Spanish Doubloons

by Camilla Kenyon

  XII

  THE ISLAND QUEEN'S FREIGHT

  I woke next morning with a great thrill of exhilaration. Perhapsbefore the sun went down again I should know the secret of theisland.

  The two divisions of our party, which were designated by meprivately the Land and Sea Forces, went their separate waysdirectly after breakfast, which we ate in the cool of earliestmorning, I could retire to the perusal of the journal which I hadrecovered from the wrecked sloop without fear of interruption.

  I resumed my reading with the entry of February 10.

  This morning, having grown very tired of fish, of which I getplenty every time I go out in the boat by dragging a line behind, Idecided to stay ashore and hunt pig. I set out across the base ofthe point, nearly due south--whereas I had been working along thecoast to the north of the cove. On my right the slope of themountain rose steeply, and as I approached the south shore the riseof the peak became more abrupt, and great jutting crags leaned outover the tree-tops below.

  I reached the edge of the cliffs and found that on my right handthe mountain dropped in a sheer precipice from hundreds of feetabove me straight into the sea. I considered, and made up my mindthat by striking back some distance one might by a very rough climbgain the top of the precipice, and so swing around the shoulder ofthe mountain. I did not feel inclined to attempt it. The cliffsat this point offered no means of descent, and the few yards ofsand which the receding tide had left bare at their foot lednowhere.

  So far I had seen no pig, and I began to think they must all befeeding on the other side of the island. I turned to go back, andat that moment I heard an outcry in the bushes and Benjy cametearing out at the heels of a fine young porker. I threw up my gunto fire, but the evolutions of Benjy and the pig were such that Iwas as likely to hit one as the other. The pig, of course, madedesperate efforts to escape from the cul-de-sac in which he foundhimself. His only hope was to get back into the woods on thepoint. Benjy kept him headed off successfully, and I began to edgeup, watching my chance for a shot. Suddenly the pig came dashingstraight toward me--oblivious, I suppose, to everything but thewhite snapping terror at his heels. Taken by surprise, Ifired--and missed. The pig shot between my knees, Benjy after him.I withstood the shock of the pig, but not of Benjy. I fell,clawing wildly, into a matted mass of creepers that covered theground beside me.

  I got to my feet quickly, dragging the whole mass of vines up withme. Then I saw that they had covered a curiously regular littlepatch of ground, outlined at intervals with small stones. At oneend was a larger stone.

  The patch was narrow, about six feet long--instantly suggestive ofa grave. But swift beyond all process of reason was the certaintythat flashed into my mind. I fell on my knees beside the stone atthe head and pulled away the torn vine-tendrils. I saw the lettersB. H. and an attempt at cross-bones rudely cut into the surface ofthe stone.

  I closed my eyes and tried to steady myself. I thought, I amseeing things. _This is the mere projection of the vision whichhas been in my mind so long_.

  I opened my eyes, and lo, the fantasy, if fantasy it were,remained. I smote with my fist upon the stone. The stone wassolid--it bruised the flesh. And as I saw the blood run, Iscreamed aloud like a madman, "_It's real, real, real_!"

  Under the stone lay the guardian of the treasure of the _BonnyLass_--And his secret was within my grasp.

  I don't know how long I crouched beside the stone, as drunk withjoy as any hasheesh toper with his drug. I roused at last to findBenjy at my shoulder, thrusting his cool nose against my feverishcheek. I suppose he didn't understand my ignoring him so, orthought I scorned him for losing out in his race with the pig. Yetwhen I think of what I owe that pig I could swear never to tastepork again.

  Brought back to earth and sanity, I rose and began to consider mysurroundings. Somewhere close at hand was the mouth of thecave--but where? The cliffs, as I have already said, were toosteep for descent. Nothing but a fly could have crawled down them.I turned to the craggy face of the mountain. There, surely, mustbe the entrance to the cave! For hours I clambered among therocks, risking mangled limbs and sunstroke--and found no cave. Icame back at last, wearily, to the grave. There lay the dust ofthe brain that had known all--and a wild impulse came to me to tearaway the earth with my bare hands, to dig deep, deep--and then withlistening ear wait for a whispered word.

  I put the delirious fancy from me and moved away to the edge of thecliffs. Looking down, I saw a narrow sloping shelf which droppedfrom the brink to a distance of ten or twelve feet below, where itmet a slight projection of the rock. I had seen it before, ofcourse, but it had carried no significance for my mind. Now Istepped down upon the ledge and followed it to its end in the angleof the rock.

  Snugly hidden in the angle was a low doorway leading into blackness.

  Now of course I ought in prudence to have gone back to the hut andgot matches and a lantern and a rope before I set foot in thedarkness of that unknown place. But what had I to do to-day withprudence--Fortune had me by the hand! In I went boldly, Benjy atmy heels. The passage turned sharply, and for a little way wewalked in blackness. Then it veered again, and a faint and far-offlight seemed to filter its way to us through a web woven of thevery stuff of night. The floor sloped a little downward. I feltmy way with my feet, and came to a step--another. I was goingalong a descending passage, cut at its steepest into rough,irregular stairs. With either hand I could touch the walls. Allthe while the light grew clearer. Presently, by another sharpturn, I found myself in a cave, some thirty feet in depth byeighteen across, with an opening on the narrow strip of beach I hadseen from the top of the cliffs.

  The roof is high, with an effect of Gothic arches. Near the mouthis a tiny spring of ice-cold water, which has worn a cleanrock-channel for itself to the sea. Otherwise the cave isperfectly dry. The shining white sand of its floor is above thehighest watermark on the cliffs outside. There is no doubt in mymind that in the great buccaneering days of the seventeenthcentury, and probably much later, the place was the haunt ofpirates. One fancies that Captain Sampson of the _Bonny Lass_ mayhave known of it before he brought the treasure to the island.There were queer folk to be met with in those days in the WesternOcean! The cave is cool at blazing midday, and secret, I fancy,even from the sea, because of the droop of great rock-eaves aboveits mouth. Either for the keeping of stores or as a hiding-placefor men or treasure it would be admirable. Yes, the cave has seenmany a fierce, sea-tanned face and tarry pigtail, and echoed tostrange oaths and wild sea-songs. Men had carved those steps inthe passage--thirty-two of them. In the sand of the floor, as Ikicked it up with my feet, hoping rather childishly to strike thecorner of the chest, I found the hilt and part of the blade of arusty cutlass, and a chased silver shoe-buckle. I shall take thebuckle home to Helen--and yet how trivial it will seem, with allelse that I have to offer her! Nevertheless she will prize it asmy gift, and because it comes from the place to which some kindangel led me for her sake.

  I left the cave and hurried back to the cabin for a spade, walkingon air, breaking with snatches of song the terrible stillness ofthe woods, where one hears only the high fitful sighing of thewind, or the eternal mutter of the sea. As I came out of the hutwith the spade over my shoulder I waved my hand to the _IslandQueen_ riding at anchor.

  "You'll soon be showing a clean pair of heels to Leeward, oldgirl!" I cried. Back in the cave, I set to work feverishly, makingthe light sand fly. I began at the rear of the cavern, reasoningthat there the sand would lie at greater depth, also that it wouldbe above the wash of the heaviest storms. At the end of half anhour, at a point close to the angle of the wall my spade struck ahard surface. It lay, I should judge, under about two feet ofsand. Soon I had laid bare a patch of dark wood which rang undermy knuckles almost like iron. A little more, and I had clearedaway the sand from the top of a large chest with a convex lid,heavily bound in brass.

  Furiously I flung the sand aside until the chest stood
free forhalf its depth--which is roughly three feet. It has handles at theends, great hand-wrought loops of metal. I tugged my hardest, butthe chest seemed fast in its place as the native rock. I laughedexultantly. The weight meant gold--gold! I had hammer and chiselwith me, and with these I forced the massive ancient locks. Therewere three of them, one for each strip of brass which bound thechest. Then I flung up the lid.

  No glittering treasure dazzled me. I saw only a surface of stainedcanvas, tucked in carefully around the edges. This I tore off andflung aside--eclipsing poor Benjy, who was a most interestedspectator of my strange proceedings. Still no gleam of gold,merely demure rows of plump brown bags. With both hands I reachedfor them. Oh, to grasp them all! I had to be content with two,because they were so heavy, so blessedly heavy!

  I spread the square of canvas on the sand, cut the strings from thebags, and poured out--gold, gold! All fair shining golden coinsthey were, not a paltry silver piece among them! And they made asoft golden music as they fell in a glorious yellow heap.

  I don't know how long I sat there, playing with my gold, running itthrough my fingers, clinking the coins together in my palm. Benjycame and sniffed at them indifferently, unable to understand hismaster's preoccupation. He thrust his nose into my face andbarked, and said as clearly as with words, _Come, hunt pig_!

  "Benjy," I said, "we'll leave the pork alone just now. We havework enough to count our money. We're rich, old boy, rich, rich!"

  Of course, I don't yet know exactly what the value of the treasureis. I have counted the bags in the chest; there are one hundredand forty-eight. Each, so far as I have determined, contains onethousand doubloons, which makes a total of one hundred andforty-eight thousand. Estimating each coin, for the sake of evenfigures, at a value of seven dollars--a safe minimum--you get onemillion, thirty-six thousand dollars. And as many of the coins areancient, I ought to reap a harvest from collectors.

  Besides the coin, I found, rather surprisingly, laid between theupper layers of bags, a silver crucifix about nine inches long. Itis of very quaint old workmanship, and badly tarnished. Its moneyvalue must be very trifling, compared to the same bulk of goldencoins. I think it must have had some special character ofsacredness which led to its preservation here. It is strange tofind such a relic among a treasure so stained by blood and crime.

  And now I have to think about moving the gold. First of all I mustget the chest itself aboard the _Island Queen_. This means that Ishall have to empty it and leave the gold in the cave, while I getthe chest out by sea. When the chest is safely in the cabin of thesloop--where it won't leave much room for Benjy and his master, I'mafraid--I will take the bags of coin out by the land entrance. Ican't think of risking my precious doubloons in the voyage aroundthe point.

  Of course I should have liked to get to the task to-day, but afterthe first mad thrill of the great event was over, I found myself asweak and unnerved as a woman. So by a great effort I came away andleft my glorious golden hoard. Now I dream and gloat, playing withthe idea that to-morrow I shall find it all a fantasy. Thepleasure of this is, of course, that all the while I _know_ thiswildest of all Arabian fairy tales to be as real as the most draband sober fact of my hitherto colorless life.

  After all, on the way back from the cave Benjy brought down a pig.So he is as well pleased with the day as I am. Now I am sitting inthe doorway of my cabin, writing up my journal, and trying to calmdown enough to go to bed. If it were not for the swift fading ofdaylight, I would go back to the cave for another peep into thechest. But all round the island the sea is moaning with thatpeculiarly melancholy note that comes with the falling of night.The sea-birds have risen from the cove and gone wheeling off introops to their nests on the cliffs. Somehow a curious dislike,almost fear, of this wild, sea-girt, solitary place has come overme. I long for the sound of human voices, the touch of humanhands. I think of the dead man lying there at the door of thecave, its silent guardian for so long. I suppose he brooded onceon the thought of the gold as I do--perhaps he has been brooding sothese ninety years! I wonder if he is pleased that I, a stranger,have come into possession of his secret hoard at last?

  Oh, Helen, turn your heavenly face on me--be my refuge from theseshuddering unwholesome thoughts! The gold is for you--for you!Surely that must cleanse it of its stains, must loose the clutch ofthe dead hands that strive to hold it!

  February 11. This morning I was early at the cave. Yes, there itwas, the same wonder-chest that I had dreamed of all night long.It was absurd how the tightness in my breast relaxed.

  I began at once the work of removing the bags from the chest andstacking them in the corner of the cave. It was a fatiguing job, Ihad to stoop so. At the bottom of the chest I found a smallportfolio of very fine leather containing documents in Spanish.They bear an official seal. Although I should be interested toknow their meaning, I think I shall destroy them. They weaken myfeeling of ownership; I suppose there is a slight flavor oflawlessness in my carrying off the gold from the island like this.Very likely the little Spanish-American state which has some claimto overlordship here would dispute my right to the treasure-trove.

  I spent so much time unloading the chest and poring over thepapers, trying, by means of my ill-remembered Latin, to make outthe sense of the kindred Spanish, that before I was ready to go formy boat the tide was up and pounding on the rocks below the cave.I find that only at certain stages of the tide is the caveapproachable by sea. At the turn after high water, for instance,there is such a terrific undertow that it sets up a small maelstromamong the reefs lying off the island. At low tide is the time tocome.

  February 12. Got the chest out of the cave, though it was adifficult job. I don't know of what wood the thing is built--someSouth American hardwood, I fancy--but it weighs like metal. Theheavy brass clampings count for something, of course. Luckilythere was no sea, and I had a smooth passage around the point, Ilaughed rather ruefully as I passed the Cave of the Two Arches. Tothink of the toil I wasted there! I wish Benjy had encountered thefateful pig a little sooner.

  Got the chest aboard the _Island Queen_ and stowed in the cabin.Not room left to swing a kitten. Contrived an elaboratearrangement of ropes and spikes to keep it in place in a heavy sea.

  In the afternoon began moving the gold. It's the deuce of a job.

  February 15. Been hard at it for three days. Most of the goldmoved. Have to think too of provisions and water for the trip. Iam making rather a liberal allowance, in case of being blown out ofmy course by a tropical gale.

  February 16. On board the _Island Queen_. Have moved my trapsfrom the hut and am sleeping on the sloop. Want to be near thegold. "Where the treasure is, there will the heart be also," andin this case the body as well. To-morrow I have only to bring thelast of the gold aboard--a trifling matter--and then go out withthe ebb. I would have got all the bags on board to-day, but Inoticed a worn stretch in the cable holding the sloop and stoppedto repair it. I can't have the sloop going on the rocks in case ablow comes up to-night. There are only about a load and a half ofbags left in the cave.

  A queer notion seized me to-day about the crucifix, when I wasbringing it from the cave. It seemed to float into my brain--Ican't say from what quarter--_that I had better leave the crucifixfor Bill_. It wasn't more than he had a right to, really--andthere is no virtue in a cross-bones to make a man sleep well.

  Of course I put the absurd idea from me, and brought the crucifixaboard along with the rest of the gold. I shall be glad when Iknow that the vines have again covered that lonely-lookinggravestone from sight. I can't help feeling my own glorious goodfortune to be somehow an affront to poor unlucky Bill.

  To-morrow one last trip to the cave, and then hey, for home andHelen!

  The diary ended here.

  I closed the book, and stared with unseeing eyes into the greenshadows of the encompassing woods. What happened to the writer ofthe diary on that last trip to the cave? For he had never left theis
land. Crusoe was here to prove it, as well as the wreck of theIsland Queen. And, in all human probability, under the sand whichchoked the cabin of the derelict was the long-sought chest ofSpanish doubloons.

  But what was the mysterious fate of Peter? Had he fallen,overboard from the sloop and been drowned? Had he returned to thecave--and was he there still? It was all a mystery--but a mysterywhich I burned to solve.

  Of course I might have solved it, very quickly, merely bycommunicating the extraordinary knowledge which had come to me tomy companions. But for the present at least I meant to keep thisastounding secret for my own. Somehow or other, by guile or luckycircumstance, I must bring it about that the document I had signedat Miss Browne's behest was canceled. Was I, who all unaided haddiscovered, or as good as discovered, the vainly-sought-fortreasure, to disclose its whereabouts to those who would deny methe smallest claim upon its contents? Was I to see all those"fair, shining golden coins," parceled out between Miss Browne, andMr. Tubbs, and Captain Magnus (the three who loomed large in myindignant thoughts), and not possess a single one myself? Orperhaps accept a little stingy present of a few? I really wasn'tvery covetous about the money, taken just as money; but consideredas buried treasure it made my mouth water.

  Then besides, while I kept my secret I had power; everybody'sdestiny was in my hands. This was a sweet thought. I felt that Ishould enjoy going about with a deceptive meekness, and taking theseverest snubs from Miss Browne, knowing that at any moment I couldblossom forth into the most exalted and thrilling importance.Also, not only did I want a share in the treasure myself, but Iwanted, if possible, to divide it up on a different basis from thepresent. I wanted Cuthbert Vane to have a lot of it--and I shouldhave been much better pleased not to let Mr. Tubbs or CaptainMagnus have any. I did not crave to enrich Violet, and I thoughtAunt Jane had already more money than was good for her. Give heranother half-million, and Mr. Tubbs would commit bigamy, ifnecessary, for her sake.

  And then there was Dugald Shaw, who had saved my life, and whoseemed to have forgotten it, and that I had ever had my arms abouthis neck--and who was poor--and brave--

  Yes, decidedly, I should keep my secret yet while, till I saw howthe cards were going to fall.