The wonder, the anxiety, and the horror that were manifested by the hearers during this narrative need not be described here. Roach insisted that it was all the doings of Kidd, and maintained that life must yet be sacrificed, before the malign spirits would be appeased, and surrender the treasure. The landlord, on the contrary, rightly viewed it as utter recklessness on the part of the boys. The previous diggers had several times broken into what he called the “drain,” and the boys had done the same thing, and so he declared all would do, till they should organize the new company, and set up a steam engine.
And here it may be as well to state that the new joint stock company was afterwards organized, and the steam engine set up, and a regular series of engineering experiments carried out. Coffer dams were constructed on the shore, and ever so many new pits were dug in many different places. In spite of all, however, the new company was a total failure; the waters of the sea proved stronger than their puny arms; and the place known as the original money-hole was never reached. Scientific men laughed at the theory of Kidd’s treasure, and the drain, as all moonshine, and said that the company might as well try to dig pits in a quicksand; but the stockholders clung to their faith even after they had failed, and to this day talk about the “treasure,” the “money-hole,” the “chest,” and the “drain,” as though they were all solid and well-established facts.
XIX.
The Tale unfolded to Solomon and to Captain Corbet.—How they took it.—A New Departure.—A Bee-line for Home.—An Obstacle.—An old Enemy.—All at Sea literally and figuratively.—Terrible Calamity.—Striking a Rock.—Perilous Position.—Taking to the Pumps.—Preparing for the Worst.
TWO of the party in the Antelope had neither heard of the peril of Bart and Pat, nor known of their escape from it; and to these it was that the information of these things came last of all, yet not with the least profound effect. To Solomon the theory of the man Roach seemed unanswerable, and the very mention of it made his eyes roll about till nothing was visible except two revolving white disks on an ebon ground. His fingers clasped one another nervously, and his jaw fell and remained hanging, as though the owner of it had no further use for it, or had lost all control of it. From Solomon’s former actions on different occasions, he had given indications of a nature that was not untinged with superstition, and a fancy that was ready to kindle and flame up with all those visions of the supernatural which seem so congenial to the negro mind.
“O, de sakes alive!” he exclaimed. “An under neaf de groun—an back agin safe! What! down below dar to dat ar place! Clar, if it don’t make dis yer ole man go nigh stracted to think of. On dat ar island, down in dat ar hole, dar’s a hull slew of ghosts an hobblegobblums ob de wustest sort ob pirates an murderers all lyin in wait, wid de ole boy himself, an a watchin ober de treasure. How ebber youns managed to git out ob de clutches ob dem dar hobblegobblums beats me—does so. Clar, if I ain’t mos ’fraid to think ob it. Darsn’t—no how. Ef I’d ben down dar, I’d gon mad wid fright. But dar couldn’t be any danger ob me ebber goin down—no, sah! You may bet high on dat ar. Not for all de treasure dat Cap’n Kidd ebber buried.”
Captain Corbet heard the harrowing story with a face full of sickening suspense and terrible anxiety. In his gentle and affectionate nature he seemed to suffer all that the boys had suffered. He made no remark whatever, and after it was all told, he remained in silence for some time, looking, in an abstracted way, at vacancy. The others respected his evident emotion, and stood regarding him in solemn silence.
At length he raised his venerable head, and surveyed Bart and Pat with an impressive gaze; after which he looked at each of the other boys.
“Well, well, well!” he said, slowly, and with emphasis; “had I a knowed—had I a thought—had I a s’posed—had I a dreampt of the possee-bility of this, I’d never a ventoored into any harbure till I cud anchor opposite my natyve hum. An I might have expected it—tew. I know how it allus was, an might have expected how it allus was a goin for to be. But this here does clap the climax. And whuffore? What upon airth possessed you to ventoor down under ground on a broken rope, hangin from a rotten beam? Why, it won’t bar a thinkin on. It’s wuss than anythin that’s happened among all that long an eventfuel serious of misfort’ns an clamties that’s ben a befallin of us ever sence we fust assembled together on board this here schewner.