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by Camilla Kenyon


  XI

  MISS BROWNE HAS A VISION

  Perhaps because of the secret excitement under which I waslaboring, I seemed that evening unusually aware of the emotionalfluctuations of those about me. Violet looked grimmer than ever,so that I judged her struggles with her mundane consciousness tohave been exceptionally severe. Captain Magnus seemed even beyondhis wont restless, loose-jointed and wandering-eyed, and performedextraordinary feats of sword-swallowing. Mr. Shaw was very silent,and his forehead knitted now and then into a reflective frown. Asfor myself, I had much ado to hide my abstraction, and turned coldfrom head to foot with alarm when I heard my own voice addressingCrusoe as Benjy.

  A faint ripple of surprise passed round the table.

  "Named your dog over again, Miss Jinny?" inquired Mr. Tubbs. Mr.Tubbs had adopted a facetiously paternal manner toward me. I knewin anticipation of the moment when he would invite me to call himUncle Ham.

  "I say, you know," expostulated Cuthbert Vane, "I thought Crusoerather a nice name. Never heard of any chap named Benjy that livedon an island."

  "When I was a little girl, Virginia," remarked Aunt Jane, with theair of immense age and wisdom which she occasionally assumed, "mygrandmother--your great-grandmother, of course, my love--wouldnever allow me to name my dolls a second time. She did not approveof changeableness. And I am sure it must be partly due to yourgreat-grandmother's teaching that I always know my own minddirectly about everything. She was quite a remarkable woman, andvery firm. Firmness has been considered a family trait with us.When her husband died--your great-grandfather, you know, dear--sherose above her grief and made him take some very disagreeablemedicine to the very last, long after the doctors had given uphope. As some relation or other said, I think your Great-AuntSusan's father-in-law, anybody else would have allowed poor JohnHarding to die in peace, but trust Eliza to be firm to the end."

  Under cover of this bit of family history I tried to rally from myconfusion, but I knew my cheeks were burning. Looks of deepeningsurprise greeted the scarlet emblems of discomfiture that I hungout.

  "By heck, bet there's a feller at home named Benjy!" cackled Mr.Tubbs shrilly, and for once I blessed him.

  Aunt Jane turned upon him her round innocent eyes.

  "Oh, no, Mr. Tubbs," she assured him, "I don't think a single oneof them was named Benjy!"

  The laughter which followed this gave me time to get myself in handagain.

  "Crusoe it is and will be," I asserted. "Like Great-GrandmotherHarding, I don't approve of changeableness. It happens that a girlI know at home has a dog named Benjy." Which happened fortunatelyto be true, for otherwise I should have been obliged to invent it.But the girl is a cat, and the dog a miserable little high-bredsomething, all shivers and no hair. I should never have thought ofhim in the same breath with Crusoe.

  That evening Mr. Shaw addressed the gathering at thecamp-fire--which we made small and bright, and then sat well awayfrom because of the heat--and in a few words gave it as his opinionthat any further search in the cave under the point was useless.(If he had known the strange confirmatory echo which this awoke inmy mind!) He proposed that the shore of the island to a reasonabledistance on either side of the bay-entrance should be surveyed,with a view to discover whether some other cave did not exist whichwould answer the description given by the dying Hopperdown as wellas that first explored.

  Mr. Shaw's words were addressed to the ladies, the organizer andfinancier, respectively, of the expedition, to the very deliberateexclusion of Mr. Tubbs. But he might as well have made up his mindto recognize the triumvirate. Enthroned on a camp-chair sat AuntJane, like a little goddess of the Dollar Sign, and on one hand Mr.Tubbs smiled blandly, and on the other Violet gloomed. You sawthat in secret council Mr. Shaw's announcement had been foreseenand deliberated upon.

  Mr. Tubbs, who understood very well the role of power behind thethrone, left it to Violet to reply. And Miss Browne, who carriedan invisible rostrum with her wherever she went, now alertlymounted it.

  "My friends," she began, "those dwelling on a plane where theMaterial is all may fail to grasp the thought which I shall putbefore you this evening. They may not understand that if adifferent psychic atmosphere had existed on this island from thefirst we should not now be gazing into a blank wall of Doubt. Myfriends, this expedition was, so to speak, called from the Void byThought. Thought it was, as realized in steamships and otherephemeral forms, which bore us thither over rolling seas. How thencan it be otherwise than that Thought should influence ourfortunes--that success should be unable to materialize before apersistent attitude of Negation? My friends, you will perceivethat there is no break in this sequence of ideas; all isremorseless logic.

  "In order to withdraw myself from this atmosphere of Negation, forthese several days past I have sought seclusion. There in silenceI have asserted the power of Positive over Negative Thought, gazingmeanwhile into the profound depths of the All. My friends, ananswer has been vouchsafed us; I have had a vision of that forwhich we seek. Now at last, in a spirit of glad confidence, we mayadvance. For, my friends, the chest is buried--in sand."

  With this triumphant announcement Miss Higglesby-Browne sat down.A heavy silence succeeded. It was broken by a murmur from Mr.Tubbs.

  "Wonderful--that's what I call wonderful! Talk about the eloquenceof the ancients--I believe, by gum, this is on a par withCongressional oratory!"

  "A vision, Miss Browne," said Mr. Shaw gravely, "must be aninteresting thing. I have never seen one myself, having no talentsthat way, but in the little Scotch town of Dumbiedykes where I wasborn there was an old lady with a remarkable gift of the secondsight. Simple folk, not being acquainted with the proper terms tofit the case, called her the Wise Woman. Well, one day my aunt hadbeen to the neighboring town of Micklestane, five miles off, and onthe way back to Dumbiedykes she lost her purse. It had threesovereigns in it--a great sum to my aunt. In her trouble of mindshe hurried to the Wise Woman--a thing to make her pious fatherturn in his grave. The Wise Woman--gazed into the All, I suppose,and told my aunt not to fret herself, for she had had a vision ofthe purse and _it lay somewhere on the food between Micklestane andDumbiedykes_.

  "Now, Miss Browne, I'll take the liberty of drawing a moral fromthis Story to fit the present instance: _where on the road betweenMicklestane and Dumbiedykes is the chest_?"

  Though startled at the audacity of Mr. Shaw, I was unprepared forthe spasm of absolute fury that convulsed Miss Browne's countenance.

  "Mr. Shaw," she thundered, "if you intend to draw a parallelbetween me and an ignorant Scotch peasant--!"

  "Not at all," said Mr. Shaw calmly, "forebye the Wise Woman was amost respectable person and had a grandson in the kirk. The pointis, can you indicate with any degree of exactness the whereaboutsof the chest? For there is a good deal of sand on the shores ofthis island."

  "Oh, but Mr. Shaw!" interposed Aunt Jane tremulously. "In thesand--why, I am sure that is such a helpful thought! It showsquite plainly that the chest is not buried in--in a rock, youknow." She gave the effect of a person trying to deflect athunderstorm with a palm-leaf fan.

  "Dynamite---dynamite--blow the lid off the island!" mumbled CaptainMagnus.

  "If any one has a definite plan to propose," said Mr. Shaw, "I amvery ready to consider it. I have understood myself from the firstto be acting under the directions of the ladies who planned thisexpedition. As a mere matter of honesty to my employers, I shouldfeel bound to spare no effort to find the treasure, even if my owninterests were not so vitally concerned. Considering itsimportance to myself, no one can well suppose that I am not doingall in my power to bring the chest to light. Tomorrow, if the seais favorable, it is my intention to set out in the boat todetermine the character of such other caves as exist on the island.I'll want you with me, lad, and you too, Magnus."

  Captain Magnus looked more ill at ease than usual. "Did you thinko' rowin' the whole way round the dinged chunk o' rock?" heinquired.

/>   "Certainly not," said Mr. Shaw with an impatient frown. So theman, in addition to his other unattractive qualities, was turningout a shirk! Hitherto, with his strength and feverish ifintermittent energy, plus an almost uncanny skill with boats, hehad been of value. "Certainly not. We are going to make a carefulsurvey of the cliffs, and explore every likely opening asthoroughly as possible. It will be slow work and hard. As tocircumnavigating the island, I see no point in it, for I don'tbelieve the chest can have been carried any great distance from thecove."

  "Oh--all right," said Captain Magnus.

  Mr. Tubbs, who had been whispering with Aunt Jane and Miss Browne,now with a very made-to-order casualness proposed to the two ladiesthat they take a stroll on the beach. This meant that thetriumvirate were to withdraw for discussion, and amounted to noticethat henceforth the counsels of the company would be divided.

  Captain Magnus, after an uneasy wriggle or two, said he guessedhe'd turn in. Cookie's snores were already audible betweensplashes of the waves on the sands. The Scotchman, Cuthbert Vaneand I continued to sit by the dying fire. Mr. Shaw had got out hispipe and sat silently puffing at it. He might have been sitting insolitude on the topmost crag of the island, so remote seemed thatimpassive presence. Was it possible that ever, except in the sweetmadness of a dream, I had been in his arms, pillowed and cherishedthere, that he had called me _lassie_--

  I lifted my eyes to the kind honest gaze of Cuthbert Vane. It wasas faithful as Crusoe's and no more embarrassing. A great impulseof affection moved me. I was near putting out a hand to pat hissplendid head. Oh, how easy, comfortable, and calm would be a lifewith Cuthbert Vane! I wasn't thinking about the titlenow--Cuthbert would be quite worth while for himself. For a momentI almost saw with Aunt Jane's eyes. _Fancy trotting him out beforethe girls_! stole insidiously into my mind. How much more dazzlingthan a plain Scotch sailor--

  I turned in bitterness and yearning from the silent figure by thefire.

  I think in an earlier lifetime I must have been a huntress andloved to pursue the game that fled.

 

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