Chapter Fourteen.
Completion and Launch of the Cutter.
On the day that followed the occurrence of the above exciting events, Nicholls and Simpson being still too weak to be fit for the somewhat laborious work of the dockyard, Leslie determined to pay a visit to his treasure-cave, being anxious to ascertain whether the earthquake had materially interfered with the configuration of the country in that direction, and, if so, to what extent. Upon learning his determination Flora announced her decision to accompany him; and accordingly, having packed a luncheon-basket, the pair set off together soon after breakfast, leaving Nicholls and the boatswain in charge of the camp.
The day was magnificently fine, but the temperature was somewhat higher than usual, the trade wind having softened down to a quite moderate breeze; so Dick and his companion proceeded on their way in a very leisurely manner, intending to take the whole day for their task of exploration. No very marked or important changes in the aspect of the landscape were noticeable until they reached the ridge or spur of the mountain that terminated in the headland that Dick had named Cape Flora; but as soon as this ridge, was crossed they saw that, for some unexplainable reason, the earthquake action had been much more violent on the northerly than on the southward side of it; so great indeed were the changes wrought that in many places the features of the landscape were scarcely recognisable, and Leslie had the utmost difficulty in finding his way.
At length, however, they arrived in the neighbourhood of the spot where they believed the cave to be situated, and here the changes had been so great that for some time Leslie was utterly at a loss. The surface was so twisted and torn, so utterly disfigured by landslides and upheavals of rock, that they might have been in another island altogether, so far as recognition of the original features was concerned. This was far worse than the worst Dick had anticipated, and for a time he was in a state of utter despair, fearing that his treasure had been swallowed up beyond recovery. Still, he felt convinced that he was in the immediate neighbourhood of the spot where the cave had been, and, bidding Flora to sit down and rest while he further investigated, he began to grope about here and there among the confused mass of rocks, studying them intently as he did so. For upwards of two hours Leslie searched and toiled in vain; but at length he came upon a piece of rock face that seemed familiar to him, and upon removing a number of blocks of splintered rock he disclosed a small hole, creeping into which he found himself once more, to his infinite joy, in the treasure-cave, with the treasure safe within it. He stayed but long enough to satisfy himself that everything was as he had left it, and then, emerging once more into the open daylight, he carefully masked the entrance again by placing the blocks very much as he had found them.
Pretty thoroughly fatigued by this time, he made his way to the spot where Flora was seated, and acquainted her with his success, while she unpacked the luncheon and spread it out invitingly upon the surface of the rock. This rock upon which they were seated occupied a somewhat commanding position, from the summit of which a fairly extended view of the surrounding country was to be obtained; and it was while the pair were leisurely eating their midday meal that Dick’s eye suddenly caught the glint of water at no great distance. Now, he knew that when he was last on the spot there was no water anywhere nearer than the open ocean; yet this, as he saw it through the interlacing boughs and trunks of the trees, flickered with the suggestion of a surface agitated by an incoming swell. As soon, therefore, as they had finished their lunch, the pair made their way in the direction of this appearance of water; and after about ten minutes of easy walking found themselves standing upon the brink of a kind of “sink” or basin about a quarter of a mile in diameter, having a narrow opening communicating with the open sea. It was a strange-looking place, presenting an appearance suggestive of a vast hollow under the coast-line having fallen in and swallowed up a circular piece of the island, leaving two rocky headlands standing, the southern headland slightly overlapping the northern one and thus completely masking the basin or cove from the sea. The surrounding cliffs were about a hundred feet high, composed entirely of rock, and presenting an almost vertical face; but so rough and broken was this face, and so numerous were the projections, that not only Dick but Flora also found it perfectly safe and easy to descend by means of them right down to the water’s edge, into which the cliffs dropped sheer, with a depth of water alongside so great that Dick could not discern the bottom, although the water was crystal-clear. And so narrow was the opening that what small amount of swell found its way into the cove was practically dissipated ere it reached the rocky walls, alongside which the water rose and fell so gently that its movement was scarcely perceptible. It was, in fact, an ideal harbour for such a craft as the cutter, and Dick at once determined to bring her round to this spot as soon as she was ready, in order to ship the treasure on board her.
Upon their return to camp that evening Dick found that Nicholls and Simpson were making such rapid strides toward recovery that they were not only able to walk about with something like an approach to their former strength, but that they also expressed their conviction that they would be perfectly able to begin work on the morrow. It appeared that they had been amusing themselves by prowling about the camp and investigating the condition of affairs generally. It was only natural that their chief interest should centre in the cutter, and the probable amount of work that lay before them all ere she would be completed and ready for sea. As has already been mentioned, her condition at this time was that of a completed skeleton, her keel, stem, and stern-posts having been joined up, the whole of her frames erected in position and properly connected to the keel, and all her wales and stringers bolted-to; she was therefore so far advanced that the next thing in order was to lay her planking. This planking, it may be mentioned, was of oak throughout, arranged to be laid on in two thicknesses, each plank of the outer skin overlaying a joint between two planks in the skin beneath it; and every plank had already been roughly cut to shape and carefully marked. All, therefore, that was now required was to complete the trimming of each plank and fix it in position. The inner layer of planking was much the thicker of the two, the intention of the designer evidently being that this inner skin should be attached to the steel frames by steel screws not quite long enough to completely penetrate the plank, the outer skin being attached to the inner by gun-metal screws carefully spaced in such a manner that there was always a distance of at least six inches between the steel and gun-metal screws, thus avoiding all possibility of even the smallest approach to galvanic action being set up between the two. And it was, of course, to the outer skin that the copper sheathing was to be attached.
Now the planking—even the comparatively thin outer skin—was much too stout and tough to be got into position without steaming; and this fact had occurred to Simpson while prowling about the dockyard that day. He had mentioned the matter to Nicholls, and the pair had at once looked about them to see whether Leslie had made any provision for the steaming of the planks; and, finding none, they had profitably amused themselves by sorting out, from the deck and other planking brought ashore from the brig, a sufficient quantity of stuff suitable for the construction of a steaming-trunk, and laying it aside ready for Leslie’s inspection upon his return. They had not quite completed their self-imposed task when Dick got back to the camp, and, seeing them apparently busy, sauntered down to the spot where they were at work.
“Well, lads,” said he, with a smile, “so you are getting yourselves into training, eh? I am glad to see that you are making such rapid advances toward recovery.”
“Thank you, sir; yes, we’re pulling round again all right,” replied Nicholls. “We’ve been amusing ourselves to-day by taking a general look round, and so far as we can see, your cutter—a most remarkable fine little boat she is going to be—is just about ready to start planking-up. But we see no signs of a steaming-trunk anywhere about, Mr Leslie; so Bob and I have been putting in our time on the job of sorting out from among that raffle, there, enough stuff to make a trunk out of; and here it is, sir, if you don’t happen to want it for anything else.”
“No,” said Leslie, “I do not require it for anything in particular; and as we shall certainly require a trunk we may as well work it up into one. That, I think, will have to be our next job.”
“Yes, sir,” agreed Nicholls; “it looks like it. But what about a boiler, sir, in which to generate the steam? I don’t see anything knocking about ashore, here, that’ll do for one.”
“No,” said Leslie; “and I am rather afraid we may have a hard job to find one. There is only one thing that I can think of, and that is one of the brig’s water tanks. I had intended to bring one ashore for that especial purpose; but now that those rascally savages have burnt the craft we may find that her tanks have been destroyed by the fire.”
“I should think not, sir,” dissented Nicholls. “They will have been stowed right down in the bottom of her, perhaps; and if that’s the case the fire won’t have had a chance to get at ’em.”
“I really do not know whether they were stowed in her bottom or not,” answered Leslie; “but we will go off to-morrow, and have a look at the wreck. One thing is quite certain: we must have a boiler of some sort, or we shall never be able to get those planks into position—especially those about the head of the stern-post—without splitting them. And I would take a good deal of trouble to avoid such a misfortune as that.”
The following day found Nicholls and Simpson so far recovered that they both declared themselves quite strong enough to turn-to, and accordingly Leslie—who, since the raid of the savages, was more feverishly eager than ever to get away from the island—took the catamaran; and the three men went off together to the wreck of the brig.
They found her burnt practically down to the water’s edge, and everything not of metal that was in her also consumed down to that level. Below the surface, however, everything was of course untouched. But all the gear—sheer-legs, tackles, and the rest of it—that had been of such immense value to Dick in getting the various matters out of the brig, had been destroyed with her; and if any very serious amount of turning over of the cargo under water should prove to be necessary, he would be obliged to provide and rig up a complete fresh set of apparatus. Moreover, there was no longer the convenient platform of the deck to work from, instead of which they had to wade about on a confused mass of cargo beneath the surface of the water, affording them a most awkward and irregular platform with, in some spots, only a few inches of water over it, while elsewhere there was a depth of as many feet. A careful examination of the whole of the visible cargo failed to reveal the whereabouts of the water tanks, or of anything else that would serve the purpose of a boiler; and at length they were reluctantly driven to the conclusion that before the search could be further prosecuted it would be necessary to procure and rig up another set of sheer-legs, and to replace the lost gear with such blocks, etcetera, as they could find among the heterogeneous collection of stuff already salved from the brig.
To be obliged to expend so much time and labour all over again was decidedly disheartening; but, as Leslie said, it was quite useless to worry over it; it had to be done, and the sooner they set about it the better. So they returned to the shore, and while Nicholls and Simpson, armed with axes, went off into the woods in search of a couple of spars suitable for sheers, Dick proceeded to overhaul the mass of raffle brought ashore from the brig, and at length secured enough blocks and rope to furnish a fairly effective set of tackle wherewith to equip them. There was a tremendous amount of long-splicing to be done in order to work up the various odds and ends of rope into suitable lengths for the several tackles required; but four days of assiduous labour found the vexatious task completed and everything ready for the resumption of work. Then ensued an arduous and wearisome turning over of cargo—much of it consisting of heavy castings and other parts of machinery; but at length they got down to one of the tanks, which they hoisted out, emptied, and floated ashore.
Then came the building of the steam-trunk, which they erected close alongside the cutter and right down at the water’s edge, for convenience in supplying the boiler with water; and this done, they were at length able to turn-to upon the important task of planking-up the hull of their little ship. And now it was that Leslie was able for the first time to appreciate the inestimable value of the carefully prepared and figured diagram of the planking that the builders had so thoughtfully included among the various matters appertaining to the construction of the cutter. For with it in his hand, all that was necessary was for Leslie to go over the pile of planking, noting the letters and numbers on each plank, and stack the whole in such a manner that the planks first required should be found on top of the stack, while those last wanted would lie at the bottom. And now, too, he found how great an advantage the possession of two able and intelligent workers was to him; for not only were the three men able to do thrice the amount of work possible to one man in a given time, but they were able to do considerably more when it came to such matters as lifting heavy weights, twisting refractory planks into position, and other matters of a similar kind where mere brute strength was required. Moreover, their steaming apparatus acted to perfection; and after the first two days—during which they were acquiring the knack of working together, and generally “getting the hang of things,” as Nicholls expressed it—everything went like clock-work. They averaged six complete strakes of planking—three on either side of the hull—sawn, trimmed, steamed, and fixed, per diem; and as there happened to be thirty strakes up to the covering-board it cost them just ten days of strenuous labour to get the inner skin laid; and the laying of the outer skin consumed a similar period. Then there was the caulking and paying of the seams in the inner and outer skins—which was a task that needed the most careful doing and was not to be hurried—as well as the protection of the inner skin by a coat of good thick white-lead laid on immediately under each plank of the outer skin and applied the last thing before screwing each plank down; all this ran away with time; so that it took them a full month to complete the planking-up and advance the craft to the stage at which she would be ready for the laying of the decks. But before this was undertaken they painted her three coats of zinc white, and, as soon as this was dry, laid on her copper sheathing and hung her rudder.
The laying, caulking, and paying of the cutter’s deck kept them busy for a fortnight; and she was then in condition for the fitting up of her interior. This, according to the original design, was divided up into a forecastle with accommodation for four men, abaft of which came a small galley on the port side, and an equally small steward’s pantry on the starboard side. Then, abaft these again, came a tiny saloon, and finally, abaft this again, two little state rooms on one side, with a little bathroom, lavatory, and sail-room on the other. The saloon was entered by way of a short companion ladder leading from a small self-emptying cockpit, some five feet wide by six feet long, this cockpit being the only open space in the boat, the rest of her hull being completely decked over. The saloon was lighted by a small skylight and six scuttles—three of a side—fixed in the planking of the little craft. The staterooms, although very small, were still sufficient in size to enable an adult to sleep in them comfortably, and their interior arrangement was a perfect marvel of ingenuity, each being fitted with a small chest of drawers under the bunk, and a folding washstand and dressing-table. This was the arrangement set out in the plans and provided for in the materials for her construction; and as it happened to suit Leslie’s requirements exceedingly well, he very wisely determined not to alter it. The work of putting together the bulkheads, lining the saloon, fitting up the staterooms, and generally completing her interior arrangements, was not laborious, but there was a great deal of it, and some of it came very awkwardly to their hands, due, no doubt, to a great extent, to the unaccustomed character of the work in the first place, and, in the second, to the confined spaces in which much of it was necessarily to be done; but at length there came a day when, after a most careful inspection of the craft, inside and out, Dick pronounced her hull complete and ready for launching. But at the last moment he decided that it would be more convenient to step her lower-mast ere she left the stocks; and, one thing leading naturally to another, an additional day was devoted to the job of stepping this important spar, getting the bowsprit into position, setting up all the rigging connected with these two spars, and getting the main-boom and gaff into their places. Then, with the remainder of her spars and all her sails aboard, they knocked off work for the night, with the understanding that the little craft was to be consigned to “her native element” on the morrow.
The dawn of that morrow promised as fair a day as heart could wish for so important a ceremony; and the three men were early astir and busy upon the final preparations. The most important of these was the greasing of the launching ways; and as Dick had foreseen this necessity from the very outset, he had not only adopted the precaution of bringing ashore from the brig every ounce of tallow and grease of every description that he had been able to find aboard her, but had rigorously saved every morsel that had resulted from their cooking during the whole period of their sojourn upon the island. Thus it happened that, when it came to the point, he found that he had what, with judicious and strict economy, might prove sufficient for the purpose. But he intended that there should be no room for doubt in so important a matter as this, and he therefore ruthlessly sacrificed almost the whole of a big case of toilet soap, with which he and the other two men went diligently over the ways, rubbing the soap on dry until a film of it covered the ways throughout their whole length. Then, upon the top of this, they plastered on their tallow and other grease until it was all expended; at which stage of the proceedings Dick declared himself satisfied, and marched off to rid himself of the traces of his somewhat dirty work.
And by this time breakfast was ready. Then, upon the conclusion of the meal, all hands adjourned once more to the yard, Flora being attired for the occasion in a complete suit of dainty white, topped off with a broad-brimmed flower-bedecked hat that, under other circumstances, would doubtless have graced some Valparaiso belle. Dick carried two bottles of champagne—the last of their scanty stock—in his hand, one of them being devoted to the christening ceremony, while the other was to be consumed in drinking success to the little boat.
Arrived alongside, Nicholls nipped up the ladder that gave access to the little craft’s deck, and attached the bottle of champagne to the stem-head by a line long enough to reach down to within about six inches of her keel. Then he went aft and lashed the tiller amidships, which done, he announced that all was ready. Upon hearing this Dick placed the bottle of wine in Flora’s hand, and, telling her when to act and what to say, stationed himself, with a heavy sledge-hammer in his hand, at one of the spur-shores, Simpson, similarly provided, going to the other. Then—
“Are you all ready?” shouted Dick.
“Ay, ay, sir, all ready!” answered Simpson, swaying up the heavy hammer over his shoulder.
“Then strike!” yelled Dick; and crash fell the two hammers simultaneously; down dropped the spur-shores, and a tremor appeared to thrill the little craft throughout her entire fabric.
For a single moment she seemed to hang—to Dick’s unmitigated consternation, but the next second he saw her begin to move with an almost imperceptible gliding motion toward the water. Flora saw it too, and raising the bottle of wine in her hand, dashed it against the little craft’s bows, shattering the glass to pieces and causing the wine to cream over the brightly burnished copper as she cried—
“God bless the Flora and grant her success!”
The speed of the handsome little clipper rapidly increased, and presently she entered the water with a headlong rush, curtseying as gracefully as though she had learned the trick from her namesake, ere she recovered herself and floated lightly as a soap-bubble on the water. (For although Dick had found an entire outfit of lead ballast for her, already cast to the shape of her hull, he had only put part of it aboard her, leaving out about six tons, in place of which he intended to stow the gold from the treasure-cave.) The little craft held her way for quite an extraordinary distance—showing thereby in the most practical of all ways the excellence and beauty of her lines—and when at length she came to rest Nicholls let go her anchor and waved his hand by way of a signal that all was well. Whereupon Dick and Simpson jumped into the canoe and paddled off to fetch him ashore.
The moment had now arrived when it became necessary for Leslie to come to some definite conclusion as to how far he would take these two men into his confidence. He had watched them both with the utmost keenness from the first moment of his connection with them, and everything that he had seen in their speech and behaviour had led him to the conviction that they were absolutely honest, loyal, and trustworthy. On the other hand, he had heard of cases wherein men even as trustworthy as he believed these two to be had succumbed to the influence of some sudden, over-powering temptation; and there could be no question that a treasure of such enormous value as that lying hidden in the cave constituted a temptation sufficient to strain to its utmost limit the honesty of any but the most thoroughly conscientious man. He therefore finally settled the matter with himself by determining upon a compromise; he would take Nicholls and Simpson into his confidence just so far as was absolutely necessary, and no farther.
Therefore, when they all landed on the beach, after taking Nicholls off the cutter, Leslie invited the two men to accompany him to the tent, there to empty their last bottle of champagne in drinking to the success of the new craft. And when this ceremony had been duly performed, Leslie turned to the two men, and said—
“And now, lads, the cutter having been successfully got into the water, I find myself in the position of being able to make to you both a certain proposal and offer that has long been in my mind. When I took you two men off your raft, and brought you ashore here in a dying condition, that tiny craft that floats so jauntily out there on the smooth waters of the lagoon was only in frame—a mere skeleton. But you saw of what that skeleton was composed; you saw that it was made of tough steel firmly and substantially put together with stout bolts and rivets. And since then you have assisted me to bring forward the little craft from what she then was to what she is to-day; you have seen and handled the materials that have been worked into her, and nobody knows better than yourselves what careful and faithful labour and workmanship has been bestowed upon the putting of her together. Now, I want you to give me your honest opinion, as sailors, of that little craft. You know that she was built for the sole purpose of carrying us all away from this island—which, I may tell you, lies well in the heart of the Pacific; I want you, as sailors of experience, to say whether you will feel any hesitation in trusting your lives to her.”
Nicholls laughed heartily at the question; and Simpson grinned corroboratively.
“Why,” exclaimed the former, “men have gone more than halfway round the world in craft that aren’t to be mentioned on the same day as that dandy little packet! The last time that I was in Sydney—which was last year—there was a Yankee chap there that had made the voyage from America in a dug-out canoe that he had decked over and rigged as a three-masted schooner—he and another chap—and they intended to go on and complete the trip round the world. I don’t mind saying that I shouldn’t have altogether cared about making such a voyage myself in such a craft; but yonder little beauty’s quite a different story. I’d be as willing to ship in her as in anything else—provided that it was made worth my while. What say you, bo’sun?”
“Same here,” answered Simpson, the man of brevities.
“You really mean it? You are both speaking in serious earnest?” demanded Leslie.
“I am, most certainly,” answered Nicholls; “in proof of which I intend to sail with you when you leave the island—if you’ll take me, Mr Leslie; and I don’t think you are the man to refuse two poor castaways a passage, especially as you’ve got plenty of room aboard there for us both, and we can make ourselves useful enough to pay for our passages.”
“Very well, then,” said Leslie. “Now, this is the proposal that I have to make to you both. I have here, on this island, snugly stowed away in a cave, certain valuables that I am most anxious to personally convey to England; and for certain reasons with which I need not trouble you, I am equally anxious to get them home without bringing them under the notice of the authorities, and the only way in which this can be done is to take them home in the cutter. My plan is to make my way in the first instance to Australia, where Miss Trevor will leave the Flora. At Melbourne I shall revictual, and thence proceed to Capetown, where I shall do the like, sailing thence to England, with a call, perhaps, at some of the Canaries, if necessary. Now, if you have no fancy for such a long trip as that which I have sketched out, in so small a craft as the Flora, you will of course be perfectly free to leave her upon our arrival at Melbourne. But if, on the other hand, you are willing to ship with me for the whole voyage, I think I can make it quite worth your while, for I shall require at least two men whom I can absolutely trust, and I believe you two to be those men. Now, what amount would you consider to be adequate remuneration for the run home from here?”
“How long do you reckon the trip is going to take, sir?” inquired Nicholls.
“Um, let me see,” considered Leslie, making a mental calculation. “We ought to do it comfortably in about one hundred and eighty days—six months; call it seven months, if you like.”
Nicholls considered for a few minutes, and then looked up and said—
“Would sixty pounds be too much to ask, Mr Leslie, taking everything into consideration?”
“What do you say, Simpson?” asked Leslie, with a smile.
“Sixty pounds ’d satisfy me,” answered the boatswain.
“Very well,” said Dick. “Now, this is what I will do with you both. It will be worth a thousand pounds to me to get these valuables of mine safely home, as I said, without attracting attention. If, therefore, you will ship for the run home with me, rendering me all the assistance necessary to take the Flora and her cargo safely to some port, to be hereafter decided upon, in the English Channel, I will give you my written bond to pay each of you five hundred pounds sterling within one calendar month of the date of our arrival. How will that suit you?”
“It will suit me better than any job I’ve ever yet dropped upon, and I say ‘done with you, sir, and many thanks,’” answered Nicholls, with enthusiasm.
“And you, Simpson?” demanded Dick.
“Good enough!” answered the boatswain, with his usual brevity.
“Very well, then; that is settled,” said Leslie. “I will draw up an agreement in triplicate at once, which we can all sign, each retaining a copy; and that will put the whole matter upon a thoroughly ship-shape and satisfactory basis all round.”
Dick prepared the agreement there and then, and having read over to the two seamen the first draft, and obtained their unqualified approval of it, he at once proceeded to make the two additional copies. All three were then duly signed, Flora also attaching her signature as a witness, and the transaction was thereupon completed.
“Now,” said Dick, “that bit of business being arranged, I should like to take the cutter round to a little cove at no great distance from the cave where my valuables are concealed, and get them aboard her at once, before her decks are hampered up with gear and what not; we will therefore get the catamaran under way, and tow her round. We can leave the catamaran in the cove also, and walk back by way of change. Moreover, it will afford us the opportunity to stretch our legs a bit; we shall not get very much more walking exercise now until we arrive in England.”
As the three men were wending their way down to the beach, Leslie’s eyes happened to fall upon the case of rifle and revolver ammunition from which he had been drawing his supplies. It was the only case of ammunition that he possessed; and now, with a sudden fear that in the hurry of departure it might be forgotten, he said to Nicholls—
“See here, Nicholls, we might just as well be carrying something with us as go down to the catamaran empty-handed. If you and Simpson will lay hold of that case of ammunition, I will bring along half a dozen rifles, and we shall then be quite as well armed as there will be any need for us to be. We may not want them, but, on the other hand, we may, and if we should happen to want them at all, we shall probably want them very badly.”
Upon taking the cutter in tow it was found that she towed very lightly, offering only a trifling resistance to the catamaran after both had fairly got way upon them; and in little more than half an hour both craft were off the entrance to the cove. Yet so cunningly had Nature concealed it that though Leslie knew almost to an inch where to look for it, he had the utmost difficulty in finding it, and had he not possessed a personal knowledge of its existence, and therefore persisted in his search, he would never have found it. But, after passing the opening no less than four times without being able to find it, he managed to hit it off at his fifth attempt, and, ten minutes later, both craft were inside and snugly moored to the rocky side of the basin, the catamaran being placed innermost to protect the dainty, freshly painted sides of the cutter from chafe against the rock.
Nicholls and Simpson betrayed the profoundest astonishment and admiration at the singularly perfect adaptation of the cove to the purposes of a harbour for small craft, and could scarcely be persuaded to drag themselves away from the water’s edge. But when at length they had been induced to climb up the almost vertical face of the cliffs and found themselves at the mouth of the treasure-cave, their wonder at what they saw was greater than ever. They uttered loud exclamations of astonishment when they were invited to lift one of the hide-bound gold bricks, and felt the unexpected weight of it; but neither of them appeared to have the remotest suspicion of the real nature of the stuff they were handling, Nicholls merely commenting upon its excellence as ballast, and lauding Leslie’s wisdom in having decided to so use it instead of those portions of the lead castings that he had rejected. Indeed, both men appeared to regard the queer little black leather—bound blocks as merely something especially suitable for ballast, and taken by Dick for that purpose and reason alone; it was the massive, ancient-looking, carved chests, with their elaborate binding of rusty metal-work that they appeared to regard as the receptacles of the “valuables” about the safety of which Leslie was so anxious.
They managed to get sixty of the gold bricks down aboard the cutter and stowed under her cabin floor that same afternoon, and by the time that they had accomplished this, the level rays of the declining sun warned them that the moment had arrived when they ought to be starting upon their march across country toward their camp.
The broken character of the country claimed a larger share of Leslie’s attention upon this occasion than when he had last visited the cave. Perhaps it was because his mind was now more at rest than it had then been—for the cutter that was at the former period merely a possibility, was now an actuality; and, more than that, already carried a very respectable little fortune snugly stowed away in her interior; or, possibly—who can tell?—there may have been some vague, unsuspected mental prevision that ere long an intimate knowledge of every detail of those curiously shapeless earthquake upheavals would be of priceless value to him. Be that as it may, he now looked about him with the eyes of the warrior rather than the explorer, noting with astonishment the wonderful way in which the earthquake had split and piled up the rocks into the form of a natural impregnable fortress, including both the cavern and the basin. There was one point, and one only, at which this natural fortress could be entered, and upon his previous visit he had passed through it twice without noting this fact; now, however, he not only took notice of it, but saw also that a small rampart, composed of a dozen or so of stones, that could be arranged in five minutes, would enable a single man to hold the place against an army, or, at all events, so long as his ammunition held out. So strongly did this idea impress itself upon him that he could not resist the temptation to actually construct this small rampart then and there.
“Stop a moment, you two,” he cried; “I have a fancy for trying a little experiment. Just bring me along a few of the heaviest pieces of rock that you can conveniently handle.”
And, seizing a block himself, he carried it to a certain point, and threw it on the ground. Then on and about this he piled the others that were brought to him until, within ten minutes, he had constructed a breastwork of dimensions sufficient to efficiently screen one man from the fire of an enemy, while it enabled him, through a small loophole, to effectually enfilade the one only spot at which that enemy could possibly enter. He flung himself down behind the barricade and peeped through the loophole. The defence was now complete.
“There,” he exclaimed, in tones of perfect satisfaction, “if anybody should ever come here in the future, and require a citadel upon which to retreat against overwhelming odds, this is the place. And so long as he can command the nerve to remain behind this barricade and maintain a steady rifle-fire upon that narrow gap—through which, as you may see, only one man can pass at a time—he will be absolutely safe. Well, thank God, we are not likely to need its protection, for we ought to be at sea on the third evening from now.”
The following day was devoted by the three men to the task of putting the remainder of the gold bricks on board the cutter; and this they succeeded in accomplishing before knocking-off work for the day; but it meant that they had to work hard and late to do it. Meanwhile Flora was equally busily engaged upon the work of getting together, from the heterogeneous assortment of clothing that had formed part of the Mermaid’s cargo, a sufficient stock to see her through her two months’ voyage to the other side of the Pacific. Knowing that she was thus engaged, and would doubtless be fatigued by the time that she had arrived at the end of her day’s work, Leslie was considerably surprised when, having traversed about half the distance between the cove and the camp, he encountered her; she having evidently walked out from the camp to meet him. Moreover he saw at once that this encounter was not merely the result of a natural desire on the part of a girl to meet her lover, it was something more momentous than that, for there was an excited look in her eyes that there was no mistaking. So, doffing his cap to her as she joined his little party, he said, with a smile—
“Well, dear, what is it? You have news of some kind for us, I see; but not bad news, I hope.”
“Oh no,” she replied; “it is not bad news at all—at least I should think not. It is simply that there is a ship approaching the island, and as I thought you would be glad to know it as soon as possible, I decided to come on and tell you at once.”
“Thanks, very much,” replied Dick. “This is indeed interesting news. Whereabouts is she, and how far off?”
“She is over there, in that direction,” replied Flora, pointing to the north-westward. “It was by the merest accident that I happened to see her. I took the fancy to go up toward Mermaid Head to gather a bouquet of those lovely orchids that grow in that direction, thinking that probably it would be my last opportunity to get any of them, and it was while I was gathering them that I saw her. She is still a good distance away; and I might have thought that she was merely passing the island, for when I first saw her she was sailing in that direction,”—sweeping her hand from west to east; “but while I was still watching her she turned round, and now is coming nearly straight for the island.”
“Ah,” remarked Leslie, thoughtfully, “this is certainly interesting, and I am much obliged to you for coming out to tell us. Let us be getting on toward the camp; there may still be time for me to run up to the point and have a look at her ere nightfall.” Then, following up his own train of thought, he added, “If she be as far off as you describe, she will hardly be near enough to hit off the entrance channel and come inside before dark—that is to say, if she really means to pay us a visit.”
Nothing more was said upon the subject just then; but as soon as Leslie reached the camp he procured the telescope, and, hurrying away to the nearest point from which it would be possible to obtain a view of the stranger, subjected her to as careful a scrutiny as the circumstances permitted.
After all, however, there was not very much to be learned about her, for she was about twelve miles distant, dead to leeward of the island, and as the sun was already dipping below the horizon, the time available for observation was but short. He could distinguish, however, that she was barque-rigged, and apparently a very smart little vessel of about three hundred tons or thereabout. That she was beating up to fetch the island was obvious; for whereas when Leslie first sighted her she was on the port tack, heading south, she shortly afterwards tacked to the eastward, thus—in conjunction with what Flora had already observed—clearly indicating that her purpose was at least to pass the island as closely as possible, if not to actually touch at it. And that the latter was her intention Leslie had no manner of doubt; for if she had intended merely to pass it closely by, there would have been no need for her to have made that last board to the eastward; by standing on to the southward she would have slid down under the lee of the island quite closely enough to have made the most detailed observations that her commander might have deemed necessary. There was one peculiarity connected with her that for some inexplicable reason took hold upon Leslie’s mind with a persistence that was positively worrying to him, yet it was a peculiarity of apparently the most trivial and unimportant character; it was simply that when she tacked he noticed—with that keenness of observation that is so peculiarly the attribute of the highly trained naval officer—that her yards were swung very slowly, and one after the other, as though she were very short-handed, even for a merchant vessel.
As Leslie closed the telescope and thoughtfully wended his way back toward the camp, he found himself perplexed by the presence within his mind of two strangely conflicting trains of thought. On the one hand, here was a ship approaching the island, and either intending to make a call at it, or to approach it so closely that it would be the simplest matter in the world for him to go out on the catamaran and intercept her. By acting thus he would be able, without any difficulty, to secure for his companions and himself transport to some civilised port from which it would be easy for them to obtain a passage to England, even though the barque herself should not be homeward-bound. And that transport would be at least of as safe a character as that afforded by the cutter, while it would be infinitely more comfortable, at all events for Flora, should they happen to encounter bad weather. Following this train of thought, it seemed to Leslie that the obvious commonsense course for him to pursue was to take the catamaran, go out to the barque, and, acquainting the skipper with all the circumstances relating to the presence of the little party upon the island, pilot her into the lagoon, with the view of coming to some arrangement for the shipping of himself and his companions on board her on the morrow.
But against this plan there was the thought of the treasure. What was to be done with it? Would it be prudent or advisable to entrust a property of such enormous value to a crew of absolute strangers, of whose characters he would have no time or opportunity to judge? Upon this point he had no doubt whatever; the answer to this question was a most emphatic negative. But if—so ran his thoughts—he was not prepared to ship the treasure aboard this unknown barque, and entrust it to her unknown crew, what was he to do with it? Was he to leave it concealed in the cavern that had already been its hiding-place for so many years, and return to fetch it away at some more convenient season? His recent experience of the great physical changes that may be wrought by an earthquake shock had already impressed upon him a strong conviction of the possibility that a second shock might at any moment bury the treasure irrecoverably; and this conviction was as strong an argument against the adoption of the alternative course as a man need wish for. No; he felt that it would be equally unwise for him to ship it aboard the stranger, and to leave it on the island until he could return to fetch it. If he desired to make sure of it—as he most certainly did—his proper course was to carry it away in the cutter, as he had always intended. And as to Nicholls and Simpson, he felt that, despite the appearance of this mysterious barque upon the scene, his liberal offer to them would quite suffice to hold them to their bargain with him. The ground thus cleared, there remained only Flora to be considered; and Dick very quickly arrived at the conclusion that she, and she only, was the one who could decide whether she would leave the island in the barque or accompany him in the cutter. But he had not much doubt as to what her decision would be.