"Come along, Bo's'n," I said, "and let us go and see your curious sight."
The man's palms were turned outward before his face, as if to ward off some fearful sight. His eyes had that look which expresses all that the human eye can of dread. I took his hands in mine and pulled them down.
"Come along," said I, "before the Skipper awakens."
At this he arose and almost ran out through the archway. As soon as we had got well into the passageway the Bo's'n seemed to recover himself. His tone became more natural, and he lapsed into the vernacular commonly employed on board ship.
"Careful, sir," he said, as he walked ahead. "It's the left hand you want to keep against the wall, so turn after me when you get into the passage that leads to the gallery. Softly, please, sir, or we shall scare our bird."
As we drew near the gallery, I heard pistol shots and what I thought were voices. My heart sank down a thousand fathoms below the soles of my shoes. Could those wretches have returned? The lamp was lighted. It had not been extinguished, then, after all. Or perhaps some one had relighted it, some one else who knew the secret of this dreadful place. I crept after the Bo's'n and raised myself from the floor of the gallery as cautiously as he had done. I parted the leaves as gently. The first thing I noticed was that the liquor in the central bowl was bubbling fiercely. It must have been refreshed, for the spirit would have been burned off by this.
Upon the great block of stone from which the Admiral had ruled and ordered a figure was seated. At first I could distinguish nothing but a blaze of light. Rays seemed to dart from the body and shed their sparkles in every direction. They wavered, they scintillated, they gleamed, they flashed. They sent flecks of brilliancy here, there, everywhere! The body of the person on the throne was covered, in the first instance, by nothing but a thin under garment, and over this was what looked like a garment of jewels. Almost every one has seen a suit of armour. No more completely were the knights of old encased in their coats of mail than was the person who sat upon the great block of stone enveloped in and encrusted with jewels and precious stones. The trunk was a mass of brilliant points of light. Chains hung across the foundation of the wonderful dress, and from them flashed, in searching rays, all the colours that the rarest gems can give—red, blue, yellow, green, pale pink, and the fire of the diamond. Each one glowed and sparkled and beamed, and made a central spot of light so bewildering, that our eyes were blinded by the sight. The feet of the figure were encased in jewelled shoes, which were pointed at the toe. A single great emerald glittered on each. From ankle to thigh the legs were clasped round with bands, anklets, and chains. There was a belt of gorgeous gems around the waist. The arms were bound with bracelets from wrist to shoulder. The short fingers were loaded with rings of all kinds. Upon the head was an eastern sort of hat, jewelled from crown to brim, and in the front shone a star of diamonds, above which rose an aigrette of sparkling stones.
In the centre of the star was set a gem so large that it might have graced the crown of the proudest potentate the world ever saw. Every movement made by this remarkable figure lighted up the cavern like a thousand jets of gas. I can compare it to nothing else. We had nothing but lamps to compare it with in those days, and I said to myself, "I have never seen anything that would give a stranger to this gorgeous sight an idea of its magnificence."
There was a tall gold flagon standing on the throne near the figure's feet. I saw the steam escaping.
"He was down a-drawin' it, sir, when I was here before, sir," whispered the Bo's'n.