We went on deck and piped all hands aft for a conference.
As clearly as I was able I related to the crew the story Van Dorn had told us, and his proposal to us to assist him in getting the treasure. The only points I concealed were the location of the hoard and its probable value.
“If you will join us in this adventure,” I added, “we promise every man three times his regular pay, and in case we get the treasure one-tenth of our share also be divided equally among you. We don’t expect much trouble, yet there may be a scrimmage or so with the Arabs before we get done. Any of you who fear this danger or don’t like the job we’ve undertaken, will be left at Port Said until we return, and we shall think none the worse of those men, who will simply forfeit their prize money. Now, lads, what do you say?”
There wasn’t a dissenting voice among them. They were Americans. Many had sailed with us before, and all were picked men who had proved themselves honest and trustworthy. My father had indeed chosen his crew with care and judgment, and I think we were not much surprised that from Ned Britton down to the meanest sailor all were eager to undertake the venture.
We cleared the port, sailed down to Port Said, and paid our fee to be passed through the Suez Canal to the Gulf of Arabia—no insignificant sum, by the way, but an incidental expense of the enterprise. The Professor had sadly informed us that he had no ready money to meet any of these emergencies; therefore we undertook to pay all expenses.
Our last view of the quay at Alexandria showed the strange Arab still at his post, motionless and staring calmly after us. I noticed that Van Dorn heaved a sigh of relief when we drew away from the harbor and the solitary watcher had faded slowly from our sight.
We were obliged to lie for four days at Port Said before our turn came to enter the canal, for several big liners of the East India Company and many packets of many nations were before us. Having our own engines we did not require a tug, and after a seemingly interminable period, although the distance is only one hundred miles, we emerged from the canal at Suez and Port Ibrahim and found the broad waters of the Red Sea lying before us.
Heading southward we found fair breezes that wafted us at a good speed along the two hundred and fifty miles of barren coast between Suez and Koser. The Arabian desert, bleak and covered in places with bare mountains, was in sight on our right all the way, and the few small villages we passed did not seem inviting.
At length, on the evening of the 12th of February, we anchored in the little harbor of Koser, and although the natives came flocking around us in their miserable fishing boats, offering fruit for sale and doubtless wondering what chance had led so strange and trim a craft as the Seagull to their forsaken port, we made no attempt to land or communicate with them until the next morning.