I was still puzzling over these questions when I was startled out of my reverie by a light step beside me; and, turning, I beheld Miss Onslow regarding me with eyes so brilliant that I could almost fancy they were gemmed with tears.
“So,” she exclaimed playfully, “you have been fighting another wordy battle with that Irish wretch; and this time, having kept your temper under control, you have emerged victorious from the conflict. But oh, Mr Conyers,” she continued, her voice suddenly changing to a tone of deep earnestness, “I cannot express to you how profoundly sorry I am that you should thus continually be harassed and worried on my account—oh yes, I heard everything; I was in the cabin, and the skylight was open, so I could not help hearing what passed. I know that these men are taking advantage of my presence to coerce and terrorise you by means of threats of violence toward me, and I cannot help feeling how dreadfully you are hampered and embarrassed by having me to look after and protect. But you have never wavered or faltered for one instant, you have forgotten all about yourself and have thought wholly and only of me; and—and—I think it only right you should know how greatly I appreciate your goodness, and—how—how—grateful I am for all that you have done and are still doing for me.”
There undoubtedly were tears in her eyes as she concluded; but a certain wild, delirious hope, that had half formed itself as I noted the enthusiasm with which she had begun her speech, died out again as she faltered and hesitated, and finally concluded in as sober, impassive, conventional a tone as though she had been thanking me for procuring a cab for her on a rainy night. I hastened to assure her that she was quite mistaken in supposing that her presence aboard the brig was an embarrassment to me; that, on the contrary, it was the only pleasant feature of the whole adventure, so far as I was concerned; and then, fearing lest her gracious mood should tempt me to say more than she would be willing to listen to, I hastily turned the conversation toward O’Gorman’s document, which I placed in her hands, asking her to read it and tell me what she thought of it.
She read it carefully through once, and then handed it back to me with the remark:
“I think it is perfectly genuine—everything appears to point in that direction—and I have no doubt whatever that the gems will be found in the spot indicated.”
“I am now inclined to that opinion myself,” said I. “But how is the spot indicated to be found? The writer, you will observe, mentions two black rocks, but he furnishes no clue whatever as to their whereabouts. Where are we to look for these rocks? and how are we to identify them?”
“That particular passage,” answered she, “is, I admit, decidedly obscure. Yet I think the context furnishes a clue to its elucidation. It reads thus:—‘anchor anywhere not closer than within a dozen fathoms of the island,’—which I take to mean this small island, or islet, opposite us. The island was evidently the most prominent object in the writer’s mind when he penned the words immediately following those that I have just quoted; and I therefore conclude that it is somewhere in that small island—a most suitable hiding-place, I think you will admit—that the treasure lies concealed. And it is there also, I think, that the two black rocks should be searched for. As to how the rocks are to be identified, the writer speaks of them in such a manner as to suggest that there is no possibility of mistaking them; and I therefore infer that there are two rocks—and two only—that can possibly be associated with the instructions given in the paper.”
“Yes,” said I; “I quite see your line of reasoning; and I believe you are right. At all events, the suggestion is so reasonable that it is quite worth following; and it is upon those lines that I shall advise O’Gorman to go to work. Ah, by Jove! look there! I believe the fellow actually means to stick to his bargain at last: here come the men with the sails and so on that I have asked for; and to-night I hope you will be able to rest in comparative coolness out here on deck, with an awning, and all other proper shelter from the dew.”
The boat, with half a dozen hands in her, was soon alongside, and by midday we had not only an awning spread over the whole of the after-deck, from the taffrail to the mainmast, but also a spacious canvas sleeping-tent under it, divided into two compartments, and so arranged that my companion might enjoy the most absolute privacy. The steward also came off, and resumed possession of his usual quarters, and as he was one of the quietest and most respectable men of the party, was as good a cook as “the doctor” himself, and seemed genuinely anxious to do his best for us, it soon appeared as though we were about to be favoured with a spell of peace and quietness.
Meanwhile, O’Gorman religiously refrained from obtruding himself upon us until I had dismissed the boat’s crew upon the completion of their labours, when he came aboard, ostensibly to ascertain whether everything had been done to my satisfaction, but actually—as I soon discovered—to claim the assistance that I had undertaken to afford him. And this, of course, I was more than ready to give, now that I had obtained from him what I wanted, being feverishly anxious to bring the entire adventure to a conclusion as speedily as possible, in order that I might be free to convey Miss Onslow in all safety and honour to her father’s arms. So I threw myself heartily into the spirit of the search, accompanying O’Gorman and a search-party to the islet, and actively participating in a hunt for the two black rocks. But, after persevering for more than three hours, it became evident that the little spot was so completely overgrown with tangled, impenetrable jungle that but one course was open to us, that of clearing the ground by cutting down and destroying the network of creepers that choked up the spaces between the tree-trunks. This proved to be a lengthy and arduous undertaking, it being necessary to cut the undergrowth away in blocks, as it were, and then drag the detached masses to the water’s edge and tumble them overboard. But after four days of this work, at the end of which there was very little result to show for our labour, we found evidences of the islet having at some previous period been cleared by means of fire, the workers having encountered several charred and blackened tree-stumps; so we determined to adopt a similar course, the vegetation being dry and in excellent condition for such an experiment. Accordingly, the undergrowth was attacked with knives and axes on the weather side of the island, and the detached masses, instead of being hove overboard, were allowed to remain and thoroughly dry in the sun. Then, when our accumulation of dry brushwood seemed sufficient for our purpose, it was set alight, and in half an hour the entire island was a blazing mass, there being just wind enough to fan the flames and cause them to spread. In two hours the operation was complete, the once verdant and beautiful spot having been converted into an ugly patch of flat and fire-blackened soil, some fifty acres in extent, with two conspicuous outcrops of black rock protruding from the ashes and débris of the conflagration.