“Overdid it? Did it for the best?” I ejaculated. “Why, confound you, man, do you mean to tell me that you did those things intentionally?”
“Of course I did, sir,” answered Joe, in much lower tones than my own, obviously with the intention of putting me on my guard. “You see, sir, them chaps for’ard are pretty cute; they’re too old birds to be caught with chaff; and I knew that if I was to get on the blind side of ’em, it’d have to be by means of throwin’ you into a genuine, downright passion with me. Besides, if you’ll excuse me for sayin’ of it, Captain Saint Leger, you ain’t much of a hactor, sir; you’re altogether too fair, and straightfor’ard, and aboveboard to be able to deceive, or fight on equal terms with a lot of sharp, sly, underhand, sneakin’ beggars like them in the fo’c’s’le. So says I to myself, ‘Joe,’ says I, ‘if you wants that crowd to believe as you’re out of the skipper’s favour, and are ready to join ’em in any mischief they may be hatchin’, you’ve got to do somethin’ to make the cap’n real downright savage with yer.’ And that’s why I done it, sir. I’m boun’ to allow that the capsizin’ of that there paint was perhaps a-comin’ of it a leetle too strong; but—”
“Oh, that’s all right, Joe,” I interrupted. “There is no doubt about the fact that you succeeded in making me genuinely angry with you; the important question now is, has it had the effect that you anticipated? Have the other men shown any disposition to take you into their confidence and make you a participator in the plot or whatever it is that you suppose them to be hatching?”
“Well, no, sir, not exactly,” Joe admitted. “But I’m in hopes that they will afore long, if this here unpleasantness between me and you goes on. At present, you see, they don’t know but what it may be a temp’ry thing as’ll soon blow over; but if they finds that you’ve got a sort of spite again’ me, and are always down upon me and drivin’ me to desperation, as you may say, they’ll be pretty certain to have a try to get me over on their side. You see, sir, I’m about as strong as e’er a man aboard here, and if them chaps are up to mischief they’ll nat’rally prefer to have me with ’em instead of again’ ’em.”
“Undoubtedly they will,” I agreed. “But, Joe, you have not yet told me exactly what it is that you suspect. If they were dissatisfied with their food, or their treatment, or their accommodation, would they not come aft and make a complaint, and endeavour to get the matter rectified in that way? But they never have done so; and indeed I cannot imagine what they have to be dissatisfied with: their food is all of the very best description it was possible to obtain; the forecastle is as roomy and comfortable a place as you will meet with in any ship of this size; and, as to work, I do not think they have much to complain of on that score.”
“No, sir, no; it ain’t nothing of that sort,” asserted Joe. “It’s my belief, sir, as they’ve somehow got wind of the treasure, and that it’s that they’re after.”
“The treasure?” I exclaimed in blank astonishment. “What treasure?”
“Why, the treasure as you expects to find on this here island as we’re bound for. Lor’ bless you, sir,” continued Joe, noting the consternation that his unexpected communication had occasioned me, “we all knowed about it in the fo’c’s’le—the old hands, I mean—afore the ship arrived in Sydney Harbour. It was the steward as brought the news for’ard to us one night. He was a curious chap, he was, as inquisitive as a monkey; he always wanted to know the ins and outs of everything that was goin’ on, and he’d noticed you porin’ and puzzlin’ over a paper with a lot of figures wrote on it, and a drorin’ in the middle; and he used to come for’ard and tell us that you’d been havin’ another try to find out what them figures meant. And one night—it was when we was gettin’ well on toward Sydney—he comes for’ard in great excitement, and he says, says he, ‘I’m blowed if the skipper haven’t been and found out at last the meanin’ of that paper that he’s been puzzlin’ over durin’ the whole of this blessed voyage; and what do you suppose it is?’ says he.
“Well, in course we said we didn’t know; and some of us said we didn’t care either, seein’ that it wasn’t any business of ours.
“‘Oh, ain’t it?’ says he. ‘P’r’aps you won’t say it ain’t no business of yours when you know what it is,’ he says.