“Well, yes,” said I; “I must confess that such a contingency has suggested itself to me; but they will require my help to get their booty home and landed; and I will make it my business to discuss this matter with O’Gorman in such a manner as to convince him that he cannot do without me. And meanwhile I must see if I cannot forestall any possible action on their part by devising some plan which will enable us to effect our escape in one of the boats when within easy distance of land.”
“Do you think such a thing possible?” she demanded, in much more animated tones than those she had shortly before used.
“Why, yes,” answered I. “That is to say, we must make it possible; we must endeavour to devise some definite scheme, to be carried out at the very first favourable opportunity, and we must then devote all our energies to so arranging matters that when the moment arrives everything will be in readiness.”
We discussed this topic at some length, with no very definite result, however; and finally, as it appeared to be exercising a distinctly depressing effect upon Miss Onslow’s spirits, I changed the subject, and we made our way down to the boat again, and so aboard the brig.
But as we entered the inner lagoon we found that all hands had knocked off work and had crossed to their camp; and presently O’Gorman made his appearance at the entrance of one of the tents, beckoning us to approach. I waved my hand in assent, but made as though to put Miss Onslow aboard the brig first, whereupon O’Gorman hailed that he wanted us both to land and look at what had been found. So I put a bold face upon it, and ran the boat in upon the beach, from which we walked together up to O’Gorman’s tent.
As we entered, the first thing that met my gaze was a rusty and earth-grimed iron chest, measuring about two feet square by perhaps sixteen inches deep, on either side of which sat a man with a brace of cocked pistols in his belt, evidently on guard. The chest had been fastened by two heavy padlocks of distinctly antiquated design, but these had both been smashed, and the lid prised open, not without inflicting some damage to the hinges. I noticed, almost at once, that O’Gorman and his companions wore a decidedly perplexed and slightly chagrined air, and the reason therefor soon became apparent.
“So,” said I, in a congratulatory tone, “you soon found your treasure, then. I hope it proves to be worth all the trouble you have taken to secure it?”
“Begorra, thin, it’s mesilf that’d be glad to be able to say ‘yis’ to that,” answered the Irishman. “But I’m puzzled; I can’t make it out,” he continued. “This is what we’ve found,”—giving the chest a kick that betrayed a certain amount of temper—“but beyant a gallon or so of pearls there’s nothin’ in it but pebbles; and I’d like ye to say whether you think them pebbles is worth annything or not.”
So saying, O’Gorman raised the heavy lid of the chest, disclosing an interior subdivided into four compartments by thin hardwood partitions running diagonally from corner to corner. One compartment was packed as full as it would hold of pearls, nearly all of which—if one might judge by the top layer—were of very fair size, while a few, scattered here and there, were exceptionally fine; and their exquisite satiny sheen seemed to indicate that they were all of the first water. Miss Onslow could not suppress a cry of admiration and delight as she gazed upon them—which tribute to their beauty—and consequent value—seemed to afford considerable satisfaction to the finders.
“May I touch them?” asked I of O’Gorman.