There was no help for it, and he put on the diving-dress and went down, Dutch being summoned on deck directly after, to find Lauré and his men all armed; and he felt that resistance was vain, and he, too, went down, and then with Mr Parkley worked to clear away the sand and weeds that had collected in the hold of the vessel.
A few ingots were found and sent up directly, but it was evident to both, as they compared notes, that the work of many days must follow before they could get at the bulk of the treasure that lay below.
And so another day passed, Dutch still finding, to his delight, as he went below, that the desire for the treasure was still the prominent feeling in Lauré’s mind.
The next morning, at daybreak, Mr Wilson was first astir, and Dutch had just joined him to sit by the cabin window and enjoy the fresh morning breeze, which was deliciously cool, when a bright, sharp chirp was heard, and the canary flew down through the broken skylight and alighted on the table.
“Dick, Dick!” cried Mr Wilson, with the tears of joy in his eyes, “pretty Dick;” and the little thing flew on to his finger, turning its head first on one side and then on the other, as it looked up in his face with its bright beady eye.
“What’s that under its wing?” said Dutch, sharply.
“Paper,” was the reply; and, sure enough, tightly tied beneath the little pinion was a tiny piece of doubled-up paper, which, on being opened out, bore these words in pencil:
“Keep a steady hand at the wheel, and wait. Friends on board. Work and wait.”
“Can that mean treachery?” said Dutch doubtfully; and, going to their berths, he read the words softly to the captain and Mr Parkley, and asked their opinions as well as that of the doctor.
“No,” said the latter; “that’s no treachery, but from a friend.”