“That I have investigated, and I think no one connected with Alva or the Spanish government has ever been near the place since it was let to Señora Sebastian. But,” adds the merchant, rubbing his head, “that is what frightens me! Do you suppose such an astute man would take no precautions to inform himself of the [[224]]safety of his treasure? Mark my words, there’s something in that Alva’s statue that we don’t know of.”
“If you’re afraid to make the venture, I am not,” says Guy determinedly. “I’ll take the risk.”
“Well, perhaps it were better you go in first,” returns Bodé Volcker. “You have the greatest interest in the matter. Then, if it should come to fighting, you would have a thousand chances to my none.”
So the matter is arranged, and Bodé Volcker does his part of the work thoroughly. Four hours after this the Norwegian and French sailors are drunk; the next day they awake tossing upon the open ocean, aboard a ship bound for the Indies, a cruise that will last three years. At dusk the merchant comes to Chester, who waits in his counting room, and whispers: “Mother Dumb Devil is dead drunk also; do your work.”
“Show me the place.” And Guy, taking Corker with him, is led by Niklaas to a street just on the town side of the Esplanade, where, among tumble-down dwellings as wretched and dirty as itself, stands the house of Señora Sebastian. One of Guy’s sailors lets them in, the merchant not even entering the place, only pointing it out from round the corner.
“Where is the mistress of the house?”
“Dead drunk upstairs, captain,” whispers the man. “She was raving an hour ago, but now she’s good for an all night snore—she’s a rum one—dumb, but snores like old Neptune himself.”
Inspecting the woman, Chester finds the report correct, and leaving a rum bottle handy to keep her quiet in any event—he comes down stairs and says hastily “To work.”
With this Guy and Corker enter the cellar and get to business by the light of a flickering oil lamp.
To Chester’s delight, after taking up the four stones in the center, he finds a heavy slab, made easy to handle by an iron ring inserted in its top. But it will not move to their combined strength until they use a crowbar. A hasty examination discloses that it has evidently been undisturbed for a year or two, and that time has settled and cemented it into its place. As they pry it up a little shaft is uncovered with a ladder leading down it.