"What does he say? Has he heard good news about the hidden treasure?
"Yes; but wait till after breakfast and you can read it."
I almost danced with delight at the information, vague as it appeared, for during the last three months news of my uncle's progress in search of the mysterious treasure that was to restore the fortunes of the family had been disappointingly scarce; and, now that there were indications of a flowing tide in our affairs, it was hard to realize that success might be within measurable distance.
My story opens in the year 190—, when I was sixteen years of age, and during the few years that have since elapsed I may truthfully say, without boasting, that few boys have ever experienced a greater amount of peril and adventure than has fallen to my lot in the search for the "San Philipo" treasure.
My name is Reginald Trevena, and I live at Polruan, in a house that has been in the possession of our family for centuries; for the Trevenas are reckoned amongst the oldest stock in all Cornwall. Go back to the time of the Spanish Armada; or the stirring wars of the Great Rebellion, when Cornwall was the scene of many a sanguinary conflict between Cavalier and Roundhead; or the equally exciting period of the Napoleonic Wars; search the contemporary records of those days, and I'll warrant you'll find a Trevena plays a conspicuous and honourable part.
We are of an old seafaring family, and our house contains many mementoes of our ancestors' prowess. For instance, there is the silver-mounted sword presented to my great-grandfather, Jasper Trevena, in recognition of his gallant and successful defence of the Falmouth packet "Restormel Castle" against a French privateer of twice its size; and another relic is the silver-braided cocked hat worn by an ancestor, Humphrey Trevena, at the battle of Vigo Bay in 1702.
It is this Humphrey Trevena who is morally responsible for our search for the "San Philipo" treasure. Briefly, the facts of the case are these. Humphrey was apparently a rough sea-dog who tempered his fierce roving spirit with a peculiar spice of superstition, which, at that period, was rampant in Cornwall. In fact, even at the present day, dread of the supernatural has a strong hold upon the poorer classes of the Duchy, although modern education has done much to banish the firm belief in witchcraft that our forefathers held.
But to return to Humphrey Trevena. From papers in our possession it appears that in 170—, this sturdy sea-captain, who commanded the privateer "Anne," of thirty guns, received orders from Commodore Sir Charles Wager to make an independent cruise, in company with the "Leopard," of twenty-four guns, to intercept a Spanish treasure-ship, the "San Philipo," which was bound from Callao for Cadiz. The Spaniard had a rich cargo, including fifteen chests of pieces-of-eight, twenty sows of silver, and gold plate, the total value being equivalent to £500,000 of our money.
The "San Philipo" arrived at Coquimbo in the month of May of that year, and left on the following June 1. The "Anne" and her consort passed through the Straits of Magellan early in the latter month, but were shortly afterwards overtaken by a furious gale off the Madre de Dios Archipelago, during which the two vessels lost touch with one another. The "Leopard" alone rejoined Sir Charles Wager, and nothing more was seen of the "Anne." Neither did the "San Philipo" reach Cadiz. As far as information could be obtained from the Admiralty, the history of the "Anne" comes to an abrupt termination; but we have in our possession documents which prove conclusively, that Captain Humphrey Trevena did achieve his purpose and intercept the "San Philipo," contrary to popular belief.
The log of the "Anne" is before me as I write; scores of musty pages covered with a crabbed handwriting, made all the more puzzling by reason of the superfluity of flourishes that characterized the literary style of the eighteenth century.