The Quest of the 'Golden Hope': A Seventeenth Century Story of Adventure
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CHAPTER V
The Chart
"And sixpence."
A voice like the bellowing of a bull burst from the corner of theroom, while its owner began to force his way vigorously through thecrowd towards the rostrum.
"Six shillings."
The peg gave a decided jerk, but still remained in the wax.
"Six shillings and sixpence."
"Seven shillings."
Ping! The metal pin tinkled on the table, the hammer descended, andthe picture was ours.
A muttered oath caused me to turn my head and look behind. Theunsuccessful bidder was a short, bull-necked man, with clean-shaven,red complexioned features, closely cropped hair, save for a bobhanging over his neck; and powerfully-built shoulders and arms.
With a violent effort to conceal his disappointment, the strangerbacked his way through the crowd, and was lost to view.
To disarm suspicion, we remained for nearly another hour; then,having paid the sheriff's clerk the amount of the purchase money, myfather took possession of the painting and the nautical instruments,and handed them over to the care of a lad, with instructions tofollow us.
Having mounted our horses, we rode them at a walking pace, the youthpanting at our heels, for the day was excessively warm.
As we were passing Buckland Rings I chanced to glance over myshoulder at our follower, and in so doing I caught sight of a manstealing cautiously along in the shadow of the trees at about twohundred paces off. It was the unsuccessful bidder for CaptainMiles's picture.
"How say you?" asked my father. "The rascal means no good;" andabruptly wheeling his steed, he trotted back to the edge of theclump of pines that stand betwixt the highway and those relics ofpaganism commonly known in the district as "The Rings".
Yet though we searched the clump and the far side of the hillock aswell, our efforts were in vain.
"Your eyes have deceived you, Clifford," said my sire, as wecantered along the road to overtake the lad with his preciousburden. Though I felt certain on the point, I refrained frominsisting that I was right, and without further happening we reachedour house, though I was continually turning in the saddle to see ifwe were followed by the discomfited rogue.
Having to attend the Verderers' Court that afternoon, my fathercould devote no time to his purchase until the evening, though I wasburning with impatience to see the chart revealed, and felt certainmy parent was in a like state.
"'Tis well done," exclaimed Captain Jeremy with undisguised delight,when he saw the painting. "Now, Captain Hammond, we'll cut thecanvas and get the chart."
"Nay," remonstrated my father, laughing; "the picture cost me sevenshillings, and 'tis a pity to spoil it for the sake of beingoverhasty. Bring a mallet and chisel, Clifford, and we'll prise openthe back."
This was accordingly done, and as the heavy boards were removed fromthe frame a musty piece of parchment, creased in several places, wasdisclosed to view.
"Here 'tis," declared Captain Jeremy, pointing with his yellowfinger. "There lies the _Madre_ treasure."
The chart was a good yard in length, and about three spans inbreadth. It had evidently been drawn with a considerable amount ofcare, the names being neatly inserted. In the top right corner,spanned by a compass, was a scale of leagues, while in the left wasa representation of the mariner's compass. Three strange-lookingvessels, with towering forecastles and poops, and a veritablenetwork of rhumb-lines, covered all the portion of the chart thatwas supposed to represent the ocean. In the bottom left-hand corner,which had been greatly thumb-marked, were the letters "...goRibero", and the date "1529"; and marked by a rough circle, drawn,it seemed, at a later date, was the position of an island, againstwhich appeared the words: "Much golde here--_Madre de Dios_, 1599".
"This is an old Spanish chart," said Captain Miles, "yet 'tisaccurate enough for our purpose. Even Generals Penn and Venables,when they took Jamaica, freely acknowledged that none of our makingcould equal it."
"'Tis a sovereign piece of work," assented my father. "But methinksyou said the position was known only to you? How comes it,therefore, that this chart has the spot marked fair and legibly?"
"Therein have many men been deceived," replied Captain Jeremy. "Thatwas placed thereon for the purpose. Mark you a small cross on theisland?--'tis a good two leagues from the wrongly marked spot. On myword of honour, I can testify that there lieth the treasure. Now,what say you, Captain Hammond? Will you join with me in prosecutinga search? for freely in my gratitude will I share the gains withyou. Yet 'tis but fair to give you full warning, though I heed itnot. 'Tis said that the treasure of the _Madre de Dios_ is under acurse, and only through bloodshed and fire can it be regained. Thiswas the curse of the Friar Pedro Lopez, whom, 'tis avowed, Sir JohnBerkeley threw overboard with his own hands."
"The matter is a weighty one," replied my father, as he proceeded toreplace the back of the frame. "I Even should the treasure be yetundiscovered, there arises the question of the cost of fitting out aship. Were I a man of wealth I'd not be averse from adventuring around sum. As for the friar's curse, I heed it not."
"Neither have I much wealth, seeing that my house and goods were inthe sheriff's hands this day," observed Captain Jeremy, with a grimsmile. "Yet, as I have said heretofore, I have hidden a certain sum.This, though 'tis my all, I would gladly devote to the enterprise;and, forsooth, a man could not give better pledge of his sincerity."
"'Tis not that I doubt your sincerity, and I crave your pardonshould I have touched upon a tender spot. Now, I pray you, explainthe chart, inasmuch as it concerns the treasure island."
Thus encouraged, Captain Jeremy carefully filled his long clay pipe,and resting the glowing bowl on the edge of the table (somewhat, Ifear, to my father's displeasure, though he made no sign on 't), heproceeded to point out the characteristics of the island, the shoalsand currents in its vicinity, the secure anchorage, and where a boatcould make a landing without hazard to itself or its crew.
To all this I listened intently, my eyes glistening with excitement;but, greatly to my disappointment, just as Captain Miles was aboutto explain how and where the _Madre_ treasure lay hidden, my fatherexclaimed:
"The hour is late, Clifford, therefore bid us good night and go tobed."
There was no help for it; I retired from the room reluctantly,pausing for one instant to gaze upon the scene, as the twobronzed-faced seamen bent eagerly over the musty parchment, the keyto the undertaking that was, we hoped, to restore the house ofHammond to its former affluence.