“I have heard of this treasure before,” she said, “all the Netherlands has heard of Brant’s hoard. Also dead Hans there let me know that perhaps it might come this way, for in such matters he thought that I could be trusted,” and she smiled grimly. “And now what would you do?”
“Fulfil our orders,” said Foy. “Hide it if we can; if not, destroy it.”
“Better the first than the last,” interrupted Martin. “Hide the treasure, say I, and destroy the Spaniards, if Mother Martha here can think of a plan.”
“We might sink the ship,” suggested Foy.
“And leave her mast for a beacon,” added Martin sarcastically.
“Or put the stuff into the boat and sink that.”
“And never find it again in this great sea,” objected Martin.
All this while Martha steered the boat as calmly as though it were daylight. They had left the open water, and were passing slowly in and out among islets, yet she never seemed to be doubtful or to hesitate. At length they felt the Swallow behind them take the mud gently, whereon Martha led the way aboard of her and threw out the anchor, saying that here was her berth for the night.
“Now,” she said, “bring up this gold and lay it in the boat, for if you would save it there is much to do before dawn.”
So Foy and Martin went down while Martha, hanging over the hatchway, held the lighted lamp above them, since they dared not take it near the powder. Moving the bags of salt, soon they came to the five barrels of treasure marked B, and, strong though they were, it was no easy task for the pair of them by the help of a pulley to sling them over the ship’s side into the boat. At last it was done, and the place of the barrels having been filled with salt bags, they took two iron spades which were provided for such a task as this, and started, Martha steering as before. For an hour or more they rowed in and out among endless islands, at the dim shores of which Martha stared as they passed, till at length she motioned to them to ship their oars, and they touched ground.