Peter Cotterell's Treasure

by Rupert Sargent Holland

  XVIII--THE PIRATES ASHORE

  The gentleman in buff coat and breeches turned from the young woman inthe doorway to the four campers, who as they glanced at their own roughouting clothes did look like a line of embarrassed schoolboys standingin front of a teacher.

  "Now that you mention it, Penelope," said Peter Cotterell, "I do note adifference between the garments of these lads and this gentleman andthose we are accustomed to seeing worn by our neighbors. I understand,however, that they come from a distance, and one would hardly expectcostumes to be the same in all the colonies. It occurs to me thatpossibly my new guests might like to make fresh toilets in one of therooms abovestairs. I have a large wardrobe, gentlemen, and it is yoursto choose from."

  "That's a good idea," said Tom. "I wonder if you have anything bigenough to fit my friend David Norton?"

  "When in Rome, do as the Romans do," said Tuckerman. "I'm sure I couldpick out something much better looking than these togs."

  The young woman stepped into the room. Her blue eyes were very merry asshe looked at the awkward row. "I think an apricot coat would suit thisone," she said, nodding at Ben. "Something in puce this one," sheindicated Tom. "Lavender for him," she waved at Tuckerman. "And for thefourth--let me see--" She squinted her eyes and tilted her head on oneside.

  "A beautiful green," Ben suggested. "The color of seaweed in water."

  Miss Boothby laughed, and David flushed a magnificent scarlet.

  "He certainly oughtn't to wear a red coat," said Peter Cotterell. "He'dbe too much all of one color."

  "I like these things I've got on," said David. "They mayn't be verygood-looking, but they suit me first rate."

  "Oh, I like them, too," agreed Miss Boothby, and her quick smile madeDavid flush again, this time at the stubbornness of his tone.

  "If you care to look at my wardrobe--" Cotterell resumed. "Ah, here isJames Sampson now."

  At the door appeared a man in chocolate-colored coat and breeches, hisbrown hair tied in a queue.

  "My steward," stated Cotterell.

  "So you're Sampson, are you?" asked Ben. "I've heard of you, and I'mglad to make your acquaintance. I think I've seen some of yourhandwriting."

  "He writes a legible hand," said Cotterell. "He keeps some of myaccounts. Sampson, please show my guests to the rooms upstairs. Theydesire to change their attire."

  Miss Boothby touched David's arm. "For my sake wear a suit of green,"she whispered.

  David blushed. "Oh, very well," he said awkwardly. "But I guess I'lllook like a frog."

  They followed Sampson into the hall and up the stairs. As they passedopen doors they saw a number of people in gay, colonial clothes. Allthrough the house there was the hum of voices.

  Sampson conducted them into the attic, where many suits and dresses hungon pegs along the walls.

  "Here is the wardrobe," he said. "I think you will find everything youmay need. And yonder is a mirror." With a bow he withdrew.

  "Well," exclaimed David, when the servant was out of earshot, "what doyou make of all this?"

  "Sir Peter is certainly much more amiable than I'd been led to suppose,"mused Tuckerman. "There's nothing of the hermit about him."

  "He's a bird!" chuckled Tom. "I'll bet he gives us a mighty finesupper."

  "I don't blame him a bit for wanting to keep those roughnecks over inBarmouth from melting up his silver," Ben asserted.

  "See here, you fellows," broke in David, "I want to know what's thegame."

  "Game?" echoed Ben.

  "Game?" said Tom. "What do you mean?"

  "Game?" repeated Tuckerman, and his tone was a trifle indignant. "Idon't call it a game when a gentleman like Sir Peter Cotterell invitesus to his party."

  David sat down on a sofa. "All right, all right. I'm the goat, as usual.Fetch me a green coat and trousers."

  "I daresay Miss Boothby will dance with you," Tom cheered him.

  "_You_ may like this sort of thing," said David, "but it's not in myline."

  Ben threw a coat at him. "Take that. Hello, here's a shelf full of wigs.Want to try a white one, Dave?"

  For the next five minutes they looked about the room, at the coats andthe breeches and waistcoats, at the wigs and the other articles thatmade up Sir Peter's wardrobe.

  Then they began to try on the costumes, seeking for the proper sizes.Ben could find nothing that suited him exactly. And while they weretrying on different coats, there came a sound of singing fromdownstairs.

  Ben, holding a coat in each hand, went into the hall and leaned over thebanisters. Men and women were singing a quaint, old-fashioned song inthe dining-room. The tune was fascinating, at times it sounded like ajig, at times there were different parts for the different voices. Benlistened, nodding his head in rhythm with the music. "You ought to hearthis," he called over his shoulder to the three in the attic. "It's aregular musical show."

  The others came out into the hall. Tuckerman beat time on the banisterwith a powdered wig he had been trying to squeeze on his head. Tom,putting his hands on David's shoulders, began to dance to the tune.

  With a grin, Ben turned and went back to the attic. "I'll beat them toit," he muttered, and flinging down the two coats he was holding he tooka yellow satin coat, embroidered with silver lace, from a peg on thewall.

  This coat was a fine sample of the tailor's art. But Ben, having takenit down, stared at the peg from which it had hung, and at the wallbehind it.

  He gave an exclamation, a low whistle of surprise. He knocked on thewall with his knuckles. He glanced through the open door, and saw thatthe others were still occupied with the singing. He backed away from thewall, still keeping his eyes on it. And then he stumbled over afootstool and sat down with a bump on the floor.

  He got up and laid the embroidered coat on a chair by the window. Helooked outdoors. And then for the second time in five minutes he utteredan exclamation. The fishing-smack was standing close inshore on theeastern side of the island. He could see her moving slowly to the north,her canvas plainly visible above the tops of the trees.

  "Gee whillikins!" muttered Ben. "I'll bet my scheme worked!"

  Another minute and he was out in the hall. The singing downstairs hadstopped and there was a clapping of hands.

  "Come here!" ordered Ben.

  The other three followed him into the attic, to the window opening tothe east.

  "Is that your fishing-smack, Dave?" Ben demanded.

  David looked. "By Jove, I believe it is!"

  "Do you want to know where she's going?" was Ben's next question.

  "Shoot," said Tom.

  "She's going to the beach where I found the chest in the hiding-place inthe rocks. Her crew are after that chest, I'll bet you a fiver!"

  The three stared at him in surprise. "What makes you so certain?" askedTuckerman.

  "Because I know. I have reasons for knowing. They're after that chest.They think it's the Cotterell treasure, just as I thought it was."

  "You mean they're going to land on our beach and carry off our chestunder our very noses?" demanded Tom.

  "They are unless we stop them," nodded Ben.

  "Then," said David, "I'm going to stop them. Seems to me there was anold musket somewhere around here."

  There was an old musket in the corner of the attic; there were two, infact; and a fowling-piece and a couple of antique duelling-pistols. Theboys and Tuckerman seized on all the firearms, regardless of the rustthat came off on their clothes, and hurried into the hall.

  Down the stairs they went, making a great noise. And the clatter oftheir feet was so loud that the gentleman in buff and all his friendsran out from the dining-room to see what was the matter.

  "Why, it's an army coming!" cried Peter Cotterell in great surprise.

  The four halted in the front hall.

  "What's the meaning of this!" exclaimed Cotterell. "I invited you toshare my wardrobe, not to ransack the house for weapons. Come, will oneof you please explain?" Indignation
mingled in his tone with surprise.

  "There's a boat off-shore, and her crew is going to land on the beach atthe northern point and steal your treasure chest," said Ben.

  "My treasure chest! My silver plate!" Cotterell raised his hand,clenched it into a fist. "Those rascally rebels from Barmouth!"

  "I don't know where they come from," said Ben. "But we're going to chasethem away."

  "Chase them away?" Cotterell spurned the suggestion. "No, sir. We'llcapture them."

  He looked around at his guests. "Gentlemen, what do you say? Would youlike to bag a few robbers?"

  There were shouts of approval.

  "Not so loud, not so loud," said Cotterell. He turned to the boys andTuckerman. "Can you spare us a few of those extra musquetoons, orwhatever they are, that you found abovestairs? With those, and thefencing swords in the living-room, and a few other odds and ends, weshould do quite nicely. I have a pistol myself. I never go without it inthese revolutionary days. Let me see. I left it in the kitchen, in a poton the shelf, where it would be out of the way."

  The firearms were handed around, and shortly a group offantastically-garbed people stood in front of the house. The campers andCotterell and Sampson were to lead the expedition, and some of theladies insisted on bringing up the rear.

  They had not gone far, however, when Sampson suggested a new idea to theothers, and after a few minutes' talk Cotterell's steward and two of theother men left the main party and turned off in the direction of thecreek.

  Through the woods went the expedition, a long line of people followingBen, who had a musket almost as long as himself stuck over his shoulder,which necessitated his constantly ducking and dodging to avoidoverhanging branches.

  When they reached the northern edge of the woods they divided into threebands. One was headed by Ben and David, the second by Tom and Cotterell,and the third by Tuckerman. Each band was to make its way down to thebeach in front of the rocks by a different path, but not to come outfrom the shelter of the bushes in the ravines until its leader was surethat the crew from the fishing-smack had landed and were looking for thechest. The ladies were to stay in the woods. To this Miss PenelopeBoothby objected. She said that with the riding-crop she had picked upin the house she could easily defend herself against a dozen pirates.Cotterell said, "I'm sure you could, my dear Penelope. But the brightcolors of your gown might give us away. And if we have to crawl throughthe brambles, what would happen to your light silk dress?"

  Ben and David, with two men, threaded their way down a ravine to anetwork of bushes that fringed the edge of the beach. From here, withoutbeing seen themselves, they could see what was going on. Thefishing-smack had come to anchor a hundred yards off shore, four men hadrowed to the island and were now on the beach. Pointing to one of thesemen, David whispered in Ben's ear, "That's my friend Sam. I'd know hisugly mug anywhere."

  "They're after the chest," Ben returned. "Yes, they've found the rightplace. See, one of them's crawling in, with a rope in his hand."

  Three bands of watchers, at three places along the beach, saw the crewof the smack haul the chest out from the crevice. As soon as they had itout they threw open the top. And as they all bent over, eager to layhands on the Cotterell treasure, a voice hailed them from a clump ofbushes not fifty feet away.

  "Throw up your hands!" cried the voice. "Throw them up quick!"

  The crew stood up. They saw a man in buff coat and breeches facing them,a pistol in his hand.

  "Up with your hands!" cried another voice from a bush on the other side.

  The crew hesitated a second. One of them glanced over his shoulder."They've got us cornered!" he muttered, and stuck his hands up over hishead.

  The three scouting parties marched out on to the beach. The muskets andfirearms were leveled at the four men round the chest.

  "It's a regular army!" exclaimed one of the crew. And putting on as muchof an air of bravado as he could with his hands above his head, hedemanded, "What do you want of us? We're not stealing anything. We foundthat chest here."

  "Keep your hands up!" cautioned Cotterell, as he walked forward. "As yousay, you're surrounded by an army. And while your hands are up, I'll asksome of my friends to see if you have weapons in your pockets."

  The search was quickly made, and each man relieved of a pistol.

  "Now," said Cotterell, "you may ease your muscles. But let me tell youthe first one who tries to get away will be knocked down andhandcuffed."

  "All right. We'll go easy," said the man who was known to David as Sam."But I don't know what you're after. We came ashore and saw this box inthat crack in the rocks."

  "It's my box," said Cotterell. "I own everything on this island."

  "Well, take it if it's yours," growled Sam. "We don't want it. I thoughta box on the beach was public property."

  "You think a good many things are public property," Cotterell retorted.He looked at Ben and David. "Have either of you seen this man anywherebefore?"

  "I have," said David. "He's the fellow who carried me off in that boatout there."

  "Has anybody here seen any of these other men?" Cotterell asked next.

  Tom spoke up. "I'm pretty sure they're the fellows Lanky Larry and Ifollowed from the cove to the house called the Gables."

  "And what are they suspected of having done at the Gables?" continuedCotterell.

  "Of stealing some jewels," said Tom.

  The man in the buff coat nodded. "In other words, they are probably notvery desirable citizens to have at large. I think it's my duty to givethem into custody."

  "Oh, come now," said Sam. "You don't really know anything about us.There's your chest. You see we haven't taken anything from it. We weresailing along the coast and we came ashore to have a look at the island.That's a reasonable thing to do."

  "You haven't any right to arrest us!" exclaimed one of the other men."You haven't got a warrant. And who's going to believe what that youngfellow said about seeing us somewhere else?"

  "Perhaps we can supply the authorities with further proof," saidCotterell with a smile.

  There came a shout from someone on board the fishing-smack, and allthose on the beach looked in that direction. A man was waving ahandkerchief over the side of the boat.