CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE MYSTERIOUS BARQUE.

When Leslie returned to the camp he found the tent lighted up, and Flora and dinner awaiting him. He was tired, for the day had been an unusually fatiguing one; and when a man is tired he usually prefers to be silent. Nevertheless, he recapitulated in detail to Flora all that had been in his mind during his walk home; and finally put the question to her whether she would rather leave in the barque, or in the cutter; the former, perhaps, offering her more comfortable—because more roomy— quarters than the latter.

"What have you decided to do, Dick?" she asked.

"Oh," he replied, "so far as I am concerned, I have quite made up my mind to adhere to my original plan of going home in the cutter, and taking our treasure with me."

"Then, of course, that settles everything," said Flora, simply. "Where you go, Dick dear, I go also—that is to say, if you will have me." This last with a most angelic smile.

There was but one reply possible to such a remark, so that matter was settled; after which, having lighted his pipe, he strolled over to the hut, to discuss with Nicholls and Simpson the unexpected appearance of the barque in their neighbourhood.

"If she means to touch here, as I feel pretty certain that she does," remarked Leslie, after he had related to the two men the result of his observations, "she will doubtless dodge off and on until daylight—as of course she cannot know the whereabouts of the channel through the reef— and then we can go out in the canoe and pilot her in. Meanwhile, what do you two men think of doing? Are you going to keep to your arrangement with me; or would you prefer to get the skipper of the barque to take you?"

Nicholls regarded Leslie with some surprise. "I hope, sir," he said, "that you don't want to cry off your bargain with us! I've already been planning in my mind what I'll do with that five hundred—"

"Certainly not," interrupted Dick, with a laugh; "I have no wish to cry off my bargain, as you term it. I merely wish you to understand that I will not attempt to hold you to it if you would prefer the barque to the cutter. The barque would doubtless be more comfortable than the cutter in heavy weather."

"May be she would, or may be she wouldn't," observed Nicholls. "Anyhow, the difference wouldn't be so very great, one way or the other. But there's no five hundred pound to be got out of the barque; and I'm bound to have that money, Mr Leslie—"

"Same here," cut in Simpson.

"All right," laughed Leslie. "Then that matter is settled for good and all; so we need say no more about it."

"Question is: What's she comin' here for?" inquired Simpson, volunteering a remark for the first time on record.

"Oh, who can tell?" returned Leslie. "She may be a whaler—although I do not believe that she is—putting in here in the hope of finding water. That is the only explanation that has occurred to me as accounting for her presence in this locality—which is really a long way out of any of the usual ship tracks. She is the first craft that I have sighted since my arrival upon this island. But no doubt we shall learn to-morrow—"

"Why, there she is," interrupted Nicholls, pointing. "By Jingo, just look at that; coming in through the channel as confidently as though she had been in the habit of sailin' in and out of it every day of her life! And with nothing better than the starlight to see her way by. Well, dash my wig, but that's a rum go, and no mistake!"

It was even as he said; for while the three men stood there talking together the shadowy form of the barque, under her two topsails and fore-topmast staysail, was seen gliding into the lagoon close past Cape Flora—her skipper evidently perfectly acquainted with the exact situation of the entrance channel—and presently her topsail halliards were let run and the sails clewed up, the rattle of the gear and the cheeping of the blocks being distinctly audible to the three on the beach. Then a minute or two later came the splash of the anchor and the rumbling rattle of the cable through the hawse-pipe, and the barque was seen to swing to her anchor.

"Well, it is perfectly clear that the man who has charge of her has been in here at least once before," remarked Leslie. "Evidently he knows the place quite well. Now, I wonder what it is that has brought him here; I would give a trifle to know. And, of course, I could readily find out by taking the canoe and paddling off aboard to ask the question. But I will not do that; and, furthermore, it may be just as well not to let those people know—until to-morrow morning, at any rate—that there is anybody on the island, therefore pleads take care, both of you, that no light shows from your hut to-night. And I will just step up to the tent and give Miss Trevor a similar caution. Good night, men. We had better be stirring by dawn to-morrow morning." So saying, Leslie turned away, and made his way to the tent, where he not only cautioned Flora against showing a light, but took such simple precautions as were required to render it impossible that the necessary lights in the tent should be seen from the barque. Then, this done to his satisfaction, he lighted his pipe and, taking the telescope—which was both a day and a night-glass—once more sauntered down to the beach to watch the proceedings aboard the strange vessel. For although he could find no legitimate reason or excuse for the feeling, it was an undeniable fact that the appearance of this barque upon the scene affected him disagreeably, producing within him a vague sense of unrest that almost amounted to foreboding. Why had she come to the island? That was the question that persistently haunted him, and to which he could find no entirely satisfactory reply. That her presence there was accidental he could not believe, else how came it that the person in charge of her knew so well where to find the channel giving access to the lagoon, and entered it so confidently, not even waiting for the daylight to enable him to see his way in? And as he mused thus he employed himself in intently watching the barque through the night-glass, again noting the fact that the vessel was curiously short-handed, for her people furled only one topsail at a time, and—so far as he could make out—had only four men available for the job, instead of at least twice that number. Furthermore, he noticed that, even for that small number of men, the time consumed in rolling up and stowing the sails was quite unconscionable, arguing the existence of an exceedingly lax discipline— if any at all—aboard the craft. He estimated that it occupied those four men fully two hours to furl the two topsails; and when it was at last done and the men had descended to the deck with exasperating deliberation, he came to the conclusion that, if the night-glass was to be trusted, the job had been done in a most disgracefully slovenly manner.

He patiently watched that barque until all visible signs of life aboard her had vanished, and then he walked thoughtfully back to the tent and turned in—Flora having retired some time before. But ere he could get to sleep he was disturbed by the sounds of a hideous uproar that came floating shoreward from the stranger; and, going again into the open air to hear more clearly, he presently recognised the sounds as those of discordant singing, finally recognising the fact that a regular drunken orgie was in progress aboard the craft—still further evidence of a singularly lax state of discipline.

Leslie's couch was a sleepless one that night; for the fact was that, taking everything into consideration, he could neither account satisfactorily for the presence of the barque at the island, nor convince himself that her errand there was an altogether honest one. Therefore, with the first faint flush of dawn he was again astir; and rousing Flora and the two men, he bade them get their breakfasts forthwith and make the best of their way out of the camp ere the barque's people should have had an opportunity to see them and become aware of their presence on the island. And he further gave Nicholls and Simpson instructions to proceed with and complete the rigging of the cutter and the bending of her sails, in readiness for getting under way at a moment's notice. Unfortunately the Flora had still to be provisioned and watered for her voyage; and it was just this fact, and the possibility that the strangers might be disposed to interfere with these operations, that discomposed him. But for this he would most cheerfully have marched himself and his little party out of the camp and left it, with everything it contained, to the mercy of the barque's crew—whom he had already, in some unaccountable fashion, come to look upon as outlaws. He gave the men the strictest injunctions that Flora was to forthwith take up her quarters aboard the cutter, while they— Nicholls and Simpson—were to camp in the natural fortress to which he had that same afternoon drawn their attention, holding it against all comers, and on no account leaving it altogether unguarded, either day or night. As for himself, he announced that he would remain, as sole occupant of the camp, to meet the strangers and ascertain the reason for their visit; after which his further actions would be guided by circumstances.

Leslie was of opinion that, after the orgie of the preceding night, the crew of the barque would be in no particular hurry to turn out; and his surmise proved to be quite correct, for although he kept a keen watch upon the vessel it was not until nearly nine o'clock that he detected the first signs of movement on board her, in the shape of a thin streamer of smoke, issuing from the galley funnel. He then watched for the usual signs of washing down the decks, the drawing of water, the streaming of the scuppers, and so on, but could detect nothing of the kind; neither was the bell struck on board to mark the passage of time— two additional indications of the absence of discipline that still further increased his fast-growing uneasiness respecting the character of his unwelcome visitors. As soon as the light was strong enough, it may be mentioned, he had taken a look at the barque through his telescope, and had read the words "Minerva, Glasgow," painted across her counter; he thus knew that the vessel was British, as, indeed, he had already suspected.

Now, it was Dick's purpose to learn as much as he possibly could about the strangers, and to let them know as little as possible about himself—and nothing at all about his companions—in return, until he had had an opportunity to get some notion of their true character. He had therefore determined to pose as a solitary castaway; and now, in that character, proceeded down to the beach, stepped into the canoe, and began to paddle laboriously off toward the barque. For he knew that one of the first things to be done by the skipper of that vessel would be to bring his telescope to bear upon the island, and this would immediately result in the discovery of his tent, his pile of salvage from the brig, the hut, and all the litter upon the beach; and as it was consequently impossible to conceal the fact of his presence upon the island, he judged that the natural action of such a castaway as himself would be to eagerly seize the first opportunity to communicate with a calling ship.

The canoe being a big, heavy craft for one man to handle, it took him a full hour to paddle off to the barque; but it was not until he was within a hundred yards of her that he was able to detect any open indication of the fact that his presence had been discovered. Then he saw a big, burly-looking individual come aft along the vessel's full poop, and deliberately bring a pair of binocular glasses to bear upon him. He at once ceased paddling, and, placing his hands to his mouth, hailed—

"Minerva ahoy!"

"Hillo!" came the response across the water, in a gruff voice that accurately matched the build and general appearance of the owner.

"May I come aboard?" inquired Dick resuming his paddle.

"Ay, ay; come aboard, if ye like," was the somewhat ungracious response.

Without further parley Leslie paddled up alongside under the starboard main channels, and, flinging his painter up to an individual who came to the side and peered curiously down upon him over the bulwarks, scrambled up the side as best he could in the absence of a side-ladder, and the next moment found himself on deck.

He cast an apparently casual but really all-embracing glance round him, and noted that the barque was evidently just an ordinary trader, with nothing in the least remarkable about her appearance save the extraordinary paucity of men about her decks. Under ordinary circumstances and conditions, at this hour all hands would have been on deck and busy about their preparations for the carrying out of the object of their visit to the island—whatever that might be; instead of which the man on the poop, the man who had made fast his painter for him, and the cook—a fat-faced, evil-looking man with a most atrocious squint—who came to the galley door and stared with malevolent curiosity at him—were the only individuals visible. It was not, however, any part of Leslie's policy to exhibit surprise at such an unusual condition of affairs, so he simply advanced to the poop ladder, with the manner of one a little uncertain how to act, and, looking up at the burly man who stood at the head of the ladder, glowering down upon him, said—

"Good morning! Are you the captain of this barque?"

"Ay," answered the individual addressed; "I'm Cap'n Turnbull. Who may you be, mister? and how the blazes do you come to be on that there island? And how many more are there of ye?"

"As you see, I am alone, unfortunately," answered Leslie; "and a pretty hard time I have had of it. But, thank God, that is all over now that you have turned up—for I presume you will be quite willing to give me a passage to the next port you may be calling at?"

"Give ye a passage?" reiterated the burly man, scornfully; "give nothin'! I'm a poor man, I am, and can't afford to give anything away, not even a passage to the next port. But if you'm minded to come aboard and work your passage, you're welcome. For I'm short-handed, as I dare say you can see; and it's easy enough to tell that you're a sailor-man. It you wasn't you wouldn't be here, would ye?" This last with a grin that disclosed a set of strong irregular, tobacco-stained teeth, and imparted to the speaker the expression of a satyr.

The conversation thus far had been conducted as it had started, with Leslie down on the main deck and Turnbull on the poop. The incongruity of the arrangement now seemed to strike the latter, for he added—

"Come up here, mister; we can talk more comfortably when we're alongside of one another; and you can spin me the yarn how you come to be all alone by yourself on yon island."

In acceptance of this graciously worded invitation, Leslie ran lightly up the poop ladder and, slightly raising his cap, said—

"Permit me to introduce myself, Captain Turnbull. My name is Leslie,"—with emphasis—"and the recital of the chain of circumstances which ended in my being cast away upon the island yonder will be so lengthy that, with your permission, I will smoke a pipe as I tell it."

And therewith he calmly drew his pipe from his pocket and, filling it, lighted up. Meanwhile his manner, language, and appearance had been steadily impressing the other man, who insensibly began to infuse his own manner with a certain measure of respect as the interview lengthened itself out.

Having lighted his pipe, Leslie proceeded to relate the whole story of his adventure, beginning with his embarkation on board the Golden Fleece, and ending up with the stranding of the Mermaid, but carefully suppressing all reference whatsoever to Miss Trevor; and representing himself not as an ex-naval officer, but as an amateur yachtsman. He was careful also to mention nothing about the existence of the cutter, but, on the other hand, dwelt at some length upon the idea he had entertained of building a craft capable of carrying him and a sufficient stock of provisions away from the island. "I doubt, however, whether I should ever have managed it, single-handed. But your arrival renders all further trouble on that score unnecessary," he said, in conclusion.

"Well, yes," returned Turnbull, somewhat more genially than he had yet spoken; "there's no call for you to worry about buildin' a boat now, as you says, 'specially as you're a good navigator. You can come home with us, workin' your passage by navigatin' the ship. For a good navigator is just exactly what I happens to want."

"Ah, indeed! Cannot you rely upon your mate, then?" inquired Leslie, blandly.

"My mate?" ejaculated the burly man; "well, no, I can't. That's to say," he continued confusedly, "he's the only navigator I've got now, and—well, no, I can't depend upon him."

"Do you find, then, that your own observations and his yield different results?" asked Leslie, still in the same bland, quiet manner.

"My own observations?" reiterated Captain Turnbull. "I don't take no observations. Ye see," he added, looking hard at Leslie's impassive face to discover whether the latter had noticed anything peculiar in such an extraordinary admission, "my sight's a little bit peculiar; I can see ordinary things plain enough, but when it comes to squintin' through a sextant I can't see nothin'."

"Ah, indeed; that must be exceedingly awkward for you, Captain," returned Leslie. "I am not surprised at your anxiety to secure the services of another navigator. By the way, how long do you propose to remain here? I should like to know, so that I may make my preparations accordingly."

"Well," answered Turnbull, "there's no particular reason for you to hurry; I s'pose half an hour 'll be about time enough for you to get your few traps together and bring 'em off, won't it?"

"Oh yes," answered Leslie, nonchalantly, "that time will amply suffice. I will do so at once, if you like."

"There's no occasion for hurry, as I said just now," retorted Turnbull. "Now that we're here I think I shall give the men a spell and let 'em have a run ashore a bit. In fact, I think I could do with a week ashore there myself. Most lovely place it looks like, from here. By-the-bye, how long did you say you'd been on that there island?"

"A trifle over nine months," answered Leslie.

"Over nine months!" ejaculated the other in tones of intense surprise. "Well, nobody'd think as you'd been a castaway for nine months, to look at ye. Why, you look strong and healthy enough, and as smartly rigged as though you'd just stepped out of the most dandy outfitter's in the Minories!"

"Oh, but there is nothing very wonderful in that," laughingly protested Leslie. "Nine months of life, practically in the open air all the time, is just the thing to keep a man fit, you know; while as for my 'rig,' I found a big stock of clothes among the Mermaid's cargo, and I have drawn freely upon that."

"Nine months on the island," repeated Turnbull, still dwelling upon that particular fact; "why, I s'pose you know every inch of the ground ashore there by this time?"

There was a certain ill-suppressed eagerness in the tones of the man's voice as he asked this question that acted very much as a danger-signal to Leslie. It seemed to suggest that thus far the man had merely been fencing with him, but that he was now trying to get within his guard; that, in short, the object of the Minerva's visit to the island was nearing the surface. He therefore replied, with studied carelessness—

"No, indeed I do not. On the contrary, I know very little of it—not nearly as much as I ought to know. I have been to the summit once, and took a general survey of the island from that point, and I have wandered for a short distance about the less densely bush-clad ground on this side of the island; but that is about all. The fact is that I was much too keen upon saving everything I possibly could out of the brig to think of wasting my time in wandering about an island the greater part of which is covered with almost impassable bush."

"Ah, yes; I s'pose you would be," rejoined Turnbull, with an expression of relief that set Leslie wondering.

What on earth did it matter to Turnbull whether he—Dick Leslie—had explored the island or not? he asked himself. Turnbull's next remark let in a little light upon the obscurity, and distinctly startled Leslie. For, staring steadfastly at the island, the burly man presently observed—

"Yes; it's a fine big island, that, and no mistake. With a mountain on it and all, too. I should say, now, that that island would be a very likely place for caves, eh? Looks as though there might be any amount of caves ashore there in the sides of that there hill, don't it?"

Caves! Like a flash of lightning the true explanation of the Minerva's visit stood clearly revealed to Leslie's mind. That one word "caves," spoken as it was in tones of mingled excitement and anxiety, ill-suppressed, had furnished him with the key to the entire enigma. Caves! Yes, of course; that was it; that explained everything—or very nearly everything—that had thus far been puzzling Leslie, and gave him practically all the information that he had been so anxious to acquire. He had read of such incidents in books, of course, but had so far regarded them merely as pegs whereon to hang a more or less ingeniously conceived and exciting romance; but here was a similar incident occurring in actual prosaic earnest; and he suddenly found himself confronted with a situation of exceeding difficulty. For the mention by Turnbull of the word "caves"—careless and casual as he fondly believed it to be, but actually exceedingly clumsy—had in an instant driven home to Leslie's mind the conviction that somehow or other this man had become possessed of information of the existence of the treasure on this island, and had come to take it away! By what circuitous chain of events the information had fallen into the fellow's hands it was of course quite impossible to guess; but that this was the explanation of everything Dick was fully convinced. And now that he possessed the clue he could not only guard his own tongue against the betrayal of information, but could also doubtless so order his remarks as to extort from some one or another of his visitors all the details that he himself might require. So, in reply to Turnbull's last remark, he said carelessly—

"Caves! oh, really I don't know; very possibly there may be—unless the earthquake has shaken them all in and filled them up—"

"Earthquake!" roared Turnbull, in tones of mingled rage and consternation; "you don't mean to say as you've had a hearthquake here, do ye?"

"Certainly," answered Dick, with as much sang-froid as though an earthquake were a mere pleasant interlude in an otherwise monotonous life; "it occurred about three months ago, and gave the place a pretty severe shaking up, I can assure you. It also started that volcano into activity again after ages of quiescence."

"The mischief!" ejaculated Turnbull, with manifest discomposure. "I must go ashore at once!"

"I am afraid," said Leslie, gently, "that my mention of the earthquake and its possible effect upon the caves of the island has somewhat upset you. Are you going ashore in the hope of finding any particular cave? If so, I shall be most happy to assist you in your search."

"Assist! I'll be—I mean of course not," exclaimed Turnbull, beginning with a savage bellow and suddenly calming himself again. "What d'ye s'pose a man like me wants to go pokin' about ashore there, huntin' after caves for? I've somethin' else to do. I've come in here because our fresh water's turned bad, and I thought that maybe I might be able to renew my stock, I s'pose there's fresh water to be had on the island?"

"Certainly," answered Leslie; "there is a most excellent supply, and quite accessible to your boats. It lies over there," pointing toward Mermaid Head; "and falls over a low ledge of rock into deep-water. You can go alongside the rock and fill up your boats or tanks direct, if you like."

"Ah, that'll do first-rate," remarked Turnbull; "I'll give orders for the men to start the foul water at once. And now, as I see that the sun's over the fore-yard, what'll you take to drink? I s'pose you've been pretty hard up all these months for drink, haven't ye?"

"No, indeed," answered Leslie; "on the contrary, I found an abundance of wines and spirits aboard the brig. The only thing that I have lacked has been mineral waters; therefore if you happen to have any soda-water on board it will give me great pleasure to take a whisky and soda with you."

"I believe we have some sodas left," answered Turnbull, doubtfully. "You won't mind takin' it up here on the poop, will ye?" he continued. "Fact is there's a man lyin' sick in one of the cabins below, and I don't want to disturb him with our talk."

Of course Leslie, although he had his doubts about the genuineness of the "sick man" story, readily acquiesced in the suggestion of the other, and seated himself in one of two deck-chairs that were standing on the poop, while Turnbull retired ostensibly for the purpose of quietly hunting up the steward.

A few minutes later the steward—a young Cockney of about twenty-five years of age, who had the worn, harassed appearance of a man living in a state of perpetual scare—came up the poop ladder, bearing a tray on which were a couple of tumblers, an uncorked bottle of whisky, and two bottles of soda-water, which he placed upon the skylight cover. Then, taking up the whisky-bottle and a tumbler, he proceeded to pour out a portion of the spirit, glancing anxiously about him as he did so.

"Say 'when,' sir, please," he requested, in a loud voice, immediately adding under his breath, "Are you alone, ashore there, sir, or is there others there along with you?"

His whole air of extreme trepidation, and the manner of secrecy with which he put this singular question, was but further confirmation—if any were needed—of certain very ugly suspicions that had been taking a strong hold upon Leslie during the whole progress of his interview with the man Turnbull; Dick therefore replied to the steward by putting another question to him in the same low, cautious tones—

"Why do you ask me that, my man?" he murmured.

"Because, sir, there's—Is that about enough whisky, sir?"

The latter part of the steward's speech was uttered in a tone of voice that could be distinctly heard as far forward as the break of the poop, and, with the man's abrupt change of subject was evidently caused—as Leslie could see out of the corner of his eye—by the silent, stealthy appearance of Turnbull's head above the top of the ladder, and the glance of keen suspicion that he shot at the two occupants of the poop.

Dick took the tumbler from the steward's shaking hand and calmly held it up before him, critically measuring the quantity of spirit it contained.

"Yes, thanks," he replied; "that will do nicely. Now for the soda."

And he held the tumbler while the steward opened the soda-water bottle and emptied it's effervescing contents into the spirit. Turnbull glanced keenly from Leslie to the steward and back again, but said nothing, although the unfortunate attendant's condition of terror was patent to all observers. Dick waited patiently while the trembling man helped Turnbull, and then, lifting his tumbler, said—

"Your health, Captain; and to our better acquaintance."

"Thank 'ee; same to you," gruffly replied the individual addressed; adding to the steward, "That'll do; you can go back to your pantry now, and get on with your work."

The fellow departed in double-quick time, obviously glad to get away from the neighbourhood of his somewhat surly superior; and as he went Turnbull watched him until he disappeared down the poop ladder.

"Rum cove, that," he remarked to Leslie, as the man vanished. "Good sort of steward enough, but nervous as a cat. Did ye notice him?"

"It was quite impossible not to do so," answered Dick, with a laugh. "And I could not help feeling sorry for the poor beggar. I take it that he is the simpleton of the ship, and that all hands make a point of badgering him."

"Ay," answered Turnbull, eagerly, clearly relieved that Dick had taken this view of the man's condition; "that's just exactly what it is; you've hit the case off to a haffigraphy. Well, enough said about him. If you're ready to go ashore now I'll go with ye."

"By all means," answered Leslie, genially; not that he was in the least degree desirous to have the man's company, or even that he or any of his crew should land upon the island at all. Still, he knew that, the barque being where she was, it was inevitable that at least some of the ship's company would insist upon going ashore, and he could not see how he was to prevent them; meanwhile, it was much better to have the fellow alone with him than accompanied by half a dozen or more of his men.

As he spoke he rose from his seat and led the way toward the canoe, Turnbull following him. Upon reaching the gangway, however, Dick looked over the side, and then, turning to his companion, said—

"I think you would find it more convenient if your people rigged the side-ladder. My canoe is rather crank, and if you should happen to tumble overboard in getting into her I would not answer for your life; the lagoon swarms with sharks, and as likely as not there are one or two under the ship's bottom at this moment."

Turnbull grunted and turned away, looking forward to where two or three men were loafing about on the forecastle, hard at work doing nothing.

"For'ard, there!" he shouted; "rouse out the side-ladder and rig it, some of ye, and look sharp about it. Steward," he added, turning toward the cabin under the poop, "bring me out a handful of cigars."

The two men with the ladder, and the steward with the cigars, appeared simultaneously; and, pocketing the weeds, the skipper proceeded to the gangway to supervise the rigging of the ladder. As he did so, Leslie felt something being thrust surreptitiously into his hand. It felt like a folded piece of paper, and he calmly pocketed it, glancing casually about him as he did so. The steward was the only man near him, and he was shuffling off nimbly on his way back to his pantry.

Leslie took his time paddling ashore, and when at length the pair landed on the beach the sun had passed the meridian.

"Now, Captain," said Dick, "where would you like to go in the first place?"

Turnbull stood and looked about him admiringly. "Why," he exclaimed, "this here hisland is a real beautiful place, and no mistake. Dash my wig! why, a man might do a sight worse than settle here for the rest of his natural, eh?"

"Ay," answered Leslie, indifferently; "I have often thought so myself. Indeed it is quite on the cards that I may return here some day, with a few seeds and an outfit of gardeners' tools. As you say, a man might do worse. By the way, perhaps it will be as well to get lunch before we start out on our ramble. Will you come up to my tent? You will find it a very comfortable little shanty. I must apologise for the fare that I shall be obliged to offer you, but I have lived on tinned meat and fish ever since I have been here; and I have caught no fish to-day."

"Well, I must say as you've managed to make yourself pretty tidy comfortable," observed Leslie's guest as he entered the tent and stared about him in astonishment; "picters, fancy lamps, tables and chairs with swagger cloths and jigmarees upon 'em, and a brass-mounted bedstead and beddin' fit for a king! They're a blame sight better quarters than you'll find aboard the Minerva, and so I tell ye."

Leslie laughed lightly. "What does that matter?" he demanded. "True, I am fond of comfort, and always make a point of getting it where I can; but I can rough it with anybody when it becomes necessary."

Dick was obliged to leave his guest alone in the tent for a short time while he looked after the preparations for luncheon; and he had little doubt that during his absence the man would without scruple peer and pry into the other compartments of the tent. But to this contingency he was quite indifferent, for he had foreseen and forestalled it, before going off to the barque, by carefully gathering up and stowing away such few traces of a woman's presence as Flora had left behind her. That Turnbull had followed the natural propensity of men of his stamp was made clear immediately upon Dick's return, for, quite unabashed, the fellow remarked—

"I say, mister, you're doin' the thing in style here, and no mistake. I've been havin' a look round this here tent of yourn while you've been away, and I see as you've acshully got a pianner in the next room. And where's your shipmate gone to?"

"My shipmate?" repeated Leslie, staring blankly at him.

"Ay, your shipmate," reiterated Turnbull, severely. "You told me you was all alone here, but I see as you've got two bedrooms rigged up here. Who's t'other for, and where is he?"

"Really, Captain," said Dick, coldly, "I cannot see what possible difference it can make to you whether I have a shipmate or not, if you will pardon me for saying so. But," he continued, somewhat more genially, "it is perfectly evident that you have never lived alone on an island, or you would understand what a luxury it is to be able to change one's sleeping-room occasionally."

"Oh, that's it, is it?" returned Turnbull, with sudden relief. "You sleeps sometimes in one bed and sometimes in t'other, by way of a change, eh?"

"As you see," answered Dick, briefly. "And now, will you draw up your chair? It is not a very tempting meal that I can offer you; but you can make up for it when you return to your ship this evening."

It was evident to Leslie that Turnbull was much exercised in his mind about something, for he ate and drank silently and with a preoccupied air; and later on the reason for this became manifest, for when at length they rose from the table the fellow remarked with a clumsy effort at nonchalance—

"Look here, mister, I expect you've a plenty of matters to look after and attend to, so don't you worry about showin' me round this here hisland of yourn; you just go on with what you've got in hand, and I'll take a stroll somewheres by myself."

So that was it. He wanted an opportunity to go off upon an exploring expedition unrestrained by Dick's presence! But this did not at all chime in with Leslie's plans; for he felt certain that if he yielded to his companion's suggestion the latter would at once make his way in the direction of the treasure-cave, and endeavour to discover its locality, with the result that he would inevitably come into collision with Nicholls and Simpson. This, in any case, would doubtless happen, sooner or later; but Dick wished to acquire a little further information before it occurred. He therefore replied—

"Oh, thanks, very much. I was busy enough, in all conscience, before you arrived; but now that you have turned up, and have kindly consented to take me off the island, I have nothing further to do. So I may as well accompany you, since I know the shortest way to such few points of interest as the island possesses. Where would you like to go? The crater and the watering-place are about the only spots that are likely to tempt you, I think."

Turnbull glared at Dick as though he could have eaten him; and for a moment the ex-lieutenant thought that his guest was about to try violent measures with him. But if that thought was really in his mind he suffered more prudent counsels to prevail with him, and, after a few moments' hesitation, intimated that he would like to have a look at the watering-place. Dick accordingly piloted his morose companion to the spot, and pointed out how excellently it was adapted to the purpose of watering ships, drawing his attention to the deep-water immediately beneath the low cascade, and dilating upon the facility with which boats could be brought alongside. But it was clearly apparent to him that Turnbull was absolutely uninterested in the subject; and he was by no means sorry when, upon the return to the camp, the latter declined his invitation to remain on shore to dinner, and curtly requested to be at once put off to the barque. During the passage off to the vessel the man's surliness of demeanour suddenly vanished, and, as though a brilliant idea had just struck him, he became in a moment almost offensively civil, strongly urging Dick to remain aboard the barque and "make a night of it." But neither did this suit Dick's plans; the sudden change in the man's demeanour at once roused Leslie's suspicions; and as he had no intention whatever of placing himself in the fellow's power, he suavely declined the invitation, remarking that, as he would soon be having quite as much of the sea as he wanted, he would continue to enjoy his present roomy quarters as long as he could.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

A STORY OF MUTINY.

Not until Leslie was once more back in his own tent, and absolutely safe from all possibility of interruption or espionage, did he venture to open and peruse the scrap of paper that the steward had that morning so surreptitiously slipped into his hand. It was apparently part of the leaf of a pocket memorandum book; and, hastily scribbled in pencil, in an ill-formed and uneducated hand, it bore the following words:—

"Sir, for God's sake take care what your about, or your life won't be worth a brass farden. Turnbull aint no more the proper capten of this ship than I am. There won't be no anchor watch aboard here to-night so if youl come off about half after midnight I'll be on the lookout for yer and tell yer the hole bloomin yarn. For God's sake come.—Steward."

"Um!" meditated Leslie, as he held the document to the light of the lamp. "Now, what does this mean? Is it a trap to get me aboard the barque, or is it genuine? The latter, I am inclined to think, for several reasons; the first of which is that the poor man was obviously in a state of abject terror this morning. Secondly, he was so keenly anxious to open up communication with me that he made an unsuccessful attempt to do so while helping me to my whisky and soda. Thirdly, his statement that Turnbull is not the legitimate skipper of the barque is so evidently true that it needs no discussion. And fourthly, if Turnbull had seriously desired to make me a prisoner this afternoon, he could easily have done so by sending a boat's crew in pursuit of me— that is to say," he corrected himself, "for all he knows to the contrary, he could easily have done so. For how was he to know that I had two fully loaded revolvers in my pocket, equivalent to the lives of twelve men? Yes, I am strongly inclined to believe that this remarkable little document is genuine, and that there is something very radically wrong aboard that barque. What is it, I wonder? That Turnbull has somehow got scent of the treasure, and is after it, I am almost prepared to swear; his obvious vexation and disappointment at finding me here as 'the man in possession,' and his equally obvious efforts to shake me off to-day that he might have an opportunity to go away by himself in search of the cave, prove that; but there is something more than that, I am certain. I wonder, now, whether his story of the sick man in the cabin has anything to do with it? I should not be surprised if it had. And where were the crew this morning? Turnbull spoke of being short-handed; but surely there are more people aboard than himself, the steward, the cook, and the two or three men I saw? Oh yes, there is something very queer about the whole business; and this document is genuine. At all events I will go off to-night, and hear what the steward has to say about it."

In accordance with this resolution Leslie forthwith partook of a good hearty meal, and then, extinguishing his lamp, left the tent—to guard against the possibility of his being surprised there in his sleep—and, walking over to the pile of goods that he had accumulated from the brig's cargo, raised the tarpaulin that covered it, and, creeping underneath, stretched himself out as comfortably as he could to snatch a few hours' sleep, confident that the faculty which he possessed of being able to wake at any desired moment would not play him false. And a few minutes later he was fast asleep; for Dick Leslie was one of those men who, when once they have resolved upon a certain course of action, dismiss further consideration of it from their minds and allow it to trouble them no longer.

He had fixed upon half-past eleven as the hour at which he would rise, this allowing him a full hour in which to paddle off to the barque; and when by-and-by he awoke, and under the shelter of the tarpaulin cautiously struck a match and consulted his watch, he found that it was within five minutes of the half-hour. He next peered out from under the tarpaulin and carefully scanned the beach by the light of the stars, to see whether Turnbull had sent a boat ashore in the hope of "catching a weasel asleep;" but his own canoe was the only craft visible, and he accordingly made his way down to the water's edge, and, pushing her off, sprang noiselessly into her as she went afloat. Then, heading her round with a couple of powerful sweeps of the paddle, he pointed her nose toward the spot where the Minerva's spars made a delicate tracery of black against the star-spangled heavens, and with long, easy, silent strokes drove her quietly ahead.

That the crew had not yet retired to their bunks was soon evident to him from the fact that snatches of maudlin song came floating down to him occasionally upon the pinions of the dew-laden night breeze; but these dwindled steadily as he drew nearer to the vessel, and about a quarter of an hour before he arrived alongside they ceased altogether, and the craft subsided into complete silence.

Leslie deemed it advisable to approach the barque with a considerable amount of caution, not that he doubted the steward, but because, despite the silence that had fallen on board, it was just possible that some of the crew might still be awake and on deck; he therefore kept the three masts of the vessel in one, and crept up to her very gently from right astern. As he drew in under the shadow of her hull the complete darkness and silence in which the craft was wrapped seemed almost ominous and uncanny; but presently he detected a solitary figure on the poop, evidently on the watch, and a moment later saw that this figure was silently signalling to him to draw up under the counter. Obeying these silent signals, he found a rope dangling over the stern, which he seized, and the next instant the figure that he had observed came silently wriggling down the rope into the canoe. Leslie at once recognised him as the steward.

"It's all right, sir," whispered the man, breathless, in part from his exertions, and partly also, Leslie believed, from apprehension; "it's all right. But let go, sir, please, and let's get a few fathoms away from the ship, for there's no knowin' when that skunk Turnbull may take it into his head to come on deck and 'ave a look round; 'e's as nervous as a cat, and that suspicious that you can't be up to 'im. There, thank 'e, sir; I dare say that'll do; they won't be able to see or 'ear us from where we are now, for I couldn't see you until you was close under the counter. Well, you've come, sir, God be thanked; and I 'ope you'll be able to 'elp us; because if you can't it'll be a precious bad job for some of us." And the fellow sighed heavily with mingled apprehension and relief.

"You had better tell me the whole of your story," said Leslie, quietly. "I shall then be in a position to say whether I can help you or not. If I can, you may rest assured that I will."

"Thank 'e, sir," murmured the man. "Well, ye see, sir, it's like this. We sailed from London for Capetown a little more than four months ago; and everything went smooth and comfortable enough with us until we got across the line and into the south-east trades—for the skipper, poor Cap'n Hopkins, was as nice and pleasant a man as anybody need wish to sail under; and so was Mr Marshall, too—that's the mate, you'll understand, sir—although 'e kep' the men up to their dooty, and wouldn't 'ave no skulkin' aboard. The only chap as was anyways disagreeable was this feller Turnbull, who was rated as bo'sun, and give charge of the starboard watch, actin' as a sort of second mate, ye see. Well, as I was sayin', everything went all right until we got to the s'uth'ard of the line. Then, one night I was woke up some time after midnight by a terrific row in the cabin; and up I jumps and out I goes to see what was up. When I got into the cabin it seemed full of men; but I'd no sooner shown my nose than one of the chaps—it was Pete Burton, I remember—catches sight of me, and, takin' me by the collar, 'e runs me back into my cabin and says, 'You stay in there, Jim,'—my name's Reynolds—Jim Reynolds—you'll understand, sir. 'You stay in there, Jim,' 'e says, 'and no 'arm'll come to you; but if you tries to come out afore you're called, you'll get 'urt,' 'e says. Then 'e turns the key upon me, and I gets back into my bunk, and listens. The next thing I 'eard was a pistol-shot; then there was another tremenjous 'ullabaloo, men shoutin' and strugglin' together, followed by a suddent silence, and the sound of all 'ands clearin' out of the cabin. Then there was a lot of tramplin' of feet on the poop over my 'ead, with a good deal of talkin'; then I 'eard somebody cry out, there was a 'eavy splash in the water alongside, and then everything went quite quiet all of a sudden, and I 'eard no more until mornin'. But I guessed pretty well what 'ad 'appened; and when Turnbull come along about five bells and unlocked my door and ordered me to turn out and get about my work, I found I was right, for when I went for'ard to the galley, Slushy—that's the cook, otherwise known as Neil Dolan—told me that that skowbank Turnbull, backed up by the four A.B.s in the fo'c's'le and Slushy 'isself, 'ad rose and took the ship from the skipper, killin' 'im and Chips—that's the carpenter—puttin' the mate in irons and lockin' 'im up in 'is cabin, and compellin' the four ordinarys to help—whether they would or no—in workin' the ship. Then, by-and-by, when eight bells struck and I rang the bell for breakfast, along comes Turnbull, and says to me—

"'Well, Jim, I s'pose you've 'eard the news?'

"'Yes, bo'sun,' I says, 'I 'ave.'

"'Very well,' he says; 'that's all right. Now,' 'e says, 'all as you 'ave to do, my son, is to behave yourself and do your dooty, takin' care not to interfere with my arrangements. You'll give the mate 'is meals in 'is own cabin, regular; but you're not to talk to 'im, you understand, nor tell 'im anything that you may see or 'ear about what's goin' on. And don't you call me bo'sun no more, young man, or I'll knock your bloomin' young 'ead off, for I'm cap'n of this ship now, and don't you forget it! So now you knows what to expect. And, mind you,' 'e says, 'if you gets up to any 'ankypanky tricks I'll chuck you over the side, so sure as your name's Jim Reynolds, so keep your weather eye liftin', my son!'

"Later on, that same day, Turnbull 'as the mate out into the main cabin and spreads a chart of the Pacific Hocean out on the table; and, readin' from a paper what 'e 'ad in 'is 'and, says, 'Now, Mr Marshall, I'll trouble you to lay down on this 'ere chart a p'int bearin' latitood so-and-so and longitood so-and-so,'—I forgets what the figures was. 'And when you've done that,' he says, 'you'll navigate this 'ere barque to that identical spot. I'll give yer two months from to-day to get us there,' 'e says; 'and if we're not there by that time,' 'e says, 'I'll lash your 'ands and feet together be'ind yer back and 'eave yer overboard. So now you knows what you've to do if you want to save yer bloomin' life,' 'e says.

"That same a'ternoon, while I was for'ard in the galley, Slushy—who was in 'igh spirits—tells me as 'ow Turnbull 'ave got 'old of a yarn about a lot of buried treasure on a hisland somewhere, in the Pacific, and that we was bound there to get it; and that when we'd got it, Turnbull and them as 'ad stood in with 'im 'd be as rich as princes and wouldn't need to do another stroke of work for the rest of their naturals, but just 'ave a good time, with as much booze as they cared to swaller. And I reckon that this 'ere's the hisland where Turnbull thinks 'e'll find 'is treasure."

"No doubt," agreed Leslie. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Well, sir, it ain't for the likes of me to say just exactly what you ought to do," answered Reynolds. "I thought that maybe if I spinned you the whole yarn you'd be able to think out some way of 'elpin' of us. There ain't no doubt in my mind but what you bein' on the hisland 'ave upset Turnbull's calculations altogether. As I makes it out, 'e reckoned upon comin' 'ere and goin' ashore with 'is paper in 'is 'and, and walkin' pretty straight to the place where this 'ere treasure is buried, and diggin' of it up all quite comfortable, with nobody to hinterfere with 'im. But you bein' 'ere makes it okkard for 'im, you see; because 'e's afraid that where 'e goes you'll go with 'im, and if 'e goes pokin' about lookin' after buried treasure you'll drop on to 'is secret and p'rhaps get 'old of the stuff. And that's just where the danger to you comes in; because, d'ye see, sir, if 'e'd kill one man for the sake of gettin' 'old of the barque to come 'ere on the off-chance of findin' the treasure, 'e ain't the kind of man to 'esitate about killin' another who'd be likely to hinterfere with 'im."

"Just so," assented Leslie; "that is quite possible. But I will see that he does nothing of the kind. Now, tell me, how many of the ship's company are with Turnbull, and how many are there against him?"

"Well, first of all, there's Turnbull 'isself; that's one," answered the steward. "Then there's Burton, Royston, Hampton, and Cunliffe, the four A.B.s; that's five. And, lastly, there's the cook; 'e makes six. Then, on our side, there's Mr Marshall, the mate; that's one. I'm another; that's two. And there's Rogers, Andrews, Parker, and Martin, the four ordinary seamen; that's six again. So there's six against six, as you may say; only there's this difference between us: Turnbull 'ave got two revolvers, one what 'e found in the skipper's cabin, and one what 'e took from the mate, while the four A.B.s 'as their knives; whereas we 'aven't nothin', they 'avin' took our knives and everything away from us."

"Still," argued Leslie, "the belaying-pins are always available, I suppose, and they are fairly effective weapons in a hand-to-hand fight, to say nothing of handspikes and other matters that you can always lay your hands on. But of course Turnbull's brace of revolvers gives him an immense advantage, should it come to fighting. But I can plainly see that if the slip is to be recaptured at all—and I believe it can be managed—it must be done without fighting; for you are not strong-handed enough to risk the loss, or even the disablement, of so much as a single man. Now, tell me this. Turnbull informs me that your water is bad, and that he intends to re-water the ship, here. Is that true, or is it only a fabrication to account to me for the presence here of the Minerva?"

"Why, just that, and nothin' else, sir," answered the steward. "Our water's good enough. But certingly we're runnin' rather short of it; and I don't doubt but what 'e'll fill up, if there's water to be 'ad 'ere. But it's the treasure as 'e's after, first and foremost, and don't you forget it."

"Quite so," agreed Leslie. "Now, no doubt he will go ashore again soon after daylight; and as I shall not come off to the ship he will be compelled to come ashore in his own boat. How many men will he be likely to bring with him, think you?"

"Not more'n two, sir, certingly," answered the steward; "and p'rhaps not any at all. Likely enough when 'e finds as you don't come off 'e'll scull 'isself ashore in the dinghy. Because, you see, sir, 'e don't trust none of us 'ceptin' the four as is standin' in with 'im, and them four 'as their orders to keep a strict heye upon us to see that we don't rise and take back the ship from 'em. So I don't think as 'e'll take any o' them ashore with 'im if 'e can 'elp it. And 'e won't take none of the others either, 'cause 'e'd be afraid to trust 'isself alone with 'em."

"Very well," said Leslie. "I think I can see my way pretty clearly now. If Turnbull should go ashore by himself to-morrow, I will look after him and see that he does not return to the barque. But if he should take any of his own gang with him—say two of them—that will leave only two and the cook aboard against six of you, which will make you two to one. In that case you must watch your chance, and, if you can find an opportunity, rise upon those three and retake the ship. And if you should succeed, hoist the ensign to the gaff-end as a signal to me that the ship is recaptured. But do not run any risks, mind; because, as I have already said, you cannot afford to lose even one man. If you cannot see a good chance to retake the ship, we must watch our opportunity, and think of some other plan. That is all, I think. Now I will put you aboard again. But look out for me to come off again about the same time to-morrow night."

With the same caution as before Leslie now again approached the barque, but this time he took the canoe up under the craft's mizzen channels, from which it was a much easier matter for the steward to scramble aboard again than if he had been compelled to shin up the rope dangling over the stern, by which he had descended; and having seen the man safely in on deck, he softly pushed the canoe off the ship's side with his bare hand, and allowed her to be driven clear by the wind; and it was not until he was a good hundred yards astern of the Minerva that he took to his paddle and returned to the camp. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning when at length he once more entered his tent and stretched himself upon his bed to finish his night's rest.

Leslie was habitually an early riser, and, notwithstanding the fact that the previous night's rest had been a broken one, he was once more astir by sunrise, taking his towels and soap with him to a little rocky pool in the stream where he was wont to indulge in his morning's "tub;" and by eight o'clock he was seated at table in his tent, enjoying his breakfast, and at the same time keeping an eye upon the barque.

It was not, however, until close upon half-past ten that Dick detected any signs of a movement on board the Minerva; and then with the aid of his telescope, he observed that they were getting the vessel's dinghy into the water. Ten minutes later he saw Turnbull climb down the ship's side, and, throwing over a short pair of sculls, shove off and head the little craft for the beach. Dick waited only just long enough to make quite sure that the man was really coming ashore, and, this presently becoming evident, he at once started for the treasure-cave. Knowing the way by this time perfectly well, an hour's easy walking took him to the spot, where he found Nicholls and Simpson on the watch. A few terse sentences sufficed to put the men in possession of the material facts of the situation, and he then hurried down aboard the cutter to see Flora and assure her of his safety, and that everything was going well. Then, returning to the cave, he made his final arrangements with the two men, and set out on his way back toward the camp. He did not go very far, however, for he knew that, finding him absent, Turnbull would at once seize the opportunity to institute a search for the cave; and he knew, further, that—since the man was undoubtedly possessed of tolerably complete information, including, probably, a map of the island—he must sooner or later make his appearance in the neighbourhood; he therefore selected a spot where, himself unseen, he could command a view of the ground over which the fellow must almost inevitably pass, and sat down to patiently await developments.

At length, after Leslie had been in ambush for nearly three hours, he saw Turnbull approaching among the trees, carrying what appeared to be a map or plan in his hand, which he consulted from time to time, with frequent pauses to stare about him as though in search of certain landmarks. As the burly ruffian drew nearer, Dick took a revolver from his pocket and finally scrutinised it to make absolutely certain that it was in perfect working order. Slowly the fellow approached, muttering curses below his breath at the unevenness of the way and the unsimilarity of the landscape with that described in the document which he carried. Presently he went, stumbling and execrating, close past the spot where Leslie remained concealed, and the latter at once rose to his feet and followed him noiselessly, at a distance of some fifteen paces. In this fashion the two men covered a distance of about a quarter of a mile, when Turnbull once more paused to consult his map.

At the same moment Leslie halted, and, levelling his revolver at the boatswain's head, said—

"It is no good, Turnbull; you will never find the place without my help. No, you don't! Throw up your hands. Over your head with them, quick, or I'll fire! Do you hear what I say, sir? Well, take that, then, you obstinate mule, as a hint to do as you are told in future!"

And as Leslie spoke he pulled the trigger of his revolver, and sent a bullet through the man's left arm, shattering the bone above the elbow.

For, with the sound of Dick's voice, Turnbull had faced about, and, with a bitter curse, made as though he would plunge his hands into the side-pockets of the pilot jacket that he was wearing. As the shot struck him he gave vent to another curse that ended in a sharp howl of anguish as he flung his uninjured arm above his head.

"What the blazes are ye doin' of?" he yelled in impotent fury. "D'ye know that you've broke my arm?"

"Sorry," remarked Dick, nonchalantly, "but you would have it, you know. I distinctly ordered you to throw up your hands, and you immediately attempted to plunge them into your pockets to get at your revolvers. If you compel me to shoot again I shall shoot to kill, so I hope that, for your own sake, you will make no further attempt to do anything foolish. Now, right about face, and march. I will tell you how to steer. And be very careful to keep that right hand of yours well above your head."

"Ain't you goin' to bind up this wound of mine for me, then?" demanded Turnbull. "And what right have you got to shoot at me, I'd like to know?"

"All in good time," answered Leslie, airily. "Now march, as I told you, and be quick about it, or I shall be compelled to freshen your way for you with another shot. I know all about you, my good man, and I am therefore not at all disposed to put up with any nonsense. Forward!"

With a further volley of curses of extraordinary virulence, Turnbull turned on his heel and resumed his way in the direction of the treasure-cave, with Dick at his heels directing him from time to time to "port a little", "starboard a bit," or "steady as you go," as the case might be.

A few minutes of this kind of thing sufficed to bring the pair close to the treasure-cave, the entrance of which had been considerably enlarged by Nicholls and Simpson for their own convenience. They were, however, absent for the moment when Dick arrived with his prisoner; and the latter stared in wonderment at the cave and the chests in front of it, which the two men had removed from the interior prior to transference to the cutter.

"So," exclaimed Turnbull, savagely, "that's what you're at, is it? Stealin' my treasure! Very well; if I don't make you smart for this my name ain't Robert Turnbull, that's all. What d'ye mean, I'd like to know, by comin' here and stealin' treasure that don't belong to ye, eh?"

"To whom does it belong, pray, if not to me?" demanded Dick, blandly, curious to learn what kind of claim this ruffian would set up.

"Why, to me, of course," howled Turnbull, clenching his right fist and shaking it savagely at Leslie.

"Keep that right hand of yours over your head," ordered Dick, sharply, again covering him with lightning-like rapidity. "That's right," he continued. "Now perhaps you will kindly tell me how it came to be yours."

"Why, I got it off a former shipmate of mine," answered Turnbull. "He give it to me when—when he—died."

"What was his name?" asked Dick.

"His name?" reiterated Turnbull, "what do his name matter? And anyhow I've forgot it."

At this moment Nicholls and Simpson made their appearance upon the scene, much to Turnbull's amazement, and turning to them Leslie said—

"Here is your prisoner, lads. Have you your lashings ready? And is the cave empty of everything that we intend to take away with us? Very well, then; march this fellow in there and bind his two feet and his right hand together securely—his left arm is broken and useless, you need not therefore trouble about that. And when you have done that I will set his broken arm and dress his wound for him. Keep him in the cave until I give you further instructions concerning him, and meanwhile give him a sufficiency of food and water to keep him from starving."

For a moment Turnbull, wounded as he was, seemed very much disposed to make a final struggle for his liberty; but although he was a strong man, Simpson would have been more than a match for him even if he had been unwounded, and presently, recognising the futility and folly of resistance he sulkily entered the cave and submitted to be bound, growling and cursing horribly all the while, however. Then Leslie, assisted by Nicholls, dressed his wound and set the broken bone of the arm; lashing it firmly with splints hastily cut out of small branches from the nearest trees. Satisfied now that the fellow was absolutely secured, and quite incapable either of escaping or of inflicting any very serious injury upon himself, the three men at length left him to his; own devices, and proceeded to get the remainder of the treasure aboard the cutter and snugly stowed away—a task that they accomplished early enough to enable Dick to get back to the camp ere nightfall. Arrived there, Leslie at once set to work to prepare himself a good substantial meal, which he subsequently devoured with much gusto—having eaten nothing since breakfast; and, this important matter being disposed of, he immediately turned in, desiring to secure a few hours' sleep ere setting out upon his nocturnal trip off to the barque.

When, at about half an hour after midnight, he again approached the Minerva, observing the same precautions as before, he found the steward awaiting his arrival with considerable trepidation. The man again descended into the canoe by way of the rope over the stern; and again Leslie allowed the little craft to drive with the wind to a perfectly safe distance before opening the conversation. At length, however, he said—

"Now I think we are far enough away to permit of our talking freely without being either heard or seen; so go ahead, Reynolds, and give me the news. Has Turnbull's failure to return to the ship caused any uneasiness to the others of his gang?"

"Well, it 'ave, and it 'aven't, if you can understand me, sir," answered the man. "What I mean to say is this," he continued, by way of explanation, "the chaps—Burton and the rest of 'em—seems a bit puzzled that 'e 'aven't come off aboard to sleep to-night; but so far as I can make out, they thinks 'e's stayin' ashore with you, chummin' up with you, in a manner of speakin', and tryin' to get to wind'ard of you. They seems to think that Turnbull—who thinks 'isself a mighty clever chap, but ain't nothin' of the sort—'aven't been able to hinvent an excuse to get away from you, and that you've been goin' about with 'im all day, showin' 'im round the hisland and such-like; and that 'e's stayin' ashore to-night 'opin' to be able to give you the slip early in the mornin' and get off by 'isself to 'ave a look for 'is treasure-cave. That's what they thinks; but of course it ain't nothin' of the sort. You knows what 'ave 'appened to 'im, sir; no doubt?"

"Oh yes," answered Leslie, with a laugh; "I know quite well what has happened to him. He is alive; but he will not come off to the barque again."

"Thank God for that!" ejaculated the steward, piously. "Well, sir," he resumed, "what is to be the next move?"

"That," answered Leslie, "will depend upon circumstances—or, in other words, upon the action of Turnbull's accomplices. It would no doubt be easy enough to recapture the barque without further delay, if I were willing to risk a fight. But I am not, for two very good reasons; one of which is that my own party is so small that I cannot afford to have either of them hurt; and the other is that your party is also so small that if even a single man should happen to be disabled in a fight it would be exceedingly difficult for the remainder of you to handle the barque. Therefore I would very much rather spend a few more days over this business, and recapture the vessel without any fighting, than rush the matter and perhaps get somebody badly hurt. By the way, what sort of men are these accomplices of Turnbull's? Are they of the resolute and determined sort?"

"Ay," answered the steward, "you bet your life they are, sir. Turnbull took 'em in with 'im just because 'e couldn't 'elp 'isself. 'E 'ad to 'ave 'elp to take the barque, and naterally 'e chose the chaps as 'e thought would be most useful to 'im, 'specially as 'e didn't want to 'ave more 'n 'e could 'elp to go shares with 'im. Now these 'ere four— Burton and the rest of 'em—are big, strong fellers, all of 'em. Either of 'em could tackle any two of the rest of us in a stand-up fight and make mincemeat of us; so I reckon that's the reason why Turnbull chose 'em. With they four and the cook on 'is side, and the mate safe in irons and locked up in 'is cabin, 'e could laugh at the rest of us, and do just ezactly as 'e liked."

"I see," assented Leslie. "But what sort of a man is your mate, then? Could he not devise some scheme whereby, with the assistance of the rest of you, he could get the better of these fellows?"

"Mr Marshall?" responded the steward. "Oh, 'e's all right; 'e's smart enough, 'e is; not much of a chap to look at—bein' a small man and not over strong—but 'is 'ead's screwed on the right way. But 'e can't do nothin', because, ye see, sir, they keeps 'im in irons and locked up in 'is own cabin, 'cept when 'e was let out twice a day to take the sights and work up the ship's reckonin', and then either Turnbull or one of 'is gang was always alongside of 'im, and nobody else was hever allowed to go anigh 'im; whilst at other times—when I was givin' 'im 'is meals, I mean—either Pete Burton or one of the other chaps what was in with Turnbull was always about to see as 'e and I didn't 'ave no talk together. So, ye see, the poor man 'adn't no chance to do anything 'owever much 'e might 'ave been minded."

"Poor beggar!" ejaculated Leslie; "he must have had an awfully rough time of it. And, evidently, Turnbull and his pals do not mean to take any chances—which makes the recapture of the barque without a fight somewhat difficult. However, I believe it can be done; and, anyhow, I intend to try. Now, as I suppose you know these fellows pretty well, I want you to tell me what you think will happen when they find that Turnbull does not return to the ship."

The steward carefully considered the matter for some moments. At length he said—

"Well, sir, if Turnbull don't come off by to-morrow night, it's very likely as they'll begin to suspect that you knows somethin' about it. Then, what'll they do? They daren't all four of 'em leave the barque, with only Slushy to take care of 'er, because they knows very well that the rest of us 'd pretty soon tie up Mr Slushy and have the barque back again. And they knows, too, that if all four of 'em was to come ashore, we could slip the cable, make sail, and take the 'ooker out to sea afore they could pull off to 'er. No; they won't do that. What they will do, I expect, is this. If Turnbull don't come off by sunset to-morrow— which I s'pose he won't, eh? No. Well, if he don't, I expect as they'll wait till some time a'ter midnight, and then two of 'em 'll quietly drift ashore in one of the quarter-boats, leavin' the other two to take care o' the ship. And the two as goes ashore 'll reckon upon catchin' of you calmly asleep in your tent, there, and makin' you tell 'em where Turnbull is."

"Y-e-s," assented Leslie, thoughtfully, "it is quite likely that they may do some such thing as that. Yes; no doubt they will do that, sooner or later; if not to-morrow night, then the night after, or the night after that again. Very well; if they do, I shall be ready for them. And on the succeeding night, steward, you may look out for me again, about this time, unless, meanwhile, I see any reason to alter my plans. Now, that is all for the present, I think, so I will put you aboard again. I suppose, by the way, these men have no suspicion that you and I are in communication with each other?"

"Lor' bless ye, no, sir," answered Reynolds, cheerfully. "Why should they? They don't dream as you've any idee of the real state of affairs—at least not up to now. They may p'rhaps 'ave their suspicions if Turnbull don't come aboard some time to-morrow; but at present they believes as 'e 've bamboozled you completely. Then, they drinks pretty freely every night, and sleeps sound a'ter it, which they wouldn't do if they 'ad a thought as I was up to any game."

"So much the better," remarked Leslie. "What you have to do is to leave them in the same comfortable frame of mind as long as possible. Now, here we are. Good night!"

As Leslie paddled thoughtfully ashore again he pondered over the foregoing conversation with the steward, and after carefully weighing the several pros and cons of the situation, finally arrived at the conclusion that the steward's surmise as to the mutineers' line of action would probably prove to be a very near approach to the truth. In any case he thought it in the highest degree improbable that they would attempt so exceedingly risky an operation as that of leaving the barque in broad daylight, when all hands would be awake and about; he therefore partook of a leisurely breakfast next morning, and then fearlessly left the camp to take care of itself while he sauntered over to the cove to see how Nicholls and Simpson were getting on. And as he passed the treasure-cave he looked in, just to satisfy himself that Turnbull was still in safe keeping, and also to examine his wound. He found the fellow still bound hard and fast, and in a state of sullen fury at his helpless condition, but otherwise he was doing fairly well, except for the fact that his wound presented a somewhat inflamed and angry appearance, due, no doubt, to the man's unhealthy state of body through excessive drinking. Leslie dressed the wound afresh, and then passed on to the cove, where he found Nicholls and Simpson busily engaged in getting the cutter ataunto. They had already got her mainsail bent, set, and flapping gently about in the small currents of wind that eddied round the cove, the idea being to allow it to stretch uniformly before exposing it to the regular strain of work. And when Leslie came upon them they were busy upon the task of bending the foresail; and Nicholls reported that they would be easily able to complete everything, even to getting the topmast on end and the rigging set up, before nightfall. As for Flora, she had gone off upon a ramble, leaving a note for Dick which contained instructions as to how he might find her. This he did, without difficulty; and as the whole of the treasure was now loaded on board the cutter and the little craft herself was in condition to leave the cove at an hour's notice, there remained little or nothing to be done prior to the recapture of the Minerva. Dick therefore felt himself perfectly free to devote the remainder of the day to his sweetheart.

About an hour before sunset, however, the pair turned up at the cove, and while Flora went on board the cutter, Leslie instructed Nicholls to accompany him back to the camp, which they reached just as darkness fell. Arrived there, the two men at once made their way to the great pile of bales and cases that Dick had, with such a tremendous expenditure of labour, brought ashore from the wrecked Mermaid, and, rummaging among these, found the big case of firearms from which Leslie had provided himself. The case was opened and a brace of good, serviceable revolvers withdrawn therefrom for Nicholls' use, after which the two men leisurely partook of their evening meal. By the time that this was finished and cleared away it was close upon eight o'clock, and as Leslie rather anticipated the possibility of a visit from some of the mutineers that night, and had no fancy for being taken unawares by them, he directed Nicholls to lie down and sleep until midnight, when he would relieve him, it being Dick's purpose that the two men should take watch and watch through the night.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

THE RECAPTURE OF THE MINERVA.

The camp being in complete darkness, Dick took his station just inside the tent-flap and, with the aid of his night-glass, maintained a close watch upon the barque. Hitherto there had been something very much in the nature of a carouse carried on aboard her every night since her arrival, the revel usually lasting up until nearly midnight. But on this particular night there was a difference, the singing and shouting coming to an end before four bells, or ten o'clock, a circumstance that further confirmed Dick in his impression that the mutineers meditated some step of a more or less decisive character. Yet when, by the carefully screened lamp in the tent, he consulted his watch and found that the hour of midnight was already past, he had entirely failed to detect any sign of life or movement on board the Minerva.

He now called Nicholls, and when the latter appeared he said to him—

"If you will sit here, where I have been sitting, you will be able, by using the night-glass, to keep a very perfect watch upon the barque without being yourself seen, and the moment that you detect anything like the appearance of a boat coming ashore, please wake me. And be especially careful not to light your pipe where you can be seen, as I am particularly anxious not to scare those fellows from coming ashore. And, in their present state of mind, I am afraid that anything which might excite within them the suspicion that they are being watched would suffice to scare them back to the ship again."

Then he, in his turn, stretched himself out and was presently sound asleep.

It seemed as though he had been asleep scarcely five minutes, although it was really more than an hour when Nicholls shook him by the shoulder and said—

"Mr Leslie, wake up, sir, please. There's a boat of some sort coming ashore from the barque. She's been in sight for the last quarter of an hour, but she's coming along very slowly, and I expect it'll be quite another quarter of an hour before she reaches the beach."

"Where is she?" demanded Leslie, seizing the night-glass. "Oh, there she is," he continued, as he brought the instrument to bear. "I see her. She appears to be one of the barque's quarter-boats, Nicholls, and, so far as I can make out, there are only two men in her."

"It's difficult to tell by starlight, sir," replied Nicholls, "but I should say there's about that number. There can't be less, for she is pulling two oars, and one man wouldn't be likely to attempt the job of pulling a heavy boat like a gig ashore, much less pull her back again against the wind. And I don't think there's likely to be more than two of 'em, otherwise they wouldn't be pulling only two oars."

"Just so," agreed Leslie. "Now where are those seizings? Oh, here they are! That's all right; we must have them where we can put our hands upon them at a moment's notice. And are your pistols all ready, in case you should need to use them? That's well. Now all that remains for us to do is to quietly await the arrival of those gentlemen here, in the darkness of the tent. They will be pretty certain to come here first. And when they do, I will cover them with my revolvers while you lash their hands behind them. And take care that you lash them so securely that there will be no possibility of their getting adrift again."

"Ay, ay, sir; never fear. You may trust me for that," answered Nicholls, cheerfully.

And with that the two men seated themselves well back within the deepest shadows of the tent, and quietly awaited the approach of their nocturnal visitors.

The boat was by this time so close to the beach that it was apparent that the men in her were pulling with muffled oars; and presently she glided in upon the sand so gently that she grounded without a sound. Then the two figures in her silently rose to their feet, and, laying in their oars with such extreme care that the deposition of them upon the thwarts was accomplished with perfect noiselessness, stepped gently out of her on to the yielding sand. They conferred earnestly together for a minute or two and then, turning, came cautiously up the beach, each of them carrying a short length of rope in his hand.

"By Jove," whispered Leslie to his companion, "they are determined to leave nothing to chance; they have actually brought along with them the lashings wherewith to bind me!"

Nicholls chuckled quietly. "So they have, sir," he whispered. "It'll be a joke to see the way that they'll be taken aback presently."

Treading carefully and using every precaution to avoid the slightest noise, the two men slowly made their way up the beach and on to the thick grass of the little savannah upon which the tent stood. They now seemed to think that the necessity for such extreme caution was past, and advanced much more rapidly, until they arrived within about twenty yards of the tent, when they again paused for a moment to confer together.

"Now!" whispered Leslie; and, at the word, he and his companion rose to their feet and stepped forward into the open. The new arrivals did not see them at once, for their heads were close together as they whispered to each other, and there were perhaps never two more surprised men than they were when Leslie's voice smote upon their ears with the words—

"Don't move an inch, or you are both dead men. And throw up your hands! If you dare to move I will fire; and, as you may see, I am covering you both!"

As Leslie spoke the two men started guiltily apart, and then stood staring in stupefaction at the two figures that had so suddenly appeared before them.

"Up with your hands, both of you," reiterated Leslie, sharply, for the strangers had apparently been taken too completely by surprise to fully comprehend all that was said to them. "And," he continued, "listen carefully to me, both of you. You are my prisoners, and I intend to make perfectly sure of you. I know all about you; I know you to be two men who are engaged in a desperate enterprise, and are likely to stick at nothing. Now, understand me well: I am just as resolute as you are, and if you give me the slightest trouble I will put a bullet through you, as surely as you stand there; so do not attempt any nonsense if you value your lives. Now you," indicating one of them with his levelled revolver, "move three paces to your right—so; halt! that will do. Now, Nicholls, lash that fellow's hands firmly behind his back."

"Well, here's a pretty go," yelled one of them to the other in an access of impotent fury. "A dandy old mess you've made of this job, Mister bloomin' Peter Burton, haven't you? and dragged me into it along with yer! I wish I'd never had nothin' at all to do with the cussed business, now, I do; I knowed it was boun' to go a mucker, from the very fust! But you and that bloomin' skowbank of a Turnbull would drag me into it, temptin' me with your yarns of treasure, and bein' as rich as a Jew, and a lot more rot o' the same sort, and now, here I am, landed—"

"There, that will do, my man," interrupted Leslie, sharply, as Nicholls deftly proceeded to lash the fellow's hands behind him; "your repentance comes just a little too late to be of any use to you. You are a mutineer and a murderer, and you must take the consequences of your evil deeds."

"What do you know about it?" growled the man who had been addressed as Burton. "Who's been blowin' the gaff to you? If it's Turnbull that's been doin' a split, I'll wring his neck for 'im!"

"There, sir, number one is all right," exclaimed Nicholls as he stepped away from his victim. "If he gets adrift I'll give him leave to eat me, body and bones! Shall I go ahead with this other chap now?"

"Yes," assented Leslie; "truss him up, and let us have done with them both as quickly as possible."

Burton, who was an immensely powerful fellow, poured forth a volley of the most horrible curses and threats as Nicholls approached him; but Leslie stood but half a dozen paces from him, with his revolver levelled straight at the fellow's head, and a stern word of caution sufficed to quell the fast-rising inclination to resistance that shone in the man's eyes; he subsided suddenly to a state of sullen silence, and submitted in his turn to be bound. The whole episode had not occupied more than five minutes, at the outside. Then, with their hands firmly secured behind them, the two men were marched off to the hut that had been built by the savages, where they were compelled to lie down and submit to a further process of binding, upon the completion of which they found themselves absolutely helpless; for now both their hands and their feet were lashed together so tightly and securely that it was quite impossible for them to move otherwise than to give an occasional feeble, impotent wriggle.

This accomplished to their complete satisfaction, Leslie and Nicholls returned to the tent, and resumed their alternate vigils until the morning; for they knew not what arrangements these men might have made with their fellow-mutineers, and deemed it wisest not to relax their vigilance now until the entire adventure had been brought to a successful issue.