Chapter Eleven.
The island.
Standing on as we were going, we ratched past the island until it was left a couple of miles astern of us, when we tacked ship, and brought the land on our lee beam. Then, steering full and by, half an hour’s sailing sufficed to bring the summit of the hill to the required compass-bearing of south-east, half-south, whereupon we bore dead away for it, and, leaving O’Gorman in charge of the deck, I sprang into the fore rigging and mounted to the crosstrees, from which commanding elevation I intended to con the brig to her anchorage. Miss Onslow was on deck by this time, drinking in, with eager, flashing eyes, the beauty and brilliant colour of the picture presented by the emerald island in its setting of sapphire sea; but as I sprang into the rigging I noticed that her gaze followed me; and when I swung myself out to clamber over the rim of the top—a performance which, to the eye of the landsman, appears distinctly hazardous—she suddenly clasped her hands upon her breast, as though in terror for my safety. The action was trifling enough, perhaps, yet I was disposed to regard it as not quite insignificant, since I had often stood by her side as she had watched—with evidently no stronger emotion than amusement—others perform the same feat.
Upon reaching my perch I found that we were still in deep water, no sign whatever of the bottom being visible through the depths of the exquisitely beautiful, clear, crystalline blue; but ahead, at the very fringe of the breakers that were dashing themselves into diamond and pearl-white spray upon the stubborn rampart of the barrier reef, there was a change of colour that told of shoaling depths; and a qualm of anxiety swept over me as I pictured to myself what would probably happen if, sweeping in before the wind as we were, we should plunge into that belt of seething white water, and find that there was not depth enough to float us. For a few minutes I was full of anxiety; but presently, as we slid nearer and nearer still to the reef, I detected the opening—a narrow passage barely wide enough, apparently, for a boat to traverse, but of unbroken water, merely flecked here and there with the froth of the boil on either hand. We were running as straight for it as though it had been in sight for an hour; and as we were following the directions given in O’Gorman’s paper, this fact seemed to point to an accurate knowledge of the place on the part of the author of those directions; which assumption I fervently hoped would be confirmed in every particular.
As we bore rapidly down upon the reef, the passage through it gradually assumed its true proportion of width, and I saw that there was ample room to allow of the passage, not only of the brig, but of a couple of line-of-battle ships abreast. The island had the appearance of being simply the topmost ridge of a mountain rising with a tolerably even continuous slope from the bottom of the sea; and the barrier reef was merely an excrescence or wall of coral built on to one side of it, and founded at a depth of ten fathoms below the surface of the ocean, as our lead presently told us. The basin thus formed had, during the course of ages, become partially filled with sand, forming a beautifully smooth, and even white floor, gradually sloping upward toward the surface from the reef to the shore of the island. All this was quite plain to me as we drove in through the break in the long, sweeping circle of foam; and, once in still water, I was able from my perch to see the sandy bottom as clearly as though it had been bare of water, every tiny fish and every fragment of weed that passed within a hundred feet of us being perfectly visible.
Once fairly through the opening in the reef and into the basin, we hauled up to south a quarter west, which course brought our jib-boom pointing to what then had the appearance of the mouth of an insignificant stream. But as we slid athwart the basin the opening assumed an appearance of increasingly greater importance, until when within half a mile of it I saw that it was really the comparatively narrow entrance of a fairly spacious little bay, or loch, penetrating for some distance into the land. Soon afterwards the big rock mentioned in O’Gorman’s document separated itself from the background of bush and trees with which it had hitherto been merged, and proclaimed itself as an obelisk-like monolith of basalt rearing its apex to a height of some ninety feet above the water level. When fairly abreast of this the canvas was clewed up, and the brig slid into the loch with the way that she had on her. This loch, or channel, wound gradually round for a length of about a cable, and then widened into a nearly circular lagoon about half a mile in diameter, in the very centre of which stood a small islet, thickly overgrown with trees and dense jungle. Keeping this islet on our starboard beam, at a distance of some twenty fathoms, we slowly circled round it until it was immediately between us and the outlet to the larger lagoon, when we let go our anchor in four fathoms, amid the exultant cheers of the men, who thus found themselves triumphantly at their destination. That we actually had found the identical island referred to in O’Gorman’s paper there could be no shadow of doubt, since the landmarks mentioned agreed perfectly; and my strongest emotion was one of surprise that an island of such dimensions should thus far have escaped the notice of the hydrographers.
All hands now went to breakfast; and when the men again turned to, upon the conclusion of their meal, their first act was to swarm aloft and unbend the whole of the canvas, from the royals down—a proceeding which seemed to confirm my previous surmise that they intended their sojourn upon the island to be of some duration. This task occupied them the entire morning; but when they knocked off at eight bells for dinner, the brig’s spars and stays were entirely denuded of their canvas. The Irishman had some little difficulty in persuading his satellites to go to work again after dinner, there being a very evident tendency on the part of all hands to take matters easily now, after their long spell at sea; but he eventually got them out from the shadow of the bulwarks and upon their feet again, when the boats were all lowered, the entire stock of the brig’s sails, new and old, struck into them, the spare booms launched overboard and towed ashore; and the remainder of the day was spent in erecting tents upon a small open patch of grass, upon the mainland—if I may so call it—that happened to be immediately abreast the brig. Miss Onslow and myself were thus left alone together on board, nobody seeming to take either of us into consideration in the making of their arrangements. There were arguments both in favour of and against this arrangement; for instance, our cabins aboard the brig were unpleasantly hot and stuffy in the parallels that we had now reached, and I had no doubt that we should have found sleeping ashore in a nice, airy tent very much more comfortable; but on the other hand, if we were to be allowed to occupy the brig we should at least be by ourselves, and the risk of nocturnal intrusion would be very much less; I was therefore disposed to consider that, on the whole, matters were more satisfactory as they were. Yet it went against the grain with me that we should be so completely ignored, and our comfort and convenience so completely neglected, by a crowd of graceless, unmannerly louts, and I was casting about for some means whereby I could compel at least a reasonable measure of consideration from them, when fortune unexpectedly intervened to help me. It happened in this wise.
After conveying ashore the sails and spars, and erecting the tents, the men came off to the brig again, and took ashore their chests and belongings generally, together with an abundant supply of food, and a still more abundant supply of liquor, with the natural result that a regular drunken orgy occurred that night, of such a character as to compel my gratitude that Miss Onslow was not an occupant of any portion of that camp. As it was, I deemed it only prudent to maintain a watch until the riot ashore had ceased, and the rioters had safely subsided into a drunken slumber. But my companion and I had to prepare our evening meal for ourselves, that night, or we should have gone supperless to our cabins. And, in like manner, we also had to prepare our own breakfast next morning.
That simple meal was over some considerable time before there was any stir or sign of movement in the camp on shore; but at length the cook appeared, still, apparently, in a semi-drunken condition, and by and by we saw the men sitting down to breakfast. They occupied an unconscionably long time over their meal, and when it was over most of the party lit their pipes and staggered away back into the sheltering shade of their tents again. There were two or three exceptions, one of whom was O’Gorman, who, after lighting his pipe, strolled down to the water’s edge with a paper in his hand that looked very much like the paper from which he had quoted the instructions for making the island, and which he appeared to be studying most intently, with a dubious air that, even as I watched him, rapidly changed into one of steadily-increasing perplexity.
At length, with a gesture of savage impatience, he folded up the paper, slipped it into his breast-pocket, and went off to the tent, from which he presently emerged again followed by two very sick-and-sorry, unwilling-looking members of his gang. The trio tumbled into one of the boats, shoved off, and headed directly for the brig. Miss Onslow was on deck with me, but as soon as I saw that the little party intended boarding the brig, I directed her attention to their condition, and requested her to retire out of sight to her cabin, which she did, very submissively, somewhat to my surprise.
The distance from the shore to the brig was but short, and in a few minutes the boat was alongside, and O’Gorman on deck, his two companions electing to spare themselves the fatigue of dragging themselves up the brig’s side, and stretching themselves out upon the thwarts instead, with their caps drawn over their faces, in which position they almost immediately fell asleep.
It was evident from O’Gorman’s embarrassed manner as he approached me that he had something to say, or some proposition to make, without exactly knowing how best to set about it. It seemed to me that he had unexpectedly found himself in some way at a serious disadvantage, but was anxious above all things to prevent my discovering his predicament. Then he was civil, which I had learned to accept as an unerring indication that he wished to inveigle me into consciously or unconsciously rendering him a service.
“The top o’ the mornin’ to ye, misther,” he began. “I hopes that you and the lady slept well last night, in this quiet, snug little harbour; havin’ the brig all to yourselves, too.”
“Ay,” retorted I; “and having to prepare our own supper last night, and our breakfast this morning. As for quiet, the place is quiet enough; it is the drunken blackguards occupying it that make all the row. Oh yes, we slept well enough, thank you—after the crowd ashore had guzzled themselves into a state of drunken insensibility.”
“Begorra, thin,” he exclaimed, in affected surprise, “did the shpalpeens keep ye awake? Whoy, Oi’d have thought you’d have heard the sorra a sound out here. But it’s not goin’ to happen again; it was just a bit of a jollification we threated ourselves to upon the strength of foindin’ the oiland all right; but there’ll be no more of it—barrin’, maybe, a bit of a spree when our work’s done here, and we’re ready to sail for home again. And, as to your breakfast, bedad Oi forgot it intoirely, but Oi’ll send the shteward off, wid ordhers that he’s to do nothin’ but just wait upon ye and the lady, and make things comfortable for ye.”
“What the mischief does he want me to do for him?” wondered I. “It must be something of especial moment, or he would never be so extraordinarily civil and obliging!”
But I merely answered:
“Thanks! It was part of our agreement, you will remember, that we were to be properly looked after, and waited upon. And, while we are upon the subject, there is another matter I should like to mention. It is exceedingly close and stuffy below, in this climate, and I should therefore like to have an awning, or something of the kind, rigged up abaft here, so that I may be able to arrange sleeping places on deck for Miss Onslow and myself while we are lying here.”
“An awning is it?” exclaimed O’Gorman, with effusion. “Begorra ye shall have that same, and welcome as the flowers of spring. Ay, and Oi’ll send ye off a topsail to throw over the spanker-boom and so make ye two illigant staterooms, one on each side the deck.”
“It certainly must be some very extraordinary service that he wishes me to render him!” thought I. But I answered:
“Very well. As soon as the people are sober enough to behave themselves, send them off with the canvas and some lashing, and I will tell them what I want done.”
“Oi’ll do that same,” answered O’Gorman. “And now,” he continued, “I suppose you and the lady ’d loike a run ashore, wouldn’t ye?”
“Yes, certainly,” I answered, “but not to-day. We will wait until everybody has had time to get completely sober again. I do not choose that the lady should be subjected to the annoyance of encountering, and perhaps being insulted by, some half-drunken lout. But you will not require all the boats, I suppose, so you had better send off the smallest one, with a pair of oars, that we may have the means of going to and from the ship and the shore at our own pleasure, and independently of your people.”
This was too much for the fiery temper of the Irishman; genial and obliging as he had striven to be, it had been clearly apparent to me that he was growing increasingly restive under the lengthening list of my demands, and now this cool requisition of a boat was the last straw that broke the camel’s back—or, in other words, exhausted the Irishman’s slender stock of patience; he looked at me with blazing eyes for a moment, and then rapped out:
“Boat is it, thin? The divil a boat will I let ye have; if ye want a boat, go ashore and build one for yoursilf. And go to the divil and get your awning, and your canvas, and your lashings, and your cook, too, begorra! for sorra a one of anny of thim will ye get from me! I was a fool to promise ye annything, but I wanted your help, and I thought Oi’d get it by humourin’ ye. But now, be jabers, Oi’ll make ye help me, whither ye like it or not; and the divil a thing will I do for ye in return!”
“What is it you want me to do for you?” asked I quietly, determined to keep my temper whatever might happen, and curious to know what service it could possibly be that had caused the fellow to constrain himself so far in the endeavour to conciliate me.
“I want ye to do this—and, understand me, ye’ll have to do it, whither it plaises ye or not,” he answered. “There’s a spot somewhere on that bit of an oiland,”—indicating the small islet opposite which the brig was moored—“that I want to find. Whin I first read the paper that speaks of it, it seemed the simplest thing in the worruld to come here and put me fut on it; but now that Oi’m here, and have seen the place, by me sowl I can’t see or understand how Oi’m to go about it. And no more can anny of the rest of us. So the long and the short of it is, misther, that you’ll have to find the place for us.”
“What do your instructions direct you to do?” demanded I.
“My instructions, is it?” repeated O’Gorman. “Oh, begorra, they’re simple enough. They say,”—here he paused, fumbled in his breast-pocket, and presently produced the dirty, greasy slip of paper, with the appearance of which I was now becoming familiar, and carefully unfolding it, read:
“‘Dhraw a loine from one black rock to the other, and on this loine project another to the summit of the peak, makin’ an angle of sixty-foive degrees to the west’ard. Dig there, and,’—well, the rest has got nothing to do with it.”
“Um!” said I musingly; “I am not surprised to learn that none of you men can understand such directions as those; I am not at all sure that I understand them myself. At the same time there is hint enough to put me on the right track. And now, O’Gorman,” continued I, throwing all the impressiveness I could muster into my manner, “I want you to listen to me, and mark well what I say, for I am in downright earnest, and no mistake. I gather, from the whole drift of this adventure, that your object in coming here is to hunt for a certain buried treasure, the hiding-place of which is indicated on that paper in your hand. Now, I have brought you to this spot, and it is exceedingly probable that I may be able to help you to find the treasure—if it is still where it was originally hidden—while I am absolutely certain that you will never find it without my help—and, when all is done, I can help you to convey your booty successfully home. Now, understand me, I want no reward whatever, either in the shape of a share of the treasure, or otherwise, for affording you this assistance; but I tell you plainly that I will have respectful treatment, and perfect freedom, both for myself and for the lady, together with every one of those little comforts and conveniences for which I have asked. Stop, I have not finished yet,” I continued, as I saw that he was about to bluster. “You have been labouring under the delusion, all along, that Miss Onslow’s presence among us affords you an effective means of coercing me to do certain things for you. Now, it is time that such an impression should be removed. I am perfectly willing to help you in any and every way, so long as we are both treated with civility and consideration; but if you, or any one of your men, should dare to molest Miss Onslow in any way, or show her the slightest incivility, from that moment I will cease to help or do anything whatever for you—which means, that even should you succeed in obtaining the treasure that you are after, you will never be able to take it home and enjoy it. Now, think over what I have said, and let me know your decision as soon as you have made up your mind. But do not you ever again attempt to coerce me by uttering threats of violence to the lady, for it will not do! My chief stipulation is that she shall be as absolutely secure from insult or injury among you as though she were under the protection of her father’s roof, and I mean that she shall be so, or I will send the whole lot of you to the devil, even if I have to accompany you.”
To defy the whole gang in so uncompromising a manner was undoubtedly a bold game to play, but it proved to be the right thing to do; for as I stared the Irishman unshrinkingly in the eyes I saw his gaze wavering under mine, and presently his scowling expression relaxed into a smile as he exclaimed:
“Begorra, Misther Conyers, ye’re a brave man intoirely to brazen the thing out in that stoyle, one against sixteen of us. But it’s yourself that knows right well that ye’ve got the pull of us, by raison of your eddicashin, so I suppose we may as well let ye have your own way, and make no more bones about it. All we want is your help to find the threasure and get it safely home; and if ye’ll give us that ye may have your own way in ivery thing else; it’ll make no real differ to us.”
“Very well,” said I; “you are now speaking like a reasonable and sensible man, and it is a bargain between us that I shall afford you the fullest possible assistance to carry out your schemes—so far as they may be lawful—upon the terms and conditions which I have stipulated. Now, if you will let me have your paper, in order that I may study it as a whole, I shall perhaps be able to gather the writer’s full meaning, and thus enable you to find the exact spot of which you are in search. Meanwhile, you had better go ashore again, and give your immediate attention to the few little matters that I mentioned just now, before you lost your temper.”
The fellow hesitated a moment, gazing doubtfully and still somewhat distrustfully at me, and then, with a sigh, handed over the paper to my keeping. Then, without a word, he turned away, went down over the side into his boat, and was forthwith pulled ashore.
As the boat shoved off from the brig’s side, I opened the paper and glanced at its contents. The complete document read as follows:—
“Latitude 2 degrees 48 minutes 40 seconds South. Longitude 144 degrees 10 minutes 10 seconds West. Approach island from north-west, and stand toward it with summit of hill bearing South-East by a half South, which leads through the passage in the barrier reef. Then haul up to South by a quarter West for the mouth of the bight at the bottom of the bay. Stand boldly in until abreast of the big rock at the mouth of the bight, when clew up and furl everything. Follow the bight until you reach the lagoon, when anchor anywhere not closer than within a dozen fathoms of the island. The gems are buried in the earth at a spot which may thus be identified. Draw a line from one black rock to the other; and on this line project another to the summit of the peak, making an angle of sixty-five degrees to the westward. Dig there, and the gems will be found at a depth of three feet below the surface. I write this that the treasure may not be lost should I die ere I find opportunity to secure it.
“John Withicombe.”
The document was written in the calligraphy of an evidently educated man; and now that I had it in its complete form in my hands I began to regard the whole matter in a very different light from what I had hitherto done; up to now I had been disposed to regard the adventure as one that was more than likely to prove a wild-goose chase; but as I noted the evidences of intelligence and education that the document revealed on the part of the writer it suddenly dawned upon me that after all there might be something in it. But who was John Withicombe, and how did he become acquainted with the existence of the treasure? Did he hide it himself, or did he discover its whereabouts by accident? And where did the treasure come from?
I was still puzzling over these questions when I was startled out of my reverie by a light step beside me; and, turning, I beheld Miss Onslow regarding me with eyes so brilliant that I could almost fancy they were gemmed with tears.
“So,” she exclaimed playfully, “you have been fighting another wordy battle with that Irish wretch; and this time, having kept your temper under control, you have emerged victorious from the conflict. But oh, Mr Conyers,” she continued, her voice suddenly changing to a tone of deep earnestness, “I cannot express to you how profoundly sorry I am that you should thus continually be harassed and worried on my account—oh yes, I heard everything; I was in the cabin, and the skylight was open, so I could not help hearing what passed. I know that these men are taking advantage of my presence to coerce and terrorise you by means of threats of violence toward me, and I cannot help feeling how dreadfully you are hampered and embarrassed by having me to look after and protect. But you have never wavered or faltered for one instant, you have forgotten all about yourself and have thought wholly and only of me; and—and—I think it only right you should know how greatly I appreciate your goodness, and—how—how—grateful I am for all that you have done and are still doing for me.”
There undoubtedly were tears in her eyes as she concluded; but a certain wild, delirious hope, that had half formed itself as I noted the enthusiasm with which she had begun her speech, died out again as she faltered and hesitated, and finally concluded in as sober, impassive, conventional a tone as though she had been thanking me for procuring a cab for her on a rainy night. I hastened to assure her that she was quite mistaken in supposing that her presence aboard the brig was an embarrassment to me; that, on the contrary, it was the only pleasant feature of the whole adventure, so far as I was concerned; and then, fearing lest her gracious mood should tempt me to say more than she would be willing to listen to, I hastily turned the conversation toward O’Gorman’s document, which I placed in her hands, asking her to read it and tell me what she thought of it.
She read it carefully through once, and then handed it back to me with the remark:
“I think it is perfectly genuine—everything appears to point in that direction—and I have no doubt whatever that the gems will be found in the spot indicated.”
“I am now inclined to that opinion myself,” said I. “But how is the spot indicated to be found? The writer, you will observe, mentions two black rocks, but he furnishes no clue whatever as to their whereabouts. Where are we to look for these rocks? and how are we to identify them?”
“That particular passage,” answered she, “is, I admit, decidedly obscure. Yet I think the context furnishes a clue to its elucidation. It reads thus:—‘anchor anywhere not closer than within a dozen fathoms of the island,’—which I take to mean this small island, or islet, opposite us. The island was evidently the most prominent object in the writer’s mind when he penned the words immediately following those that I have just quoted; and I therefore conclude that it is somewhere in that small island—a most suitable hiding-place, I think you will admit—that the treasure lies concealed. And it is there also, I think, that the two black rocks should be searched for. As to how the rocks are to be identified, the writer speaks of them in such a manner as to suggest that there is no possibility of mistaking them; and I therefore infer that there are two rocks—and two only—that can possibly be associated with the instructions given in the paper.”
“Yes,” said I; “I quite see your line of reasoning; and I believe you are right. At all events, the suggestion is so reasonable that it is quite worth following; and it is upon those lines that I shall advise O’Gorman to go to work. Ah, by Jove! look there! I believe the fellow actually means to stick to his bargain at last: here come the men with the sails and so on that I have asked for; and to-night I hope you will be able to rest in comparative coolness out here on deck, with an awning, and all other proper shelter from the dew.”
The boat, with half a dozen hands in her, was soon alongside, and by midday we had not only an awning spread over the whole of the after-deck, from the taffrail to the mainmast, but also a spacious canvas sleeping-tent under it, divided into two compartments, and so arranged that my companion might enjoy the most absolute privacy. The steward also came off, and resumed possession of his usual quarters, and as he was one of the quietest and most respectable men of the party, was as good a cook as “the doctor” himself, and seemed genuinely anxious to do his best for us, it soon appeared as though we were about to be favoured with a spell of peace and quietness.
Meanwhile, O’Gorman religiously refrained from obtruding himself upon us until I had dismissed the boat’s crew upon the completion of their labours, when he came aboard, ostensibly to ascertain whether everything had been done to my satisfaction, but actually—as I soon discovered—to claim the assistance that I had undertaken to afford him. And this, of course, I was more than ready to give, now that I had obtained from him what I wanted, being feverishly anxious to bring the entire adventure to a conclusion as speedily as possible, in order that I might be free to convey Miss Onslow in all safety and honour to her father’s arms. So I threw myself heartily into the spirit of the search, accompanying O’Gorman and a search-party to the islet, and actively participating in a hunt for the two black rocks. But, after persevering for more than three hours, it became evident that the little spot was so completely overgrown with tangled, impenetrable jungle that but one course was open to us, that of clearing the ground by cutting down and destroying the network of creepers that choked up the spaces between the tree-trunks. This proved to be a lengthy and arduous undertaking, it being necessary to cut the undergrowth away in blocks, as it were, and then drag the detached masses to the water’s edge and tumble them overboard. But after four days of this work, at the end of which there was very little result to show for our labour, we found evidences of the islet having at some previous period been cleared by means of fire, the workers having encountered several charred and blackened tree-stumps; so we determined to adopt a similar course, the vegetation being dry and in excellent condition for such an experiment. Accordingly, the undergrowth was attacked with knives and axes on the weather side of the island, and the detached masses, instead of being hove overboard, were allowed to remain and thoroughly dry in the sun. Then, when our accumulation of dry brushwood seemed sufficient for our purpose, it was set alight, and in half an hour the entire island was a blazing mass, there being just wind enough to fan the flames and cause them to spread. In two hours the operation was complete, the once verdant and beautiful spot having been converted into an ugly patch of flat and fire-blackened soil, some fifty acres in extent, with two conspicuous outcrops of black rock protruding from the ashes and débris of the conflagration.
There was very little doubt in my mind that the two outcrops of rock rendered visible by the destruction of the vegetation upon the islet were those referred to by John Withicombe, and I said as much to O’Gorman, whose impatience to test the truth of my conviction was such that he would have had me go to work with my rods and sextant that same afternoon; but when we attempted to land upon the islet we found that although the ashes were black on the surface they were still a dull glowing red in the heart of them, and so hot that they were not yet to be stood upon, leaving out of the question the veil of acrid, suffocating, blue smoke that still wreathed and curled from out them.
Our enforced detention, however, was by no means wasted time, for now that the surface of the island was bare, and I could see what I had to work upon, I could also see that several long, slender ranging-poles would be necessary, and the obtaining and preparation of these kept all hands busy for the remainder of that day. And immediately after breakfast, next morning, I got out my sextant, and, all hands of us landing upon the islet, we went to work with a will. First of all, I made my way to one of the masses of rock, and climbed up on it. Both masses had well-defined “peaks,” and I came to the conclusion that the instruction to “draw a line from one black rock to the other” would mean that a straight line must be drawn, or ranged, from one of these well-defined peaks to the other. So I temporarily removed the telescope from my sextant, and, levelling it upon the extreme peak, or highest point of the rock I occupied, brought it to bear upon the corresponding peak of the other rock. Then I sent a man along with instructions to start from the other rock and walk toward me, halting whenever I raised my hand and sticking a rod perpendicularly in the ground. I met with a great deal more difficulty than I had anticipated in securing the satisfactory execution of this apparently simple operation, but by keeping the telescope levelled from the one peak and bearing upon the other, and making the man hold the rods truly vertical, I at length succeeded in ranging out a perfectly straight line from the one rock to the other. Then, setting the limb of my sextant to an angle of sixty-five degrees, and stationing myself at certain points in the line—which I was easily able to do by means of the rods—I at length found the exact point required, which I marked by driving a stake into the ground. “There,” said I to O’Gorman, “is your point—if my interpretation of the instructions given in your paper is the correct one; and at a depth of a yard or thereabouts below the surface you ought to find your treasure. If you do not find it at this precise spot I would recommend you to try a little to right and left, in line with the poles that, as you see, I have left standing.”