“I think not, sir, decidedly,” said Pugh. “Those pieces of metal must have been under water for a great length of time.”
“You are right, Mr Pugh,” said the Cuban, whose face brightened. “You are a man of sound sense. They have been under water three hundred years.”
He smiled at the young Englishman as he spoke, but the other felt repelled by him, and his looks were cold.
“How did you get those bars and ingots?” said Mr Parkley, abruptly.
“From amongst the rotten timbers of an old galleon,” said the Cuban. “But where?”
“That is my secret. Thirty feet below the surface at low water.”
“Easy depth,” said Mr Parkley, thoughtfully. “But why did you not get more?”
“Sir, am I a fish? I practised diving till I could go down with a stone, and stay a minute; but what is that? How could I tear away shell, and coral, and hard wood, and sand, and stones. I find six such bars, and I am satisfied. I seek for years for the place, and I know three huge mines of wealth for the bold Englishmen who would fit out a ship with things like these”—pointing to the diving suits—“with brave men who will go down with bars, and stay an hour, and break a way to the treasure, and there load—load that ship with gold and silver, and perhaps rich jewels. Sir, I say to you,” he continued, his face gradually glowing in excitement, “are you the brave Englishman who will fit out a ship and go with me? I say, make a written bond of agreement to find all we shall want in what you call apparatus and brave men. I show you the exact place. I take your ship to the spot to anchor, and then, when we get the treasures, I take half for myself, and you take half for yourselves. Is it fair?”
“Yes, it sounds fair enough,” said Mr Parkley, rubbing his nose with a pair of compasses. “What do you say, Pugh?”
“I hardly know what to say, sir. The project is tempting, certainly; but—”