by L K Harcourt
‘Oh my God,’ exclaimed Dan. ‘This is simply amazing!’
‘What is it Dan, what have you found,’ shouted the others.
Dan put his hands in the chest and scooped out as much as he could hold.
A few seconds later, the silhouette of his head and shoulders could be seen in the dim light.
‘John,’ cried Dan, ‘shine your torch in my direction.’
John aimed the beam up at Dan who crouched on the edge of the shelf, his palms overflowing with the priceless metal.
John flashed the torch at Louise and Emma to gauge their reaction. They both stood dumbstruck, eyes wide, mouths agape, clutching each other in astonishment.
‘There is a fortune here,’ Dan called down. ‘An absolute fortune. Countless hundreds of gold and silver coins and dozens of gold ingots. And to think this has lain undiscovered for 230 years!’
Dan reverently put what he had taken back into the chest. He gazed in wonder at it all. He noticed that some of the silver coinage had been cut into triangular segments, like slices of pizza. It puzzled him – why chop up a coin, would that not destroy its value? Perhaps not, being silver.
On the heads of several was the bust of an impressive, Roman emperor-like figure, similar in style to the English George I. He picked out a silver coin. The Latin inscription read ‘Carolus III Dei G 1777’. That must mean King Carlos III and – just like on British coins – dei gratia, by the grace of God. It must have been minted in 1777 during Carlos III’s reign.
Dan flipped it over and on its tail was what looked like an old version of the Spanish coat of arms beneath a crown, with an R to its left and the number eight to the right. R8? Was that the value of the coin? And if it was Spanish, didn’t they use the word Royals or Reales in those days as a currency?
He stared again at the cut-up pieces of silver. Pieces of a coin worth eight Royals – of course, a coin that could be cut into eight– Pieces of Eight! He trembled as the realisation struck him. The coins so beloved of pirates and smugglers long ago; the coins immortalised by Long John Silver’s parrot in Robert Louise Stevenson’s Treasure Island – the coins right there in front of him, hundreds upon hundreds of them!
For a moment, Dan almost expected to hear a parrot squawk, and then to wake up from a remarkable dream. But there was no parrot, and this was no dream. He picked out a gold coin, its near perfect lustre dazzled under torchlight. It too was from the reign of Carlos III – minted in 1775. Would this be what they used to call a doubloon?
Dan resisted the temptation to examine the hoard any further. Now was not the right time. He passed the torch back down to John who helped him get down. The others mobbed him like a footballer who had just scored a goal, only there was enough gold and silver there to make them richer than many footballers.
‘Let us spare a thought for the poor sailors who drowned on board that ship and for their captain Felipe who salvaged all this treasure and stowed it away here so carefully, and who never got to see it again,’ said Dan, determined not to get carried away.
They all paused for a moment or two to reflect on that, before Emma said, quietly, ‘what happens now?’
‘My suggestion would be that we go back up to the lighthouse and get ourselves properly equipped with powerful torches and spare batteries and crates for transporting the treasure back with us,’ said Dan.
The others agreed. They had no means of safely doing so, not wishing to risk picking up the old chest for fear it would crumble under the weight. And they needed proper lighting. Almost numb with delight at their discovery, they retraced their steps down the tunnel and climbed up the iron rungs into the outbuilding. John and Dan pushed the shaft cover back down but left the removed flagstone where it was, since they would return soon enough.
As they stepped out of the door of the outbuilding and walked over the rocky path to the lighthouse, they looked about them, their eyes blinking in the bright natural light. Astonishingly, the storm had blown itself out. The wind had vanished. There was barely a ripple disturbing the surface of the sea, nor more than a hint of foam. The water washed over the rocks around the island with a gentle caress. They looked up at fluffy clouds in a pale blue sky and the sun, now heading west, shone down benevolently.
‘How unbelievable that the weather could have cleared up so suddenly,’ said Emma.
‘I told you, that’s what it does round here,’ said Louise. ‘It’s often very different from the weather forecast as well. Storms spring up from nowhere and then suddenly, they’re gone again.’
‘Do you know what I fancy?’ added Louise. ‘Now that the weather has cleared up, why don’t we get the boat out and motor over to the shore and buy some powerful torches and loads more batteries, and anything else we need, and then how about we go out for a celebration down the pub in Porthlevnack? There’s a wonderful old inn where smugglers and wreckers used to gather – and as we’ve just discovered treasure from a shipwreck, I think it would be the perfect place to celebrate.
‘There’s no need to go back down the tunnel this evening is there?’
‘No,’ said John, ‘looking at the sun in the western sky. ‘In fact, if we are going ashore to get some better torches, which is a good idea, then I would sooner we did leave it until tomorrow. I don’t really fancy heading back down that tunnel with the light fading – even though it will be dark down there anyway.’
The others agreed. It was somehow important to feel that it was bright daylight outside before venturing down an old, musty undersea tunnel.
‘The only thing is, I’m not sure if I can afford to go out for a restaurant meal or anything,’ said Emma, nervously.
‘Emma, don’t be daft – we can all afford it now, can’t we Dan? Surely that treasure belongs to us as the finders?’ said Louise.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘well at least half of it should. We can certainly afford the finest food and drink the village has to offer – as a deserved celebration, I would say. We’ll have to put it on the Visa card for now of course!’
‘What about lights on the boat if it’s dark when we come back?,’ enquired Emma.
‘We’ll use the torches we’re about to buy,’ pointed out Louise. ‘They don’t have to be green and red for port and starboard, not on a little boat like this and we’re not going far.’
‘So to put it another way, Emma, stop worrying!’ said Dan. ‘You’ll not only be able to afford a very good meal tonight, but you’ll be able to finish the rest of your course without ever having to worry about money again. This will transform your life.’
Dan looked at Emma with the tenderness which comes from genuine affection, and to his delight it was reciprocated. Emma flung her arms round him and hugged him tight.
‘And it’s all thanks to you, you’re wonderful Dan. Thank you so much.’
‘Hey give Louise some credit too,’ said John, grinning, ‘it’s all thanks to her that we’re here in the first place.’
‘That’s quite true,’ conceded Emma. ‘But none of us would have had a clue about that treasure without Dan’s hard work.’
‘Quite so,’ said Louise, ‘I totally agree with you. Dan’s an absolute hero. Thanks to him we’re rich, rich, yippee!’ she shouted in delight, jumping from rock to rock.
‘Louise, calm down a bit, sounds carry easily over water,’ cautioned John.
Dan looked across the now tranquil sea. ‘It’s wonderful, incredible news, but please let us not forget that this bay is the graveyard of all those sailors who drowned – to whom we owe our good fortune,’ he said, quietly.
His soft, grey eyes were fixed on the watery depths and he did not notice the way Emma winced at Louise’s ebullient rejoicing, nor the glance of admiration and appreciation she reserved for him.
CHAPTER 9
The four of them went up to their bedrooms in the lighthouse to get changed – they had all got dusty and mucky that day, clambering into cellars, outbuildings, tunnels, caves and crevices. But not a bad achievement consideri
ng the weather had been too bad to allow them off their tiny island.
Emma slipped her jeans and top off and Louise took the chance to make a playful lunge at her, hoping for a quick session before they went out. But Emma was having none of it.
‘Sorry Louise, but I’m a bit tired, it’s been such an emotional rollercoaster of a day. Let’s just go out tonight and chill with the others. I’m not in the mood for passion right now,’ she said.
‘Ok, but can I make one teensy-weensy request,’ said Louise, slyly. ‘Put a nice short skirt on. Then I’ll sit opposite you later in the pub and give you a bit of loving with my toes if I get the chance.’
It took a moment for Emma to realise what Louise was suggesting. No-one had ever offered to stick their feet up her skirt in a pub before. It was a crude suggestion although she couldn’t help feeling a tingle in her groin at the idea.
‘I should warn you my little piggies are very good at removing knickers from beneath a skirt,’ added Louise with a wink.
‘Well you better not have sharp toenails,’ retorted Emma, brushing her shoulder-length blonde hair vigorously and wondering to herself exactly how many women Louise had been with before to have developed such a talent.
Meanwhile, in their bedroom the other side of the staircase, John and Dan were sprawled out on their mattresses.
‘Oh mate, what a day, what a blooming day. If I had read an account of what we have just done in one of your many books I wouldn’t have believed it,’ declared John with a shake of his head and a glance at the mattress next to him. ‘And you are one amazing four-eyed swot to be able to translate that stuff.’
‘Not really,’ replied Dan, modestly. ‘If it had been in French, any of us could have done it. You ought to pick up some Spanish you know, you’re a natural at French, you wouldn’t find it much of a leap. But it was lucky I had my Spanish dictionary with me, otherwise I would have struggled.’
‘It just goes to show,’ laughed John, ‘you should always make sure you take your Spanish-English dictionary on holiday, whether it’s to Tenerife or Magaluf or even, a lighthouse off the coast of Cornwall.’
Dan smiled. John was good at silly dialogues like this. He was much better at the banter than himself and although he couldn’t usually respond in kind, he did find it funny. ‘I don’t want to be ungrateful on a day like today,’ replied Dan, giving his spectacles a polish with his T-shirt, ‘but do you know what would make my cup runneth over?’
‘Let me guess,’ said John. ‘If you could get it together with Emma. Well that really is a bit ungrateful you know, on a day when we’ve found had such marvellous good luck. I think that would be enough for most people. And look, I had high hopes for me and Louise but the pair of them, they’re an item and so both our hopes are dashed. Who would have thought it hey – what a waste! At least we’ve found a stash of buried treasure today, which I feel is a kind of reasonable compensation.’
Dan smiled again. John would have shrugged and looked on the bright side if they’d come back with an old farthing. He was a good friend in many respects. Dan was a calming, sensible influence on him and John’s chat and good cheer would cut through Dan’s intensity and introspection.
‘Right,’ said John. ‘Let’s give the girls a call and get moving. I want to sink some ice cold continental beer tonight – out of a tankard while I count my pieces of gold and silver. Just like the smugglers and wreckers of old. Ah ha!’
Dan dryly pointed out that such characters would more likely have drunk a warm ration of English ale or porter than cold imported lager.
The sea remained calmer than a garden pond when the four students set out in Louise’s motorboat bound for the shore. It was a lovely summer’s evening, with the jagged rays of the sinking sun flickering across the water.
‘Look at it,’ said Emma, ‘like a great golden coin disappearing from sight. For a second it almost made her shiver. ‘Do you suppose our treasure is safe where we left it?’ she added.
The others all chuckled. ‘It’s been lying there undisturbed since 1780,’ pointed out Dan, ‘it couldn’t be in a safer place.’
Louise moored the boat alongside the wooden jetty in the harbour and they clambered out, mindful of the need to do a little shopping before anything else.
‘There’s a hardware store down the lane off the high street,’ said Louise. ‘We’ll get good torches and batteries there. Let’s make sure we don’t talk about what we want them for ok? I know the shopkeeper in there and he’s a nice chap but loves to know everyone’s business.’
‘Now what you be wanting these powerful torches for missy, I can’t help wondering?’ said Will the shopkeeper as they trooped up to his till with four new ones and plenty of batteries. ‘Going potholing or exploring them old smugglers’ caves, I’ll be bound.’
‘Oh if we told you that, Will, we’d have to shoot you,’ replied Louise with a grin. ‘Hey, talking of which, I don’t suppose you know of any tunnels from the shore heading under the sea bed into the bay?’
The others glanced at Louise, surprised at her indiscretion. What about her own warning not to blurt out their business to this chap?
The shopkeeper returned her smile, but advised, ‘you won’t find anything I’m afraid, all these tunnels have been gone over with a fine toothcomb long ago! And most if not all have been closed. There’s one I know of running under the sea but that was shut off long ago. No folk can go down it now.’
Little did you know, they all thought as they left. They picked up some more bread and milk while they were out and returned to the boat, bobbing up and down by the jetty, and pushed everything carefully into the small luggage hold.
‘Right all,’ said Louise, glancing at her watch. ‘It’s 5.30pm, why don’t we have a little stroll around and stretch our legs a bit and then I’ll find us somewhere nice for a few drinks and a meal. Unless you’ve got any better ideas, I thought it would be fun to go to the old smugglers’ inn just up the hill here, which was a favourite haunt of smugglers and wreckers in the old days. It’s still a pub to this day and when you go inside you can almost feel yourself going back in time.’
‘Do they do ice-cold continental lager?’ asked John.
‘Yes and plenty more besides, and they serve up some pretty good food for a pub,’ said Louise. ‘It’s not cordon bleu or anything, but decent pub grub, like fish and chips, pies, casseroles, scampi, that sort of thing.’
That sounded perfect to the others and after another nice walk around Porthlevnack, they all headed towards the aptly-named Smugglers Tavern. After the incredible day they’d had this was exactly where they wanted to relax – and having been cut off by the storm, it was nice to come ashore for a meal out and a few drinks.
As they walked through the oak door into the lounge, John, Dan and Emma looked around approvingly at their surroundings. This was how a pub should be, with dark, sturdy oak beams in the ceiling and an oak-panelled bar in the same sombre stain. The whitewashed walls bore mystical watercolours of the hidden coves and beaches around the coastline.
Dan and Emma in particular loved pubs like this – both glanced in delight at the eccentric little nooks set into the walls, the quaint shelves lined with antique books; the lanterns and rough-hewn lead pewter tankards hanging from the beams. Emma could easily imagine a smuggler sitting here, supping ale under a flickering lantern.
‘What a mysterious place, full of distant memories,’ she gasped, her eyes lighting up. She noticed Dan looking around with the same wonder and for a moment their eyes met and they held that gaze, as if its magic was transmitted between them.
‘I’ll get some drinks in,’ said John, thirsting for his ice-cold continental lager. He wasn’t disappointed either, there was some excellent Bavarian pilsner on tap. His fellow treasure hunters opted for the same, save for Dan who was rarely prised from his old favourite – Guinness.
‘Why don’t we grab that nice window seat over there,’ suggested Dan.
As they had got there
early, there was plenty of space. The others nodded and Dan sat on one of the matching oak armchairs in the far corner. Emma slid into the ornately carved oak pew opposite.
To Louise’s mild irritation, that only left her the option of sitting diagonally to Emma or alongside her. She felt rather peeved. Didn’t Emma want to sit opposite her and feel her toes exploring between her legs? Seems as though she’d rather spend the evening looking fondly into Dan’s eyes. Louise grudgingly and rather jealously made do with joining her on the pew – perhaps she might be able to discreetly put her hand up later, she hoped.
John came back with a tray of four very drinkable-looking pints and set them down on the table.
‘Cheers!’ he said, raising his glass, ‘here’s to an amazing day, and maybe an amazing future for us all!’
‘Do you really think so,’ asked Louise, her mind switching from carnal to pecuniary satisfaction. ‘Does that treasure truly belong to us? I suppose it should if it is deemed to be treasure trove. I had a friend who found a few trinkets once that were declared treasure and she got paid thousands for them.’
The prospect of having suddenly come into fabulous wealth was still only beginning to sink in with the four students, who were much more used to being poor and barely able to scrape by.
‘I would guess it may well belong in part at least to your parents if they are deemed to own that tunnel, and in part to us four as the finders,’ said John. ‘After all, the lighthouse and island belong to your parents and that tunnel leads directly there. Also, the diary of the Spanish captain has been kept in the cellar. Therefore, to my way of thinking, anything found in an underground cave only accessible from your lighthouse would mean your family have a strong claim on it.’
‘Well come on, ‘ chipped in Emma, taking a gulp of her pint – she didn’t normally drink pints, but tonight was a special occasion – surely Dan deserves the biggest cut since there is no way without his efforts at translating the diary that the treasure would ever have come to light.’
