest, Captain Jeremy drew out a
brick-shaped object, and, knocking it against the side of the cask
to remove a thick deposit of dust, revealed a piece of dull-coloured
metal. It was gold!

Regardless of their gruesome surroundings, the men burst into a
continuous roar of cheering, and like delighted children flung
themselves upon the casks.

Vessels, plate, bars of gold, and coins were disclosed to our view,
till the floor was littered with dull red metal, mingled with
tarnished silver.

'Twas the much-sought-for treasure of the _Madre de Dios_.

"Pass the word for more torches," exclaimed Captain Jeremy, who
alone seemed unmoved by this vast display of wealth, "and bid the
men bring with them the canvas sacks. Hasten, for we must needs get
clear of this place ere night." When at length some semblance of
order was restored, the work of loading the treasure was begun and
carried on till, staggering under the weight of seventeen heavy
sacks, the seamen gained the open air.

"Shall we do anything with these, sir?" asked one of the men,
pointing to the skeletons of the ill-fated members of the crew of
the _Madre_.

"Nay; they have guarded the treasure so far, let them sleep on in
peace," replied Captain Jeremy softly, as, stooping down, he picked
up a rapier of exquisite workmanship.

I did likewise, wondering at the contrast betwixt the bright steel
blades and the rusty armour.

"Their mail was tarnished by exposure ere they died," replied
Captain Jeremy, in answer to my question. "The air is so dry within
the cave that rust is almost impossible. Were it not for the
treasure having been submerged in the sea, we would have been
well-nigh blinded by its glister."

Meanwhile the seamen were busily employed in cutting stout poles of
about six feet in length. Over these the sacks were slung, each pole
resting on the shoulders of two men.

Captain Miles gave the order to march, and within a couple of hours
from the time of our arrival the whole of the _Madre_ treasure was
on its way to the ship.

Yet, so heavy were the burdens and so difficult the path, it was
nearly sunset ere we reached the place where we had camped the
previous night.

Here we found the barrows quite undisturbed, so with feelings of
relief the elated men prepared to spend another night in the open.

The treasure was stacked in the centre of a ring of sleeping men,
while double guards were set, Captain Jeremy himself keeping watch
throughout the long night. Hunger and sleeplessness seemed strangers
to him, yet it was anxiety, not highness of spirits, that kept him
awake.

"Are you not glad that the treasure is found, sir?" I asked.

"Glad, aye, that I am; but I'll not feel satisfied till I have the
stuff safe and sound in Poole Harbour. Mark my words, the most
anxious time is yet to come."

Shortly after midnight the camp was aroused by a musket shot, and
all hands, standing to their arms, prepared to resist an attack,
though by whom we knew not. But it turned out to be a false alarm,
for one of the seamen, being overexcited with the events of the day,
had unwittingly fingered the trigger of his piece.

Nevertheless, few of us had much sleep that night, and with the
first sight of dawn the march was resumed.

The greater part of the path now being downhill, we made far more
rapid progress than on the outward journey, in spite of the load of
treasure; and late in the afternoon we reached the brow of the hill
overlooking the harbour where the _Golden Hope_ and her consort lay.

Captain Jeremy thereupon ordered three musket shots to be fired in
the air--the pre-arranged signal of success. Instantly a crowd of
men issued from the stockade, and with shouts and much waving of
arms rushed to meet us. The ships, too, hoisted their colours to the
mastheads, while the _Golden Hope_ fired seven guns by way of a
salute.

Willing hands seized the heavily laden barrows, and with a rush they
were run down the hill, across the flat plain, and into the
stockade, while Captain 'Enery and our leader exchanged
congratulations and eager questions.

"Any news?" asked Captain Jeremy anxiously.

"None; all is quiet on both vessels."

Having entered the stockade, Captain Jeremy immediately gave orders
for the spoil to be carried into the storehouse, and, having picked
out four tried men, he set them, under the superintendence of
Captain 'Enery, to load up the stout chests that had previously been
prepared.

"Men," he exclaimed to the rest of the crews, "the treasure is, as
you know, found." Here the bursts of cheering interrupted further
speech for a space of nearly two minutes, but when order was at
length restored Captain Jeremy continued: "Ere night I hope to have
the whole of these chests safely aboard the _Neptune_. It will mean
much labour, but I know you'll work with a will. This done, I want
all hands, save a sufficient guard on both brigs, to repair to the
stockade, and we'll have a right good carouse on the strength of our
success. There are several casks of spirits aboard the _Golden
Hope_, and sink me if I be niggardly in this matter."

Renewed cheering greeted this announcement, though, knowing that
Captain Jeremy was not a man to encourage a carouse, I wondered at
his action, especially at such a time, when there was danger from a
known mutinous party in our midst.

"Number one ready, sir," announced one of the men from the door of
the storehouse.

[Illustration: THE TREASURE OF THE "MADRE DE DIOS"]

"Then out with it," replied the Captain, and as the bulky chest
appeared, carefully nailed and corded, it was seized upon by a gang
of lusty seamen and conveyed to the water's edge, where a boat was
lying in readiness to take it to the _Neptune_. Seven others
followed before Captain 'Enery and the men, all looking warm with
their exertions, emerged from the storehouse, and the door was
carefully locked.

"Now to set the watches on board both vessels," said Captain Jeremy;
then in an aside to Captain 'Enery, though loud enough for me to
hear, "Are our men ashore? Good! Now to settle with the rogues."

"Master Hammond, will you go and warn the crews of both vessels to
muster ashore to-night? The exceptions are named on this list," he
continued, slipping a paper into my hands. "They are to remain on
board and keep a careful watch. Warn them on the _Neptune_ of the
precious nature of their trust."

I made my way to the shore, where a boat conveyed me to the _Golden
Hope_. Then, having delivered Captain Jeremy's orders and detailed
the watch party, I proceeded aboard the _Neptune_.

Here I was met at the gangway by Tompkins, the quartermaster, whom
we knew to be one of the malcontents.

"Master Clemens is sick, sir," he reported, "and desires permission
to be taken ashore."

"Let him go, by all means," I replied. "What's amiss?"

"I know not," answered the man, "though it seems of the nature of an
ague."

Having had the crew mustered, I repeated Captain Jeremy's orders,
and proceeded to read the names of the men who were to remain. There
were sixteen of the latter, being five more than the watch on board
the _Golden Hope_, and as I called the names their bearers replied,
"Here, sir."

"Gadd--Jonathan Gadd?"

No answer.

"Jonathan Gadd," I repeated; "where is he?"

No one seemed to know.

"Beck, William?"

He, too, was absent, cause unknown.

So were two others, Wood and Hoit; it could only be by design, for
there were only the malcontents of the crew remaining on board the
_Neptune_. And under the charge of these rascals were the eight
treasure chests.




CHAPTER XXVII

The Mutiny of the _Neptune_


Having carried out my instructions, I directed the boat's crew to
row back to the shore, and having secured the little craft and
removed her oars, the men followed me to the stockade.

It was now night, but the open space within the palisade was lit by
the glare of a huge fire. Seated around on upturned casks, or
sprawling on the ground, were as many of the crews of both brigs as
could be spared, besides the garrison of the stockade; and, to my
surprise, I recognized Joe Clemens, who had been sent ashore,
presumably ill with the ague, and also the four men who ought,
according to the list of names, to have been keeping watch on board
the _Neptune_.

Having reported myself to Captain Jeremy, I walked over to where
Clemens was seated, and asked him how he felt.

"Never better in my life, Master Hammond," was his astonishing
reply; from which, coupled with the fact that the other absentees
from the _Neptune_ were not ashamed to be seen away from their
posts, I concluded that 'twas all part and parcel of Captain
Jeremy's plans.

The casks of spirits had been broached, and with rousing song the
men, to use Captain 'Enery's expression, "let themselves go". The
firelight gleamed on their bronzed, hearty features, and cast
fantastic shadows upon the encircling wooden fence, where, like
ghostly shapes against the dark sky, stood the sentinels who had
been posted to keep watch while their comrades feasted and caroused.
The air was thick with the reek of burning logs and the odour of
strong waters.

Yet, in contrast to the general festivity, Captain Jeremy and his
officers maintained the strictest abstinence, though they applauded
with the rest as a ballad went well, or joined in a volley of chaff
when a seaman broke down in a partly forgotten song.

Frequently the Captain would slip quietly away and mount the
parapet, whence he would gaze steadfastly across the harbour to
where the anchor lamps of the two ships glimmered like stars on the
point of setting.

It was well after midnight ere the fire had burnt itself low, and
the glowing embers played on the faces of men who were too tired
even to join in a chorus.

"My lads," exclaimed Captain Jeremy, "'tis too late to return on
board. Make yourselves as comfortable as you can here, and report
yourselves to me to-morrow at eight bells."

"Three cheers for Captain Miles!" shouted a hoarse voice, and the
men, having expended their last remaining energy in paying this
tribute to their popular chief, trooped off to rest in the
barrack-like shelters that had been erected for the comfort of the
little garrison.

When all was quiet, Captain Jeremy, 'Enery, Silas Touchstone, and I
walked down to the beach, followed by the boat's crew, and were
rowed off to the _Golden Hope_.

"Turn in now, Master Clifford," said Captain Jeremy, as we gained
the deck; "you must be tired out with the day's excitement and the
night's revelry."

He had donned his thick peajacket, so I knew that, though he had not
slumbered on the previous night, he meant to keep on deck. Something
was in the wind.

Tired as I was, I could not sleep. For hours I lay awake, listening
to the dull roar of the breakers on the reef and the periodical
notes of the ship's bell, which, with faithful precision, were
repeated on board the _Neptune_; while, borne on the soft air, as
the land breeze blew across the bay, I could distinguish the "All's
well" of the men on guard at the stockade.

Overhead I could hear a measured tramp, as the two captains paced
the deck, for they had left the quarter-deck and were patrolling the
poop, talking in earnest tones, though their words were inaudible.

Six bells! Would sleep never come? I sprang out of my bunk, and
walking over to one of the open stern ports, I leant out.

Grey dawn was beginning to glimmer in the east, and with it came the
moaning of a rising wind. Barely distinguishable against the pale
night mists, I could see the outlines of the _Neptune_. Did my eyes
deceive me? Her sails had been shaken loose and were being sheeted
home.

The footsteps overhead were still. The captains had ceased their
monotonous walk. Had they, too, noticed the mysterious and
unauthorized manoeuvre?

Even as I watched I heard the splash of the cut cable, and, listing
over to the now stiff breeze, the _Neptune_ began to forge ahead.

I waited no longer; but rushed on deck, and gained the poop just as
Captain Jeremy hailed, in a voice like the bellowing of a bull:

"What are ye up to, ye rascals? Heave-to, I say, or I'll sink you!"

Still the _Neptune_ came on, moving with increasing pace as she drew
farther from the lee of the land.

"Below there," shouted the master gunner, "stand to your guns!"

The newly awakened members of our scanty crew passed through the
fore hatchway in all states of clothing. They needed no second
bidding, but, rushing to the guns, began to load.

Suddenly one of the gunlayers gave an exclamation of angry surprise.

"Spiked!" he shouted, with an oath.

"Same here," announced another, and a hasty examination revealed the
unpleasant fact that every gun on the starboard side had an iron
nail wedged into the touch-hole and broken off short.

Silas Touchstone disappeared, only to return with a box of
armourer's tools. If anything was to be done it must be done
speedily, for the _Neptune_ was now close to our quarter.

"Oh, for a single gun!" exclaimed Captain 'Enery. "We could wing her
now."

Then, to my unspeakable dismay, I saw, gripping the weather-poop
rail of the _Neptune_, the figure of my enemy, Ned Slater. He had
proved his words concerning his friends on the ship by taking
possession of her, thanks to the aid of the mutineers.

The light was now sufficiently strong to distinguish the hideous
leer of insolent triumph on his features..

"Farewell, Captain Miles!" he shouted. "A thousand thanks for having
handed over the _Madre_ treasure, to say nothing of having provided
the means to find the way out," and with an ostentatious flourish he
displayed the well-known chart.

"May you be much beholden to it, you villain!" returned Captain
Jeremy, and, laying hold of a musket, he fired at the double-dyed
rogue.

Now, in all my experience I had never known Captain Jeremy to miss
his mark at that comparatively short distance, and I fully expected
to see the murderous thief fall dead on the deck. But the bullet
went wide, so wide indeed that Slater never so much as ducked his
head, which he would assuredly have done had it 'scaped him
narrowly.

"Try again, Cap'n," came the taunting cry.

"I'll be even with you yet," shouted Captain Jeremy, as he proceeded
to reload his piece.

Meanwhile our men worked their hardest to run one of the larboard
guns over to the other side, but owing to the shortage of hands and
the encumbered state of our decks 'twas evident that the _Neptune_
would be well out of range ere a single gun was in position to open
fire.

Having passed well ahead of us, the disloyal brig smartly
starboarded her helm and stood out for the open sea, followed by a
desultory cannonade from the stockade, which, however, did little or
no harm, though it proved that the men were fairly alert, in spite
of their overnight carouse.

"She's off, right enough," exclaimed one of the men.

"And the treasure with her!" shouted another, in a paroxysm of rage.
"Where's my share now? All lost! All lost!"

"Peace, you fool!" said Captain Jeremy sternly.

"If you have lost your share, have I not lost far more? Wait and
see."




CHAPTER XXVIII

The Fate of the Mutineers


Presently most of the men who had been left in the stockade, having
taken to the boats and the little sloop, came on board. Fury,
disappointment, and despair were written on their faces as they
gathered in the waist awaiting the orders that were not forthcoming.

"Aren't you going to weigh and chase 'em, Cap'n?" shouted one, with
more zeal than discretion.

"Send away the long-boat, and we'll soon overhaul them," suggested
another.

"With this sea running?" replied Captain Jeremy at length. "You
would never make head way. Trust me and wait."

The crew could scarce believe their ears. Was the Captain overcome
by the strain of the last few days? His pensive attitude seemed
incomprehensible.

Yet Captain Jeremy was outwardly cool and collected as, glass in
hand, he followed the course of the disappearing _Neptune_.

She was now on the bar, tossing, pitching, and rolling in the heavy
breakers, for already the sea outside was running high and breaking
over the shoals in one continuous field of snow-flecked foam. Yet
the errant brig held slowly and truly on her course 'twixt the
shallows that threatened her at half a cable's length to starboard
and larboard.

She stood out close hauled on the larboard tack, the wind being due
north, till she reached the bend in the channel that ran parallel
with the shore. Here, being smartly handled, she turned and ran dead
before the wind, her hull being lost to view from our decks by the
intervening reef.

Instantly there was a scramble aloft, Captain Jeremy and I, with
nearly a dozen men, gaining the main top, while the shrouds were
alive with the discomfited crew as they watched from their lofty
point of vantage the rapidly receding brig.

I glanced at Captain Jeremy. In spite of his coolness, I fancy his
anxiety increased as the _Neptune_ ran before the wind.

"Sink me," I heard him mutter, "she's hauling to the wind!"

This was indeed the case, but even as she did so she struck the
fatal reef. The next instant she broached to, the rollers making
clean breaches over her hull, and almost immediately her masts went
by the board.

Then I understood, though imperfectly. Captain Jeremy, by altering
the position of the clump of trees, had created a false landmark,
and the _Neptune_ had fallen into the trap.

"There's an end to the treasure, anyway," exclaimed one of the men.
"There won't be as much as a plank or a copper nail left ere night."

Having witnessed the destruction of the mutineers, Captain Jeremy
descended to the deck and ordered the bos'n to pipe all hands. Then,
mounting the poop, he faced the dejected men.

"My lads," he exclaimed in ringing tones, "I'll deceive you no
longer. There is no need for discontent or vain regrets, for not one
pennyworth of treasure is aboard yon craft. The whole of it is now
lying in the storehouse on shore!"

For a full twenty seconds there was a lull or absolute silence; the
men seemed unable to grasp the full significance of the words. Then,
as the meaning dawned upon them, a roar of cheering burst from a
hundred throats.

"If you pause to consider," continued the Captain, "you will see
that I acted for the best, even though I had to practise a mild
deceit on most of you. Knowing that the rogues on the _Neptune_ were
in league with that villain Slater, I purposely caused the treasure
chests, filled with stones, to be conveyed on board their craft. You
will remember that at no time did I say the treasure was in those
chests, but the rascals jumped at the bait. By so doing they have
served a double purpose: we shall be troubled by them no more, and
the loss of the _Neptune_ has relieved me of a great load of
anxiety. How say you? What would they at home say if they saw me
bringing back two ships, when I set sail with one only? I also see a
way whereby those of you who were shipped as slaves aboard the
_Neptune_ can return to your homes, or, if you will it, be set
ashore at any port we touch, with your full share of the spoil of
the captured buccaneer."

"I have also another proposal to make. By their mutinous conduct
those aboard the _Neptune_ would have forfeited their share in the
_Madre_ treasure had they lived, so that the amount to be
distributed amongst the remaining members of the original crew of
the _Golden Hope_ is considerably increased. Now, I am going to set
aside the amount of those forfeited shares and divide it amongst
you, irrespective of rank, or whether ye be the men who left Poole
in the _Golden Hope_ or those who joined us off the _Neptune_; for
'twas by the hearty efforts of all hands here that we were enabled
to lay hands on the treasure. Now, lads, I thank you one and all. It
only remains to load up our precious cargo, get the ship ready for
sea, and yo-ho! for old England."

When the applause that greeted the termination of Captain Jeremy's
speech had subsided, a number of men, headed by Tom Cherry, elbowed
their way through the dense crowd of their delighted comrades.

"Cap'n," exclaimed Cherry, "I've a favour to ask you."

"Say on," replied Captain Jeremy.

"Me and my mates here," said the sturdy seaman, "want to take the
long-boat and row out to yon wreck. Maybe some of the poor chaps are
still aboard."

"Nay," answered the Captain, a flush of anger overspreading his
bronzed features. "They are but mutinous dogs; let them perish."

"They were our comrades, an', though it shames me to say it, my
brother's son is with them," Cherry said doggedly. "If we pick 'em
up we can send 'em off in the sloop, and they won't harm us any
more."

"A boat would never live in such a sea," observed Captain Jeremy,
with a sweep of his arm in the direction of the bar, where the
breakers were tumbling in white, confused masses, for it was now
blowing hard outside. Yet our Captain was certainly turning aside
from his hard purpose.

"We are willing to take the risk, sir," pleaded the seaman
earnestly. "I've not been brought up on the coast of Kent for
nothing."

"Then go. But, mind you, one condition I make. Should you bring that
murderous villain Ned Slater back alive, I'll run him up to the
yardarm."

Tom Cherry touched his forelock and turned away, followed by his
eight comrades. The long-boat was already alongside; so, tossing a
mast and sail, an empty beaker, and a coil of grass rope into her,
the dauntless men dropped over the side of the _Golden Hope_ and
pushed off.

"You are quite certain of the channel, I hope, Cherry?" shouted
Captain Jeremy.

"Yes, sir; and besides, there's enough water over the shoals for
us."

"Not with this tumble outside; so be careful, and keep to the
smoothest water."

"More food for the sharks," I heard a seaman say, as he watched the
boat gather way.

Hoisting a mere rag of sail, the daring rescuers headed for the
open, the boat speeding under the pressure of the howling wind,
while Tom Cherry steered her adroitly to meet each threatening
comber. At one moment we could see nearly the whole of the boat's
bottom boards, as she climbed an immense wall of water; at another,
only her long, lean quarters and stern, as she slid down the far
side of the safely passed crest.

Once more we manned the rigging, and with eager eyes and
apprehensive looks followed the hazardous fortunes of our humane
comrades as they turned and ran down before the wind towards the
wreck.

From my swaying perch on the main top--for even in this usually
sheltered harbour a heavy "gush" caused the _Golden Hope_ to roll
sluggishly--I had great difficulty in keeping the boat within the
field of my telescope. The men had now stowed sail, and under oars
were backing slowly towards the shattered _Neptune_, the figure of
Tom Cherry being clearly distinguishable as he stood, steering oar
in hand, keeping the boat's stern to the towering crests.

By this time the after part of the _Neptune_ had completely
disappeared, and the waist was fast breaking up under the relentless
blows of the resistless breakers; yet through the cloud of spray
that dashed over the fo'c'sle I could see the forms of some half a
dozen helpless creatures hanging on to the frail protection afforded
by the weather rail.

The men in the long-boat were now rowing their hardest to keep to
windward of the wreck. They were evidently paying out the beaker by
the grass warp in the hope of establishing a communication 'twixt
the two craft. It was a life-or-death struggle with the
elements--English courage and brawn pitted against the combined
action of wind and sea. Which would win?

Suddenly a heavy rain squall came on, bearing down the crested waves
with its weight, and obliterating everything within a quarter of a
mile of us.

When the squall passed, a groan of dismay burst from our lips. As
far as the eye could see, there was nothing but a chaos of angry sea
and sky. Both the wreck and the gallant long-boat had vanished.




CHAPTER XXIX

Homeward Bound


For the rest of that fateful day the greatest despondency prevailed
amongst our crew. The fate of their devoted comrades, whose lives
had been thrown away in a useless attempt to save a worthless lot of
mutineers, weighed heavily on their minds. Even the thought of the
treasure being safe in our possession hardly asserted itself.

But with the morning there came a change. The storm, short and
fierce, had blown itself out, and once more the tropical sun poured
its scorching rays upon the gently heaving waters. Not only had the
_Neptune_ disappeared from view, but the gale had swept away the few
remaining fragments of the pirate ship _Black Arrow_, so that
another link with the adventurous past had been severed.

Seamen, from their constant exposure and peril, are ever ready to
rise above their misfortunes, though these are not easily forgotten;
and so it was with the crew of the _Golden Hope_. The dejected mien
so observable on the preceding day gave place to a bustle of
activity, for much had to be done ere we were ready to weigh anchor
and set sail on our homeward voyage.

The brig had to be careened, so that as much as possible of the
thick deposit of weeds and barnacles 'neath the waterline could be
scraped off; while ashore great cauldrons of pitch bubbled over the
fires, for much paying and caulking of seams had to be done ere the
_Golden Hope_ could be deemed sufficiently seaworthy for her long
voyage.

While the work was in progress Captain Jeremy ordered a party of men
to remove the false landmark, and to place in the former position of
the clump of trees a tall pole, surmounted by a large triangle
conspicuously painted black and white. Without this mark it would be
well-nigh impossible to get our correct bearings, and the _Golden
Hope_ would doubtless share the fate of the ill-starred _Neptune_
unless we took the narrow channel by which the _Antelope_ had
arrived. But this course would be impracticable with the winds
prevailing at this time of the year, hence the importance of the
newly erected pole.

At length the scraping and pitching of the brig's hull was
completed, and the _Golden Hope_ rode once more on an even keel. The
work of transporting the treasure from the stockade was now carried
out in earnest, and without mishap the whole of the precious stuff
was safely stowed in the _Golden Hope's_ strong room, under the poop
deck.

This done, it was thought prudent to dismantle and evacuate the
stockade.

The ordnance was removed and taken aboard the brig; the powder, of
which we had a considerable reserve, was carefully stowed in her
magazines. Silas Touchstone had proposed to destroy the stockade and
the buildings within it by fire, but to this proposal Captain Jeremy
refused to give his consent, observing that they might be useful to
any castaways who might have the misfortune to land on the island.

The small craft that had been taken from the buccaneers after their
rout by Silas Touchstone were beached as far as possible in the most
secluded part of the harbour. Though the wind and the sun would ere
long reduce them to mere wrecks, Captain Jeremy, in his humanity,
thought they might also be of service to others.

Then, having watered the ship, filling all the available barricoes
in addition to the tanks, for we knew not whether to make straight
for home or to put into Port Royal, we prepared to spend our last
night in the harbour of Treasure Island. Accordingly, having, as we
thought, finally severed our connection with the shore, we hoisted
in our boats, preparatory to making a start at dawn.

About an hour after sunset I was pacing the deck, when I heard a
hail from shore: "_Golden Hope_, ahoy!"

Several of the watch on deck also caught the cry, but, too
astonished to reply, they crowded to the bulwarks and listened with
awestruck feelings for a repetition of the hail.

Again the shout, "_Golden Hope_, ahoy!" pierced the darkness.

"Who can it be?" muttered one of the men. "All hands are aboard, for
they were mustered just before eight bells."

"I like it not," replied another, with a shudder. "'Tis the ghosts
of the slain men. We'll never reach home after this."

"Run and tell the Cap'n," suggested a third, with more good sense
than his comrades.

Just as Captain Jeremy came on deck the hail was again repeated.

"Who are ye, and what d'ye want?" shouted our Captain. He, too, was
puzzled by the mysterious cry. Something was shouted in reply, but
the words were unintelligible.

"Lower away a boat," ordered Captain Jeremy curtly.

The men moved aft to obey, obviously with reluctance.

"What are ye afraid of?" demanded our commander. "I'll go ashore in
her. Take arms and a lantern, and we'll soon sift this business."

The boat was lowered and the falls cleared, and the men, tumbling
into her, brought her round to the gangway. Here Captain Jeremy
stepped into the stern sheets, whither I followed, eager to solve
the mystery.

When within twenty yards of the shore the boat was turned till her
stern pointed landwards. Captain Jeremy stood up, striving by the
aid of the lantern that one of the men held behind him to penetrate
the darkness. I could distinguish a knot of men close to the water's
edge.

"Who are ye, and what d'ye want?" repeated Captain Jeremy.

"We've come back," replied a voice that I failed to recognize. Then,
after a pause, it continued: "Tom Cherry and the long-boat's crew."

"Run her ashore, men," shouted Captain Jeremy excitedly, and as the
boat's forepart grounded on the shingle our men jumped out to
welcome those who we thought were dead.

They were all present, nine all told, but with what a change in
their appearance! Even the yellow light of the lantern failed to
disguise the pale, gaunt features of Tom Cherry and his men. Their
clothes were in rags, and shoes they had none, though most of the
poor fellows had their feet bound with strips of cloth.

"The boat's safe enow, sir," exclaimed Cherry feebly, as he raised
his hand to the salute with an effort. "She's----"

"Never mind that," replied our Captain. "Get aboard as fast as you
can, and don't say another word till you are fed and rested."

'Twas easy to order the men to hasten aboard the boat, but so weak
were they that they had to be assisted over the gunwale, while, to
get them over the side of the _Golden Hope_, a bos'n's chair had to
be rigged. At length they were safely aboard, where it was painful
to see the poor wretches devour the food that was given them. Had
they had their will, they would assuredly have killed themselves by
their ravenousness; but having supplied them with small quantities
of broth, Captain Jeremy ordered them to be placed in their hammocks
and fed again in an hour's time.

The return of Cherry and the long-boat's crew prevented our sailing
at the appointed time, for since their craft was, according to the
gallant coxswain, "safe and sound", Captain Jeremy decided to bring
it back to the ship, as it was the most useful boat we carried.

The sufferers recovered sufficiently by the morning to tell us of
their hazardous adventures. When caught by the squall they were
swept to leeward of the _Neptune_ just as she disappeared, but were
unable to save any of the mutineers. Every moment they expected to
find themselves struggling in the water, for the boat was being
carried right over the shoals, on which the breakers were falling
heavily. But for the presence of mind of Tom Cherry, who ordered the
mast and sail to be lashed to the grass rope and thrown overboard,
so that the boat's head was kept to the crested waves, the long-boat
would not have kept afloat. As it was, this floating anchor acted as
a kind of breakwater, much of the force of the waves being expended
ere they passed under the boat. Even then several seas broke over
it, necessitating continuous bailing.

Ere the rain squall ceased they had been carried past the
south-western extremity of the island, where, being more under the
lee of the land, and the sea being deeper, the waves did not run so
high. Nevertheless, in their exhausted condition, they could not
make headway, and when two oars broke they were compelled to let
themselves drift, riding in comparative safety to their sea anchor.

During the night the wind dropped and the sea subsided, but being
without a compass and unable to see the island in the darkness, they
had to drift about till nearly two hours after midnight. Then, the
sky becoming clear, they were enabled to take a rough bearing by the
stars. Dawn found them with the island nearly below the horizon, but
after five hours' hard and laborious pulling they managed to land at
a little cove at the south end.

Here they found a path leading northwards, and after several hours'
walk, during which time they made a sorry meal of berries and water,
they recognized their road as being the same as we had taken when we
recovered the treasure. After great privations, and filled with
fears that the _Golden Hope_ had sailed, they managed to struggle
through the forest by the path we had made during our first
expedition into the interior, and arrived at the shore, having lost
their way more than once in the intense darkness.

During the day one of our boats was dispatched to bring back the
long-boat. As Cherry had reported, she was practically undamaged,
and with a favourable breeze both craft were alongside the brig well
before sunset.

At daybreak on the following morning the welcome order to weigh was
given, and as the capstan revolved to the cheery song of the seamen
the anchor came home, after an acquaintance of nearly two years with
the bed of the bay.

The wind had again backed, and blew lightly from the north'ard, so
that it was unwise to attempt to beat through the shorter and more
recently discovered channel that passed inside the shoal on which I
had had such a hazardous adventure.

Nevertheless, we negotiated the bends of the other passage in
safety, thanks to the replacement of the navigation mark on shore,
though everyone was anxious till the lead gave a depth of forty
fathoms.

An hour later the highest peak of Treasure Island had vanished
'neath the horizon. We were homeward bound.




CHAPTER XXX

The Last of my Sworn Enemy


That same day the wind, hitherto mainly from the north'ard, suddenly
changed, and blew freshly from the south-west. Nevertheless, as we
were in the joint current caused by the union of the North
Equatorial and the Canaries' Stream, our progress was slow.

Neither could we hope for long to be favoured by the breeze, as we
were in the zone of the north-east Trades; so Captain Jeremy decided
to skirt the windward side of the Lesser Antilles and the Bahama
Islands, and thus gain the double advantage of the Gulf Stream and
the prevailing south-westerly winds off the coast of North America.
Having progressed thus far, the proposal at one time talked of to
repair to Port Royal was given over, and our first place of call was
to be the Bermudas.

'Enery was now relegated to the post of first mate. He seemed quite
content with the reversal of his position, since he hoped, should he
reach England safely, to purchase an interest in a ship, and sail in
command.

I do not believe that there was a discontented man on the ship.
Thanks to our good fortune, the individual share of the treasure
would be considerable, and everyone was in high glee; and as each
hour brought us nearer to Old England's shores, the men's spirits
rose to such an extent that I wondered what they would be like when
they set foot in Poole once more.

On the third day of our homeward voyage we were sailing close-hauled
on the larboard tack, with the island of Barbuda just visible away
to windward.

The day was hot and sultry, and, the breeze being light, the _Golden
Hope_ was barely doing more than two knots.

Suddenly there was a shout from the look-out on the fo'c'sle that a
small craft was in sight. As this served to break the monotony,
there was a rush for'ard to see what kind of vessel it might be.

"It's a deserted boat," exclaimed Clemens, who had snatched up a
telescope. "At least, I can perceive no one in her."

As the _Golden Hope_ was heading almost straight for the derelict, a
very slight alteration in her course would bring her close
alongside, so Captain Jeremy ordered this to be effected.

"There's a man in her, a-lyin' with his head over the side," shouted
a seaman. "I can see him moving his arm."

"That is so," assented Captain Jeremy, after a prolonged examination
through his glass. "A survivor of some wreck, I expect. Anyway,
he'll be as dead as a marline-spike before we get alongside, if he
remain like that, with the sun pouring on him."

"He's dead, right enough," said 'Enery, after a while. "'Tis the
tossing of the boat that makes him move."

'Enery was right. Hanging over the gunwale, with one arm trailing in
the water, was the corpse of a man. We could not see his face, but
the nape of the neck was blackened from exposure to the sun. The arm
moved sluggishly with every roll of the little craft, giving the
corpse the appearance of being alive.

"Poor fellow! Starved to death, I take it," said Touchstone softly.
"I've seen that sort of thing before to-day. Shall we run alongside,
sir?"

"Aye," replied Captain Jeremy. "We might just as well, in case we
can do anything."

Silence fell upon the crew as the _Golden Hope_ crept slowly towards
the floating monument of an ocean tragedy, till all at once the
master gunner shouted:

"By Jove, that's one of our chests!"

We were now near enough to see over the gunwale as the boat rolled
in the oily swell. Lashed amidships, 'twixt two of the thwarts, was
one of the boxes we had made, ostensibly for the storing of the
_Madre_ treasure. Then, like lightning, the truth flashed across my
mind: I was gazing at the corpse of Ned Slater.

The chest told a silent tale. The villain must have begun loading
the boat directly the _Neptune_ struck the reef; then, seeing that
the ship was doomed, he sprang into the little craft, basely
deserting his companions in crime. By some means the boat had
escaped being swamped, and, offering little resistance to the wind,
had been carried by the current in a northerly direction. When the
gale died away, Slater must have prised open the lid of the chest to
bloat over its contents, only to find a load of stones within.
Either through the fury of his baffled hopes, or through the stern
necessity of lightening the little craft, he had hurled the
valueless cargo overboard, for the chest was empty. Helpless, and
blown far from land, the villain had died a horrible death from slow
starvation.

Springing into the fore chains, 'Enery, with boat-hook in hand,
caught at the gunwale of the boat as it slowly drifted alongside. He
made a sign to a couple of seamen, who, understanding, brought a
heavy shot wrapped up in a piece of canvas. Nimbly dropping into the
boat, one of the men quickly fastened the weight to the body of the
ill-fated wretch; then, staving a plank with an axe, he sprang back
into our fore chains.

'Enery disengaged the boat-hook, and ere the _Golden Hope_ had
drifted clear the boat sank beneath the waters of the Atlantic, and
the body of my father's murderer disappeared from view till the time
when the sea shall give up the dead that are in it.

I was glad that 'Enery had behaved thus. He had acted generously to
the memory of a man who had done his best to raise his hand against
every member of our crew. The rogue had paid the penalty and had
received his deserts, though in my calmer moments I rejoiced that he
had not met his death at my hands.

Soon after this gruesome incident we picked up a steady breeze that
enabled us to make rapid progress, and seven days after leaving
Treasure Island we crossed the Tropic of Cancer.

It was all plain sailing till we were within a few hundred miles of
the Bermudas, when a heavy gale caused the main topmast of the
_Golden Hope_ to spring.

In this crippled condition the brig crawled into the harbour on
whose shores the principal settlements are built, but ere we could
effect repairs an awful hurricane, the worst I have ever met, or
hope to meet, burst over the islands.

The storm came on quite suddenly, and almost before we had time to
strike our still-standing fore-topmast, and veer out all our cable.
Even in the comparatively sheltered harbour where we lay the sea was
churned into a seething cauldron of foam, whilst ashore the damage
was terrific. The lightly built huts of the settlers were unroofed
and most of the trees blown down; and so great was the havoc wrought
that 'twas a matter of difficulty to get our damaged topmast
repaired till nearly six weeks after the storm.

While lying in harbour we learnt from an outward bound West Indiaman
that things at home were in a very unsettled state, for almost all
men were dissatisfied with King James.

Yet--so suspicious had Englishmen become of each other--we could
gather no definite information, though many hints were thrown out
concerning what we might expect to find on our arrival at home.

At length, on the second day of October, 1688, we weighed and set
sail on the last stage of our homeward voyage, and late on the
forenoon of the following day the last of the low-lying Bermudas was
lost to view.

During the next three weeks nothing untoward occurred. The _Golden
Hope_ pursued her course over a seemingly boundless ocean, with
never a sail to break the skyline, till, when, according to our
reckoning, we were within ninety miles of Land's End, I was aroused
just after midnight by the shout:

"A light on the starboard bow."

Gleaming faintly through the darkness, I could distinguish a small
column of flame, apparently ten miles away, which faded and waxed
stronger at close intervals.

"What d'ye make of it, sir?" asked 'Enery, as he and Captain Jeremy
mounted the poop ladder to get a better view of the mysterious
light.

"Make of it? Why, it can be but one thing. 'Tis a ship on fire."




CHAPTER XXXI

The Burning Ship


Within an hour or so we had approached sufficiently near to the
conflagration to prove the truth of Captain Jeremy's assertion.

It was a large vessel burning from bow to stern, the flames mounting
to a tremendous height and casting a lurid glow on a thick column of
smoke that blew miles to leeward. The masts and spars of the ship
were still standing, though licked by the devouring fire, while her
double line of ports shone like a line of gigantic glow-worms.

Even at the distance we were from her we could hear the crackling of
the burning woodwork, and the subdued roar of the flames as they
issued from the bowels of that floating inferno.

"Near enough!" exclaimed Captain Jeremy. "'Twill not do to get to
leeward of her. Heave-to and lower away a boat; we may be able to
render assistance, though I fear 'tis too late."

These orders were promptly carried out, and the _Golden Hope_ was
brought-to at about three-quarters of a mile from the burning ship.
'Enery, with a willing crew, took one of the quarter-boats and rowed
boldly towards the vessel, while lanterns were hung on our rigging
and guns were fired at frequent intervals to attract the attention
of any boat-load of survivors that might have managed to effect an
escape.

Spellbound, I, with the rest of our remaining crew, watched the
conquering progress of the devouring element. Yard after yard came
crashing down from aloft, the blazing timber plunging into the sea
with a loud hiss as the flames were extinguished in the water. The
tarred and hempen shrouds, long since severed at the deadeyes, were
dangling like fiery serpents from the swaying masts; while ever and
anon the shotted guns of her broadside would discharge their
dangerous contents, the balls ricochetting on the surface of the sea
with a series of fountain-like jets. Some of the shots passed
unpleasantly close to the _Golden Hope_, and orders were given to
forge ahead till we were well in line with the stern of the burning
ship, where, being still to windward, we were in no danger.

Meanwhile we could perceive 'Enery and his men pulling slowly round
the ship at a respectful distance, the shot whizzing well over their
heads; and though the mate was to be seen standing up in the stern
sheets and carefully examining whatever floating piece of wreckage
they came across, we knew that none of the unfortunate crew had been
taken into the boat. If still alive, where were they?

The roar of our ordnance, fired at regular intervals, added to the
din; yet this signal seemed useless, for no strange craft was to be
seen rowing for the shelter offered by the _Golden Hope_.

Suddenly, with a loud crash, the foremast of the vessel went by the
board, and lay, still burning fiercely, across the fo'c'sle. The
mainmast soon followed, but, falling clear of the ship, it drifted
close alongside, the damp timber still emitting a dense cloud of
smoke.

By now the vessel had burned almost to the water's edge amidships,
and crash after crash could be heard as the guns plunged through the
burning planks into the hold. The fo'c'sle and poop still reared
themselves high above the sea, the latter surmounted by a pillar of
fire that encircled the mizen-mast.

Suddenly the dazzling glare of the flames was eclipsed by a flash so
brilliant that I was obliged to close my eyes to shut out its
brightness. Then came the deafening roar of an explosion, and
opening my eyes, I saw the air filled with flying pieces of
shattered timber. The magazine had taken fire.

Almost immediately the fire was extinguished; a thick cloud of smoke
hovered over the spot where the ship had been, while aloft a
thousand fitful streaks of light marked the downward course of the
burning timbers that had been shot up to an immense height.

For a full half minute the meteor-like flight continued, till the
hiss of the last of the burning timbers ceased and a great darkness,
intensified by the sudden cessation of the glare, overspread the
agitated sea.

We were now considerably concerned for the safety of 'Enery and the
boat's crew, for they were exposed to a great danger from the
falling wreckage, till the gleam of the boat's lantern showed that
they were at least still afloat.

At length the men rowed back to the brig, having sustained no
damage, though their faces were blackened with the smoke and
particles of dust that enveloped everything within half a mile of
the burning vessel.

"No sign of anyone," reported 'Enery, as he came over the side,
"though they may have taken to the boats long before we arrived."

"That's true," assented Captain Jeremy, "so keep the signal guns
firing till dawn."

"'Tis well that there's no sea running," said the mate. "A few hours
in an open boat will do no harm on a night like this, e'en though
the air is sharp."

"Not if we pick them up," added Captain Jeremy; "but I should not
wonder if they have already shaped a course for land. Yet do you
keep the brig hove-to till daylight."

The day broke with a red, angry sky that betokened foul weather. The
wind, hitherto light, began to strengthen, and an ominous swell
presaged rough water within a few miles of us.

Sunrise revealed no trace of the boats of the ill-fated ship, so,
ordering the _Golden Hope_ to be again placed on her course, Captain
Jeremy retired to his cabin to enjoy a well-earned repose.

Hardly had he turned in when, just as seven bells was striking, the
look-out reported four boats ahead.

Instantly there was a rush to see what manner of craft they were,
and it was soon evident that they were indeed the boats from the
burning ship.

By this time there was a fairly high sea running, and the boats,
having perceived our approach, had turned and lay on their oars,
with their bows facing us, the men giving an occasional stroke to
keep the boats so that they met the rollers bows on.

"She was no ordinary trader," observed Silas Touchstone, pointing to
the little flotilla. "Yon boats are crowded to excess. There's a
couple of hundred aboard 'em, or I'm a Dutchman."

"They would never reach land with the wind piping up as it is
doing," said Captain Jeremy, who had been roused from his cabin,
giving a hasty glance to windward. "Stand by to shorten sail."

Already three of the boats had shipped several seas, for we could
see the men bailing vigorously. There was not a moment to be lost.

It being now eight bells, we hoisted our ensign, according to
custom, and the sight of the Cross of St. George was hailed by a
cheer that was faintly borne to our ears from the still distant
boats. If the survivors had had any doubts as to our nationality,
they were now set at rest.

"Hands shorten sail!" Hardly had the last notes of the bos'n's
mate's whistle died away, when the topmen were flying away aloft;
the courses were taken up, the topsail yards lowered, and slowly the
_Golden Hope_ began to lose way.

"Women and children too, by Jove!" ejaculated Captain Jeremy, as the
boats made towards us. "'Tis well we are close to land, or we would
be hard put to it to feed them."

"'Twill mean half rations, in any case," replied 'Enery, "though the
men will not mind that."

"I'm sure they won't," assented the Captain. "But stand by; let the
men prepare bowlines, or we'll never get the women aboard without
mishap."

A long-boat, with most of its passengers huddled on the bottom
boards, was the first to get alongside, and willing hands helped the
weary men to climb our heaving sides. This done, 'twas easier for
our people to board the boat and fix the bowlines round the waists
of the female passengers; and without a hitch, though the frightened
women made no little commotion, we had them safely aboard. The crew
followed, and we having no further use for the boat, she was cast
adrift.

The second and third boats were also relieved of their human loads
and likewise sent adrift, but the fourth gave us more trouble.

Being handled with less skill than her consorts, she crashed
broadside on to the _Golden Hope_ just as the brig was recovering
from a heavy roll, with the result that some of the boat's planks
were stove in and she commenced to fill.

In the confusion several of the passengers, despite the assurances
of the officers and seamen in the boat, jumped to their feet, so
that the already heavily laden craft was in imminent danger of
capsizing.

Ropes were thrown from the towering sides of the _Golden Hope_
amidst a loud shout of "Women first!" Yet (though some excuse must
be made for their cowardice) several of the men sprang for our
bulwarks. Others, with more presence of mind, assisted in slipping
the bowlines over the shoulders of the women; and as each one was
hoisted aboard the danger of the boat being swamped became less.

Just as the last female passenger was being hauled up, the knot in
the rope that held her became unhitched-no doubt 'twas a landlubber
who tied it--and the next instant she was struggling in the sea.

It so happened that at that moment I was standing in the main chains
with a coil of rope in my hands, ready to throw it into the boat.

Fastening one end of the line round my waist, and calling to some of
our men to tail on to the other end, I took a flying leap into the
water. In my haste I miscalculated the distance that the brig
rolled, and ere I struck the surface I came into violent contact
with the side of the _Golden Hope_ as she swung back to larboard.

Half-dazed with the blow and well-nigh breathless, I plunged, or
rather rolled, into the water. The shock of the immersion recovered
me some what, and I struck out to where I had seen the girl sink for
the second time.

Guided by the bubbles that rose to the surface, I swam downwards for
nearly two fathoms, till just beneath me I saw her feebly struggling
form.

Grasping her by the hair--the only time I have ever served a woman
thus--I reached the surface in a few strokes, and called to the men
to haul handsomely on the rope. Then disengaging my hand and
throwing my left arm tightly round the girl's waist, I waited for
the _Golden Hope_ to come to the end of a roll, and shouted to the
men to heave roundly. This they did, and in a trice we were on the
deck of the brig.

By this time the work of rescuing the other occupants of the boat
had been completed. The female passengers had been sent into the
after cabins, there to be rigged out in motley garments of blankets,
sailcloth, and what not. The male passengers were sent willy-nilly
into the fo'c'sle, where they and the crew of the lost ship were
accommodated with the spare clothing of our men. The captain of the
vessel, a short, red-faced man, was almost beside himself at the
loss of his vessel, asserting in no mild tones that she had been
fired maliciously, and that he knew the culprit and would hand him
up to justice at the first port we touched. Strangely enough, he
uttered no expression of gratitude for the deliverance of the ship's
company and passengers from the perils of the deep, nor did he seem
sensible of the services we had rendered.

The ill-fated vessel was the _Phoenix_ of London, bound for Richmond
and other parts of Virginia with a full cargo and a great number of
settlers, mostly men of means who were dissatisfied with the state
of things at home, and hoped to live with greater freedom in the New
World. Many of them had lost their all, yet the worst sufferers
seemed by far the most stouthearted of the forlorn crowd.

The _Phoenix_ was but four days out from the Downs when, just after
sunset, the alarm of fire was raised, and soon dense volumes of
smoke were seen issuing from the fore hatch, apparently from the
lamp and oil room. Already the flames had taken a good hold, and in
spite of the utmost efforts of the crew, aided by many of the
passengers, the fire steadily gained, till just before midnight the
order was given to abandon the ship.

Directly the whole of the passengers and crew were embarked, the
boats pushed off and shaped a course for the Lizard, and having the
burning ship 'twixt them and us, they were prevented by the thick
cloud of smoke and the roar of the flames from seeing our lights or
hearing our signal guns.

Daylight showed them our sails well down to the west'ard, so, on
making sure that we were proceeding in their direction, they
abandoned the attempt to reach land, and waited for us to come up.
'Twas as well they did so, for all were of the opinion that none of
the boats would have reached shore.

Having been unable to change my saturated clothing, the after cabins
being, as I have said, given over to the women, I borrowed some
clothes from one of the men, putting on a thick pilot coat over all,
for the air was raw, especially after our lengthy sojourn in the
Tropics.

Then, to regain warmth, I began to pace the deck vigorously. In the
midst of my walk the poop door opened, and a girl appeared. In spite
of her quaint appearance--for she wore a skirt fashioned from a red
blanket and a coat that belonged to Captain Jeremy--my heart gave a
sudden bound, for I was face to face with my sister Constance!




CHAPTER XXXII

Constance's Story


The surprise and recognition were mutual. Only the untoward state of
my sister's garments prevented her from throwing herself into my
arms. As it was, she could only grasp my hand and exclaim:

"Oh, Clifford, you here! I thought you were dead long ago."

"Far from it," I replied, leading her to the shelter of the weather
bulwarks, for the wind was now howling fiercely. "But tell me, how
came you here?"

"'Tis a long story," she said, striving to keep back the tears of
joy that welled to her eyes. "But why--oh, there's Captain Jeremy!"

And at that moment our Captain came down the poop ladder, to find,
to his unbounded astonishment, that Constance was one of the rescued
passengers.

It was some time ere we dispensed with small talk and entered into
the more important details of our respective adventures, when
Captain Jeremy listened with rapt attention to my sister's
narrative, occasionally giving vent to a hearty exclamation of
approval as she told her story.

"You would hardly realize the consternation that your disappearance
caused. At first our uncle thought you had left the house by stealth
in order to go fishing, and promised you a warm reception on your
return. But when evening came and you did not return, we began to
grow anxious----"

"There you are," exclaimed Captain Jeremy. "Did I not say you were a
young rascal, when you were found in the hold? Didst give a single
thought to your worthy relative's distress?"

"There was a hue and cry raised, but though the countryside was
searched most diligently, not a trace of you was found. A month or
so later a lad's body was found in the Lym stream, and though 'twas
well-nigh unrecognizable, our uncle was convinced 'twas yours. At
any rate, he came to the conclusion that you had been drowned while
swimming in the river, and the body was buried as that of Clifford
Hammond."

"Then another misfortune came. Uncle John was thrown from his horse
near Buckland Rings, and received such severe injuries to his head
that in less than a week he died. Thus I was left without a relative
in England. In my distress I thought of our mother's brother's wife,
whom I knew to be living somewhere in Virginia; and being, as I
thought, without a single tie at home, I resolved to adventure
myself in the New World. With this object in view I went to see
Lawyer Thompson of Lymington, who had, as you know, the ordering of
our affairs. He approved of my resolve, but urged me to wait until
definite news could be obtained of our relative's whereabouts.
Accordingly a letter was sent by the hand of one Captain Joseph
Bennett, whose ship _Prudence_ was about to sail for the port of
Richmond."

"Four months later I had a reply, brought by the same Captain
Bennett, to the effect that Mistress Green, our maternal aunt, would
be glad to receive me."

"The _Prudence_ was timed to sail again from Gravesend on the
following Thursday week, and having made arrangements for my
passage, I prepared for the hazardous journey."

"At length I bade farewell to the home of my childhood. Lawyer
Thompson accompanied me as far as Southampton, whence the coach was
to carry me to London. It was a tedious two days' journey, with the
best part of another day's ride to Gravesend."

"On arriving at the latter place I found, to my consternation, that
the _Prudence_ had sailed on a special voyage to Hull, and would not
be back for another fortnight."

"There was nothing to do but wait, and by good fortune I found a
comfortable lodging at the house of one Mistress Thetwell. But once
again I was doomed to disappointment. The _Prudence_ never returned
to the Thames--she was lost, with all her crew, off Yarmouth--so I
was obliged to wait at Gravesend until such time as I could find a
ship that was sailing for Virginia."

"While awaiting this opportunity I chanced one day to be taking the
air along the Rochester road, when I heard the sound of a horse
galloping behind me. I turned, and saw a mettlesome nag bolting down
the highway, while, clinging desperately to the animal's mane, was a
girl of about my own age."

"As you know, Clifford, I was always used to horses, so as the brute
rushed by I caught at the dangling bridle. The nag carried me some
distance, and just as I had mastered him he trod on my foot. The
pain was intense, and I was barely conscious of seeing the girl slip
from the saddle ere I swooned."

"When I recovered my senses I found myself in a strange bed, with a
motherly lady watching me."

"She was Mistress Farndale, wife of a wealthy landowner, and it was
her daughter Winifred whose horse I had helped to stop. All the
members of the family were kind to me beyond measure, and, hearing
my story, proposed that I should stay as a companion to Winifred
till an opportunity occurred for me to take ship. And, strange to
say, I felt perfectly contented and happy, actually hoping that that
opportunity was yet a long way off."

"At length Master Farndale, for having spoken too openly in favour
of Archbishop Sancroft, was threatened with arrest; so, having
disposed of most of his property, he took ship for Virginia, having
previously made arrangements for his family to follow directly he
had prepared a suitable home for them."

"Thus I was able to carry out my original intentions, without having
to undergo the grief of parting from my newly found friends, when we
took passage on the _Phoenix_. There were Mistress Farndale, Rupert
and Gerald, her sons; and Winifred and myself, together with a
maid."

"I need not relate what happened on our unfortunate voyage, for you
already know of it; but when we were being taken on board this ship
from the boat Winifred fell into the sea, and someone rescued
her----"

"Lucky lad! Lucky lad!" exclaimed Captain Jeremy, bringing his open
hand down heavily on my back, to my great confusion. Then, as
Constance was at a loss to understand this sudden outburst, he
explained: "You see, Mistress Constance, 'twas your brother who
jumped after her. Sink me! 'twas a plucky action, for he was like to
have had his head crushed like an eggshell by the ship's side. But I
must away, for 'tis about time we made a landfall." So saying, he
hurried on to the poop, leaving us to continue our conversation.

"I, too, have news for you," said I. "Constance, we are now rich,
for the _Madre_ treasure has been found. It is on board this very
ship."

"How much is it worth?" she asked, with true feminine curiosity.

"Nay, I cannot say to a certainty, yet 'tis enough for us to be for
ever free from monetary difficulties."

Then I related all the principal incidents of our voyage, not
omitting the terrible fate of my father's murderer, till our
conversation was interrupted by the welcome cry of "Land--ho!"

From the poop I gazed once more upon the shores of Old England,
after an absence of three years, for on our larboard bow I could
discern the dark, lofty outlines of the Lizard, the southernmost
headland of our isle.

The _Golden Hope_ was now bowling along under easy canvas at a good
six knots, and ere night the dreaded Eddystone, rearing its ugly
reef above the breakers, was well abeam, and the rugged Devon coast
away on our larboard bow. Should this breeze continue, to-morrow's
eve would find us safe in Poole Harbour.

Just before sunset most of the rescued passengers, having recovered
from their harrowing experience, came on deck, and Constance
immediately gave me an introduction to Mistress Farndale and her
daughter.

Presently we were joined by Rupert and Gerald Farndale, whose
acquaintance I had made earlier in the day; and together we formed
quite a happy party, talking under the break of the poop deck until
it was quite dark.

Then the ladies retired, while I, lying in a hammock slung under the
crowded fo'c'sle, dreamed of Constance and Winifred, till I was
awakened by the violent ringing of the ship's bell and the hoarse
order, "Put your helm up, or we'll be run down!"




CHAPTER XXXIII

Safe in Port


'Twas a strange sight that met my eyes as I rushed on deck and
gained the fo'c'sle.

The wind had fallen light, and in the cold, raw gloom of that
November morning I could see ahead and on both sides of us a
multitude of great warships.

They were sailing in close order, under all plain sail, and had just
gone about on the starboard tack, for their crews were still engaged
with the halyards and braces, in obedience to orders shouted in a
foreign tongue.

This manoeuvre had thrown us fairly across their line, so that only
by putting our helm hard up were we able to avoid being run down by
a huge two-decker.

In the comparatively small limit of my vision, for the weather was
thick, I counted over forty sail, though, judging by the sounds,
there must have been twice that number hidden in the mist.

We scraped past the two-decker at barely ten yards' distance. She
was high-sided, and painted with one broad yellow and two narrow
brown stripes; while through her green-lined ports the muzzles of
some thirty-two brass guns flashed dully in the moist atmosphere.

Her decks were crowded with men, for in addition to her crew there
were about a hundred phlegmatic-looking soldiers, in blue-and-yellow
uniforms. On her poop stood a burly great-coated officer, who raised
his speaking-trumpet with the evident intention of hailing us; but
apparently he thought better of it, and in almost perfect silence,
save for the hiss of the water at her cutwater and the straining and
creaking of her tackle, the ship glided past. Then, as she displayed
her lofty stern, with its wreath of decorative giltwork, I read the
name _Maese_.

For a full half-hour we were hard put to it to avoid being run down
by the ships of the mighty fleet, which, we learned from the crew of
the _Phoenix_, was known to have been lying at Helvoetsluys, ready
to carry the Prince of Orange to England to wrest the crown from his
incapable father-in-law, King James.

"Where are they bound for, being so far down Channel?" asked the
master gunner.

"Nay, I know not," replied Captain Jeremy. "But Heaven forfend that
they land in the West. Enough English blood was wasted in the last
rising, as many of us know."

"What chance hath the Prince, think you?" he continued, addressing
the master of the _Phoenix_, who had also turned out to see the
unwonted sight.

"A far better one than had the Duke of Monmouth," was the answer;
"though, with all his faults, give me King James. I fought under him
when he was Duke of York, and a braver seaman never trod deck."

"Ah! James Duke of York and James King of England are two very
different personages, I trow," replied Captain Jeremy. "The best
fighter is ever the worst statesman."

"After all," said the master of the _Phoenix_, "so long as there are
English ships at sea and plenty of work for us poor seamen, it
matters not much who rules the roost. That's how the wind blows, say
I."

"The wind draws ahead," observed Captain Jeremy; "that is the matter
that concerns us chiefly. I doubt whether we'll see port today."

This was indeed the case, for the breeze, now provokingly light, had
backed till it came from the east'ard, so that it meant a dead beat
to windward. To men long absent from home this was especially
galling, though in my case I found consolation in being in the
company of Mistress Winifred, with whom I generally managed to have
several hours pleasurable conversation.

Neither did we make Poole that day nor the next, for it fell a flat
calm, after the manner of St. Martin's summer, so that for
thirty-six hours we drifted with the tide within sight of the Dorset
hills.

At length a steady southwesterly breeze sprang up, and, with barely
a hogshead of biscuit and a gallon of water aboard, the _Golden
Hope_ came in sight of Poole Harbour.

"What cheer--ho, Master Light!" exclaimed Captain Jeremy, as a
weather-beaten pilot came over the side. "How fares it at home?"

"Precious little news," replied the pilot, "though they say that
English beef will henceforth be flavoured with Orange."

"So?"

"Aye; they say the Dutchman hath landed at Torbay, and advanced on
Exeter. In short, there are all sorts of rumours, yet I pay scant
heed to them."

With the air of a man who, in the exercise of his duty, scorns to
indulge in conversation, Master Light made his way aft, and under
his guidance the _Golden Hope_ threaded the tortuous channel that
leads to Poole Town.

"Is it your wish to berth alongside the quay?" demanded the pilot.

"Nay, rather I would anchor in the stream," replied Captain Jeremy,
mindful of the precious nature of our cargo.

"Hands shorten sail!"

Slowly the _Golden Hope_, with ever-decreasing way, glided abreast
of the town, and with the welcome order, "Let go", the anchor
plunged into the muddy waters of Poole Harbour.

The voyage of the _Golden Hope_ was over.

The news of the success of the Prince of Orange was hailed with
delight by the former crew of the _Neptune_. To them it meant that
they were free to return to their homes in the marshes of Somerset,
without fear of being again hauled before the justices and sentenced
to a horrible existence in the unhealthy swamps of Barbados; and on
this account we, too, felt glad at the unexpected solution of their
difficulties.

Our first care was to get the passengers and crew of the _Phoenix_
safely ashore. There was, we heard, a stout barque on the point of
sailing for Virginia in a few days' time, so that those who were of
a mind to cross the ocean, and had sufficient means to pay for their
passage, could avail themselves of her departure.

Mistress Farndale and her family had resolved to do this, but ere
they went ashore I promised to call upon them as soon as my duties
would permit, for until the matter of sharing the treasure was
settled Captain Jeremy would allow no communication with the land.

Three days later two assessors, being duly qualified Government
officers, came post haste from the Royal Mint and boarded us. The
seals of the strong room were broken and the massive locks
unfastened, and the task of allotting the wealth proceeded.

Having set aside the tithe claimed by the state, and also the amount
due to Sir William Soams (who received a good eight hundred per
centum on his outlay), the shares owing to the original crew of the
_Golden Hope_ and to the men of the _Neptune_ were duly paid out.

Then the residue, by a rough calculation of the value of 180,000
pounds, was to be equally divided 'twixt Captain Jeremy and the
heirs of the late Captain Richard Hammond. I could hardly realize
the value of this immense sum, though I knew that our share was
sufficient to restore the fortunes of our house to its former
greatness.

The _Golden Hope_ was now moored alongside a wharf on the Hamworthy
side of the harbour, and at two bells in the afternoon watch the men
mustered on deck, those who came off the _Neptune_ having fallen in
on the larboard side, each with his bundle ready for his long tramp
to distant Sedgemoor.

In a few hearty words Captain Jeremy addressed them, thanking them
for their services, and wishing them every success in their future.
Then, after three ringing cheers, the "Neptunes", their pockets
filled with coin, went ashore, amid the boisterous farewells of
their comrades of the last two years and more; and as the little
band of men, who were now returning to till the soil instead of
ploughing the deep, disappeared from our view, I felt that another
link with the past had been finally severed.

Our share of the treasure having been placed in safe keeping in the
town vaults of the corporation of Poole, those of the crew who
wished to take their discharge were dismissed, and under the command
of Clemens and the master gunner the _Golden Hope_ sailed for the
Thames, where she was to be handed back to her owners.

Two days later Master Phillips, a London goldsmith, arrived, and,
having carefully examined the plate, made us a good offer. Thus the
precious cargo of the wrecked _Madre de Dios_ passed out of our
keeping, though I retained a few pieces of rare and costly
workmanship as a visible reminder of the treasure that, according to
the friar's prophecy, had been obtained through fire and blood.

       *       *       *       *       *

Thus the story of the quest of the _Golden Hope_ draws to a close,
yet I must briefly dwell on the subsequent history of the principal
characters who played their parts in the search for the Madre
treasure.

'Enery, bluff, stouthearted seaman, is now master and part owner of
the vessel in which he sailed with Captain Jeremy to the far-off
West Indies, for the _Golden Hope_ is now engaged in prosperous
trading voyages to the Mediterranean ports. Yet whenever she returns
home, Captain 'Enery, still much the same as of yore, generally
contrives to visit his native Lymington; nor does he forget to
extend his journey as far as Brockenhurst, where, joining with his
former captain in a glass and a pipe, he'll fight his battles o'er
again.

Of Clemens the Cornishman we still hear, though less frequently than
we should like. He returned to his native town of Looe, where,
having given up the sea, he has worked up a sound boat-building
business.

Silas Touchstone, the master gunner, finding little use for his
calling on private vessels, took service in His Majesty's Fleet, and
promised to make a name for himself. Both at La Hogue and the
desperate and successful attempt upon St. Malo our late master
gunner was mentioned for conspicuous bravery. To what extent his
dauntless courage would have led him 'twould have been hard to say,
had not his career afloat been nipped in the bud by the loss of a
leg in action in Vigo Bay.

On attaining my twenty-first birthday I took ship to Richmond, in
Virginia, where Winifred and I were made one. A happier couple
'twould be hard to find, for our love has stood the test of time.
Still, there are moments when I hear the call of the salt-laden
breezes, and even yet I may once more adventure myself upon the high
seas.

Nor must I omit mention of a tall, elderly man, who, despite his
white locks and iron-grey beard, still carries himself erect and
alert as of yore. A general favourite with my children, especially
his little namesake, now a sturdy child of nine years, Captain
Jeremy Miles has given up the sea, and spends the greater part of
his leisure hours in spinning yarns to his interested listeners of
the quest of the _Golden Hope_.