“There’s enough gold there to buy the Indies!” cried Ben Brown, a seaman, as he handed in the chest. “Take care we don’t let it overboard, mates, or the gentlemen won’t forgive us in a hurry.”
“It is more than your lives are worth if you do so!” cried the madmen. “Be careful—be careful, now.”
The boat was loaded, and we pulled away for the ship. Our captain seemed somewhat astonished at the extraordinary appearance of the people we brought on board. The mate and other men of the lost vessel were carefully handed up. They were not heavier than children, but the Messrs Raymonds would not leave the boat till they saw their chest hoisted up in safety. Their first care on reaching the deck was about it, and, going aft to the captain, they begged he would be very careful where it was stowed.
“Stay! Before these gentlemen lose sight of it let it be opened, that there may be no mistake about its contents,” said Mr Merton.
“What, and expose all our hoarded wealth to the eyes of the avaricious crew!” they cried out vehemently. “We shall be robbed and murdered for the sake of it, and this chest will be sent where many others have gone—to the bottom of the sea.”
“You are perfectly safe on board this ship, I trust, gentlemen,” remarked our captain. “Is the chest secured with a key?”
“Whether or not, with our consent never shall it be opened!” exclaimed one of the brothers.
“Then remember I can in no way be answerable for what is found in it when it is opened,” observed the captain.
What new idea came into the heads of the two brothers I do not know, but they instantly agreed that the chest should be opened.
“Call the carpenter,” said our captain, who wanted to bring the matter to a conclusion, and who probably by this time had begun to suspect the sad condition of the two gentlemen.