“It was not, sure enough, sir; but we took it off with us to the schooner, and it went down in her when she finally sunk.”
Another pause, during which Señor Montefalderon and Captain Spike looked significantly at each other.
“Do you think, Jack, you could find the spot where the schooner went down?”
“I could come pretty near it, sir, though not on the very spot itself. Water leaves no mark over the grave of a sunken ship.”
“If you can take us within a reasonable distance, we might find it by sweeping for it. Them doubloons are worth some trouble; and their recovery would be better than a long v'y'ge to us, any day.”
“They would, indeed, Don Esteban,” observed the Mexican; “and my poor country is not in a condition to bear heavy losses. If Señor Jack Tier can find the wreck, and we regain the money, ten of those doubloons shall be his reward, though I take them from my own share, much diminished as it will be.”
“You hear, Jack—here is a chance to make your fortune! You say you sailed with me in old times—and old times were good times with this brig, though times has changed; but if you sailed with me, in old times, you must remember that whatever the Swash touched she turned to gold.”
“I hope you do n't doubt, Captain Spike, my having sailed in the brig, not only in old times, but in her best times.”
Jack seemed hurt as he put this question, and Spike appeared in doubt. The latter gazed at the little, rotund, queer-looking figure before him, as if endeavouring to recognise him; and when he had done, he passed his hand over his brow, like one who endeavoured to recall past objects by excluding those that are present.
“You will then show us the spot where my unfortunate schooner did sink, Señor Jack Tier?” put in the Mexican.