CHAPTER XXXIV.

JOSEPH ALDERLY.

In the morning, when he woke and went on to the deck of his little craft, he saw Barbara standing on the river's brink--evidently waiting for him to be stirring. Therefore, he at once got into his dinghy and went ashore to her.

"What is he doing now?" he asked, as he took her hand and noticed for the first time the absence of the splendid flush of health upon her face that was generally there. This morning she had dark purple rings under her eyes--as though she had not slept or had been weeping.

"He is asleep now," she said, "after sitting up drinking, singing, and muttering to himself till nearly daybreak. Oh, Mr. Crafer!" she broke off, "what is to be done?"

"What does he know?" asked Reginald in return. "Did he hear any of the story I read to you? How long had he been at the window before you noticed him?"

"I cannot tell. Yet I think he suspects. Before I went to sleep he asked me what brought you here, and whether you were hunting for the treasure, and also what that paper was you were reading to me?"

"And what did you tell him?"

"I would not tell a lie, therefore I said it was an account of the island, written by a connection of yours who had been here long ago." "And then?"

"And then he said he would like to see it. He said he was sure you would show it to him."

"Was he! I am sure I shall do nothing of the kind. Yet I do not know," and Reginald broke off to meditate. Following which he went on again. "But he must see it after all. Barbara, the treasure is his and yours. He must be told."

"No, no," she said. "It is not his--it is yours--yours--yours. Oh! it would be wicked, shocking, to think that you, the only person in the world to whom the chance came of finding out where it is hidden, should not be entitled to it, or at least to half of it. And think, too, of the journey you have made, the expense you have been put to, the trouble you have taken. And all for nothing; to get nothing in return."

"I have got something in return," he said. "Your friendship! Have I not, Barbara?"

"Yes," the girl whispered, or almost whispered, while to her cheeks there came back the rose-blush he loved so much to see. "Yes. But what is that in comparison to what you ought to have?"

"Everything," he replied earnestly. "Everything. Far more, perhaps, to me than you think. But now is scarcely the time to tell you how dear that friendship is. Instead, let us think of what is best to be done."

"At present," she replied, "I am sure the best thing is to keep the secret. If he knew it was there he would get it up somehow--and, I think, he would go away with it. Then you would get nothing."

"But I want nothing."

"I don't care," she replied. "I am determined you shall have half. Oh! promise me, promise me you will tell him nothing unless he agrees to give you half."

At first he again refused, and still again, but at last he agreed to her request, or at least so far consented that he said he would make a proposal to her brother. He would suggest that, on his being willing to divide whatever they should find into three parts--one for Alderly, one for Barbara, and one for him--he would inform him where he thought the treasure was buried. But that he would take no more than a third he was quite resolved, he told her.

"It will be useless," she said, "useless to do that! He will never consent to my having a third; if he did he would take it away from me directly afterwards."

"Would he!" exclaimed Reginald. "Would he! I would see about that."

"At any rate, he would try to do so. Therefore, it would be far better for you to insist on one half. By taking one third you would only get a lesser share, while he would get more."

At last, therefore, Reginald determined he would go and see her brother and, as he said, sound him. Only he was resolved on one thing. Alderly should neither see Nicholas's manuscript nor be told the exact spot where the buried treasure was until they had come to some terms.

"And, remember," he said to her, "if I get one half from him, you take from me what represents one third." To which again the girl protested she would never consent.

After this they parted, she going back to the hut, and he saying he would follow later, since they resolved it would be best to keep the knowledge of their having met that morning from her brother.

When, however, Reginald himself arrived at Alderly's house he found that person gone from it and Barbara alone--standing on the verandah and evidently watching for his coming.

"He has gone down to the shore," she said, "to see if he can find anything of poor father's body. At least that is what he says he has gone for, as well as to see if his boat is capable of being repaired. Alas! I fear he thinks more of the boat than of father's death."

"If he thinks so much of the boat," Reginald remarked, "it scarcely looks as if he has much idea of there being a large treasure to his hand. However, I will go and see him. Where did he come ashore last night?"

"Very near to the Keys," she answered. "Indeed, close by."

So Reginald made his way across the island to that spot, and, when he had descended the crags and reached the small piece of beach there, he saw Alderly engaged in inspecting the wrecked craft which had brought him safely back to his island overnight. It had been at its best but a poor crazy thing--a rough-built cutter of about the same size as the Pompeia, but very different as regards its fittings and accommodation. It was open-decked, with a wretched cabin aft into which those in her might creep for rest and shelter, and with another one forward--but these were all there was to protect them.

"She is badly injured," Reginald said, after having wished Alderly good-morning and received a surly kind of grunt in reply. "I am afraid there is not much to be done to her."

"Mister," said Alderly, suddenly desisting from his inspection, and turning round on the other man without taking any notice of his remark, "I am glad you came here this morning. You and I have got to have some talk together, and we can't do it better than here."

"Certainly," replied Reginald. "What would you like us to talk about?"

"It ain't what I'd like to talk about, but what I am a-going to talk about as you've got to hear. Now, look you here. I ain't no scholar like Barb over there--she was sent to school because the old man was a fool--and I'm a plain man. I've had to earn my living rough--very rough--and p'raps I'm a bit rough myself. But I'm straight--there ain't no man in the islands straighter nor what I am."

"Being so straight, perhaps you will go on with what you have to say. Meanwhile, Mr. Alderly, let me be equally straight with you. Your manner is offensive, and, as you say, 'very rough.' Therefore, I may as well tell you that it doesn't intimidate me. We are both sailors, only I happen to have been in a position of command, while your rank, I gather, has been always more or less of a subordinate one. So, if you'll kindly remember that I expect civility, we shall get along very well together."

Alderly glanced at him, perhaps calculating the strength of the thews and sinews of so finely built a young man; then he said--

"This is my island, you know, mister, and all that's in it."

"Precisely. And you mean that I am in it. Well, so I am. Only, you understand, I can very soon get out of it. The sea isn't yours as well."

"Suppose I wasn't to let you go! Suppose I stopped up the mouth of the river where your craft is a-lying! Then you'd be in it still."

"Yes," said Reginald, "so I should. Only, all the same, I should go when I pleased. I am not a baby--but, there, this is absurd. Say what you want to say."

"Well, I will. What was that paper you was a-reading to my sister in my house last night?"

"A little history of this island, which a forerunner of mine happened to visit some two centuries ago."

"Two cent'ries ago! Oh! It didn't happen to say anything about the treasure old Simon Alderly had stowed away here, did it?"

"Since you ask me so directly, and as it is your business, I will reply at once. It did."

For a moment Alderly's face was a sight to see. First the brown of his face turned to a deeper hue, then the colour receded, leaving him almost livid, then slowly the natural colour returned again, and he said, huskily--

"It did, eh? So I thought, though I don't know why the wench, Barb, told me a lie."

"Are you sure she did tell you a lie? I don't think your sister seems a person of that sort."

"Never mind my sister. Tell me about the treasure--my treasure. I am the heir, you know; I am the only Alderly left after two cent'ries hunting for it--you was right about them cent'ries, mister. Two it was. Where is that treasure? Go on, tell me."

"I have not quite made up my mind about doing that," said Reginald. "It remains for me to decide whether I shall do so just yet."

"It remains for you to decide whether you will tell me where my property is! It does, does it? And what else?--what do it remain for me to do?" and he advanced so close to Reginald and looked so threatening, both from his angry glances and his great height and build, that many a man might have been cowed. But not such a man as Reginald Crafer!

"What do it remain for me to do--eh?" he asked again. "To kill you, p'raps."

Reginald's laugh rang out so loud at this that it might have been heard on the Keys outside--the Keys whereon the treasure was. And it made Alderly's fury even greater than before.

"I could kill you, mister, easy, if I wanted to. And no one would never know of it except Barb. And if she knowed of it, why, I'd kill her too. Anyhow, I mean to have my fortune."

"As to killing," said Reginald, "I don't quite agree with you. You seem to me a powerful kind of a person, without much knowledge, however, of using that power." Here Alderly stamped with fury. "Therefore, you are not so very terrible. However, about your fortune. To begin with, are you quite sure it is yours?"

"Why! whose else is it if it ain't mine?" the bully asked, stupidly now. "Ain't this island mine now father's dead?"

"You say it is, though I am sure I don't know whether you are telling the truth or not. It might be as much your sister's as yours." Alderly burst out laughing, scornfully this time; but Reginald went on. "Your father might have left a will, you know, leaving her a portion of it, or, indeed, the whole, if he didn't approve of your general behaviour."

Alderly laughed again--though now he looked rather white, the other thought; and then he said emphatically:--

"Father didn't leave no papers. So I'm the heir. Girls don't count, I'm told." All of which--both laughter, pallor, and remarks--led Reginald to form a suspicion that whatever papers the elder Alderly might have left had been destroyed.

"I think they do," said Reginald, "and certainly Miss Alderly counts in my opinion. For, if eventually I decide to tell you where your treasure is, she will have to have her portion."

"She will have her portion," said Alderly decidedly, "which will be that I shall look after her. And I suppose you'll want a portion, too."

"Yes, rather," the other replied, remembering that he had promised to make no stipulations about Barbara. So he corrected himself now, and said, "Of course I suppose you will look after her. Well, remembering that, I shall want one half."

"One half!" exclaimed Alderly, almost shouting out the words in his excitement. "One half! My God! One half of all that treasure! Just for coming here to tell me where it is! Why! you must be mad, Mr. Crafer, or whatever you call yourself. Mad! Mad! Why! sooner than do that I'd fetch a hundred o' my pals and mates from all around, from the islands and up from Aspinwall and Colon, and dig the whole place up till we found it. One half!"

"And dig the whole place up!" repeated Reginald. "Just so. Only, you know that when your ancestress, the first Barbara, and her son came here they found the treasure had been removed from the place where Simon left it, and none have ever been able to find it since. Isn't that so?"

"Yes," muttered Alderly, "it is, damn you!"

"Very well. You don't own all the islands round, of which there are some scores, inhabited and uninhabited. And, presuming that the treasure in question has been moved to one of these--and there is no one knows whether it has or not but myself" (he determined not to bring Barbara in further than was necessary)--"what good would all the digging of you and your 'pals and mates' do in this place, Mr. Alderly?"

To which the other could only answer by a muttered curse.