"Nine miles from the shore of my native village there is a most dreadful sand-bank, in the form of the letter U, which at low tide is frequently bare, while at high tide not more than two fathoms of water cover it. It has been a death-trap to many a stout vessel, and at the time I am speaking of had nothing near it in the form of a lighthouse, lightship, or even a buoy to mark its dread presence. At daybreak on a rough November morning the look-out on duty discovered that a small trading schooner was fast on the sands, and after the usual half-hour's excitement in the village the surf boat, containing eleven men, was launched and proceeded to the wreck. There was quite a little party of my family aboard, as beside myself, the crew also contained my father, brother, and two cousins.

"To make a long story short, I will simply say, that after a three hours' exhausting pull we reached the vessel, but were grieved to find that of the crew of six hands, only one was left alive. Our attention was therefore turned to the saving of this poor sailor, who had lashed himself to the bowsprit, where he had sat all through the cold night, and was so benumbed that he could scarcely speak. We shouted to him, and made him understand that if he would cut his lashings, we would when opportunity served, pull the boat under the bowsprit so that as we glided by he might drop in and be saved. His knife was quickly at work, and to show that he was free he held up his hands and moved himself on the bowsprit. We gave him a cheer, and watching our best time, glided in on the crest of a wave to deliver the poor fellow. Alas! in his excitement he jumped too soon, and dropped between the bows of the vessel and our heavy boat. His head was for a second visible on the surface, but before an arm could be stretched out to save him the two vessels came crash together, with his head between them. A gush of blood was all we saw of him, for the next moment we were all in the sea, struggling for our own lives. Our boat had stove its bows in against the ship, which we had approached too closely, in our endeavour to save the poor man.

"I was fortunate enough to secure an oar, and working gradually to leeward of the wreck, with great exertion at length got aboard, where, to my joy, I found my father. The boat still floated bottom upwards, with five men upon the keel, who were constantly lashed by the cold waves, till presently a larger wave than the others broke the hold of two of the men, and washed them into eternity. Gradually in the swirl and foam of the mighty waters the boat beat round to the leeward of the ship, and I then saw that the men on the keel were my two cousins and brother. They could all swim, and seeing that my father and I were ready with ropes, quitted their precarious seat on the keel, and struck out towards the ship. My brother and cousin Phillipe, after a terrible struggle, were drawn aboard, but Gabriel, who could not swim so strongly, presently became exhausted and cried out for a rope. The distance appeared too far to fling it, but with a powerful swing my father threw the coil, the end of which fell a yard short of the swimmer. If I live a thousand years I shall never forget the look of despair upon my cousin's face as he sank back in the water completely exhausted. As his head disappeared his hand, like an eagle's claw, came above the surface of the water and gave one wild clutch at the rope which should have proved his salvation, then it disappeared also, and he was no more.

"Thus, out of eleven men, only four were saved. Incredible as it may seem, these were all of them relatives—my brother, father, cousin, and self—it was quite a family party. We were taken off the wreck in the afternoon by another boat and safely landed. Ducas was a lucky name that day, and so it proved three years after, for my brother was the only survivor when his fishing boat was run down, and a crew of eight men perished."

Seeing that we had just had one melancholy recital I thought it best to start something more pleasant, so I handed Alec a large mug of coffee, and said:

"Take a drink, my comrade, and while you are slaking your thirst I will spin you a drinking story."

Then I recounted to him the story of Count Tilly of Brabant, and the Holy Prior. How, during one of Tilly's numerous campaigns, a certain town held out far too long for the general's liking, but at last it was forced to surrender. Tilly had six of the chief men brought before him, and commanded, as the town had laughed at his terms, that they should die, to expiate the rest of the citizens. All kinds of conditions were laid before him to avoid the doom of these unfortunate men, but they were of no avail with him; he was implacable. One, Prior Hirsch, sought him and tried to melt his adamantine heart, and being a man of experience with human foibles, concluded to try the effect of some of the good old wine for which the country is famous, and his own monastery in particular. A huge flagon being introduced, filled with some of the very "A1" of the district, Tilly was induced to try some.

"Very good wine indeed," exclaimed the General, "but it is no use your trying to get round me in that way to pardon your burgesses, for I can no more turn from my word than you can empty this goodly flagon at a draught."

"Is the case indeed so hopeless?" said the priest.

"Yes, indeed," said the Count rising, "Drink me the contents of this flagon at a draught, and your citizens are free; else at noon they swing," and with a mocking smile on his lips he was about to stride out of the room, when the priest arrested his steps with,

"One moment, good Count, and I will e'en essay the task."

Then, taking up the flagon, which held thirteen pints, he emptied it to the very dregs, and fell back into his townsmen's arms.

Tilly was as good as his word, and released his captives.

"Whew!" whistled Alec; "where's the salt box? Thirteen pints at a draught—thirteen pints! Why, your old priest would make a good second to our maire's cat!"

"What did his cat do?" queried I, innocently.

"Oh, I thought everyone had heard of Curat's cat," premised Alec. "You must know that his cat was growing old and spiteful, so he determined to kill it; but although he tried various means, and got very near accomplishing his end on several occasions the cat would always appear again to trouble him. One evening, as a final effort in assassination, before retiring to bed, he tied a heavy piece of iron round the cat's neck, and dropped it into a water-butt which stood in his garden. Next morning he was down betimes, and standing on the tiptoe both of expectation and of his boots, he peeped over the edge of the tub, when lo! there, on the bottom of the butt sat the cat looking up at him with tears in her eyes, for she was too heavily anchored to climb out."

But I broke in, "Where was the water?"

"Well, you see," said Alec, "being her only means of escape, she had swallowed it, as your priest did the wine, which accounted for her swollen condition. So now, Mr. Thirteen Pints, I think we are about quits."

We were; Alec scored a point.



CHAPTER XVII.

THE WILL AGAIN—SEARCHING FOR A CLUE TO THE PAPER—BARBE ROUGE'S WILL—A PROBABLE CLUE—HOPES AND DOUBTS—PERPLEXED—A MEMORABLE TRAWL BY MOONLIGHT—A REAL CLUE AT LAST—THE PLACE OF THE SKULL FOUND.

As soon as I was able I went out walking each day, and so rapid was my convalescence that in ten days I was quite myself again. Alec had during my enforced idleness been extra busy, and had made both house and garden look very trim. He had not been able to go far away, for fear I might want him, and thus had spent his time near home.

From joking in the first instance we had now become quite familiar with our new appellations; thus I was Crusoe, and Alec was Monday, that being the day on which I saved him. For the sake of being as near like the hero of Juan Fernandez as possible, I should have liked to call him Friday; in fact, Good Friday, but as he came on the wrong day, Monday had to be his name.

As I write these pages, I can, in fancy, hear his voice shouting to me on the island,

"Crusoe! Crusoe! where are you? Rob—in—son Cru—soe, ahoy!"

Being August, the fruit was ripe and very plentiful; in fact, it seemed a sin to see it hang on the bushes and trees till it dropped upon the ground, simply to serve the purpose of manure. To obviate this we made a whole copper full of jam, and in making it we got into a pretty pickle, both of us being up to our elbows in stickiness, but the jam was prime!

Whatever I did, or wherever I went, the paper I had found in the old leathern cup always haunted me. Moreover, when it did not haunt me, I haunted it; for I took it to various parts of the island, and taking my stand in a certain place, would represent the spot shewn by the skull in the drawing. Then Monday would measure in various directions to see if he could get the measurements correct to certain rocks or tree stumps, to see if they tallied with the paper, but it was no use, nothing would coincide with that faded paper.

We tried the Crevichon, but nothing there agreed; then La Fauconnaire, but could make nothing of that either, so we had again to let the matter rest.

One day, however, it suddenly struck me that as none of the trees on the island were one hundred years old, I might have spared myself the trouble of attempting them when making my calculations and measurements.

By the way, perhaps it would be as well to state what the precise contents of my document were. Here is a copy:—

"This is the Will of Jean Tussaud, Master Mariner of C—— (sometimes called Barbe Rouge). To the person who is lucky enough to find my treasure house, I herewith declare him to be my heir, and whatsoever he may find shall be his, and for his sole benefit.

"My chief mate, William Trefry, a Cornish man, wished to become my heir before my death, but I could not agree with him on that point, although I left him in possession of the key of my 'petites fees' (little fairies). The key and a valuable knife are all I gave him.

"The bearings of my treasure house are these:—



"The lucky one will find the following property.... (Here follows a list of many valuable articles, and winds up with), 'and lastly my pretty box of petites fees.'

"I leave Jethou to-night to join my vessel, which is about to make a voyage to the West Indies, to see what business can be done there. I leave this paper, so that should I never return, the goods I have so industriously and riskily gathered together, may still be of service to someone who may have skill enough to discover their whereabouts.

Signed

"JEAN TUSSAUD (Barbe Rouge),

"Feb. 19, 17—."

Here was a puzzle to which for weeks I could obtain no clue whatever, but one day as I was sitting under the shade of the huge walnut tree overlooking the garden, the idea came into my mind that this kind of tree flourishes for generations, and from the gigantic proportions of this particular tree, it must be a great deal more than a century old.

I found Monday, and asked him how old he thought it would be, and he gave it as his opinion that it was one hundred and fifty years old, if it was a day. Then said I,

"What is the French for walnut tree?"

"Noyer," was his reply, and into my pocket went my hand to bring out the mystic document to see if there was an N on the chart. Joy, there was, and at sight of it my hand trembled violently, and I felt ready to choke with excitement, as I believed I had now a key to the finding of the treasure.

Monday was as excited as myself, all he could exclaim was, "Oh, la, la! Oh, la, la!" which was with him a mark of supreme delight.

We fetched the yard measure, and commenced our survey, as I shrewdly guessed the fine old mulberry tree had something to do with the calculations; if so the distance from the mulberry tree (Murier accounting for the letter M) to the walnut tree would be twenty-four yards; so we measured, but could not make the distance correct, as we made it 26-2/3 yards, or just eight feet too much. This quite nonplussed us, and our excitement greatly abated; but we were not yet vanquished, and set our wits to work to discover the meaning of another of the letters from which we could take further measurements.

Being near N (the walnut tree) I walked round the garden wall to the point marked EC, but could there find no landmark at all from which to measure. A century ago something may have stood there, but now it was a bare spot. Here was another rebuff which seemed to upset my theory altogether, and Monday with long visage said,

"Crusoe, you are on the wrong scent, you have 'shaken hands with a shadow.'"

"Wait a bit, Monday. 'A cracked pitcher will hold some water,' and although I may be wrong on some of the points, I may find at least one correct one presently."

We then walked along to the corner of the wall at the angle of which was the letter P. At this point stood the well.

"What is French for 'well', Monday."

"Puit."

"Puit?"

At this I gave a yell of delight.

"Eureka! I believe. Measure away, good comrade; measure away!"

"Where to, noble Crusoe?"

"Ah, where," said I to myself. "Well, measure off twelve yards towards the centre of the garden, and see if it cuts the line between the mulberry tree and the big walnut."

We measured to the wall and climbed over, and continued our measuring, but alas, it went beyond the bee-line between the two trees by about five feet! Wrong again!

Now I began to get angry, as I saw Monday was laughing up his sleeve at me, and I called him Alec to shew him I was not in a laughing humour but thoroughly in earnest.

I walked along next inside the wall to about the point on the paper marked P, which appeared to me to be at the window of the house.

"What is window, Alec?"

"Fenetre."

That would not do.

"Now look here, Alec, you are laughing at me again, and I don't like it; laugh some other time, but for the present give me your full attention, and don't be a ninny. It is no joking matter, but one upon which I am very serious and anxious, as I believe there is something attached to this quest which is really worth a little trouble to elucidate."

"And," replied he, still smiling, "when you get to the end of your quest, I believe you will 'shake hands with a shadow' as I told you before. But, Bold Crusoe, I will do my best to help you as a good comrade should, so I will bottle up my hilarious mood till you find your treasure, and then I will explode."

"Very well, Monday," I replied. "I trust soon to be able to make you have a perfect earthquake when I shew you Old Barbe Rouge's 'Petites fees.' Fenetre will not do. Now what are we standing near that commences in French with the letter P?"

Monday looked about and quickly said,

"La porte, the door, porche, the porch; how will they do?"

"Capital! now we are surely on the right track."

So again we brought our measuring stick into play, but again the measure was not quite right, but still not far out. We made it nearly eleven yards instead of ten, and although not perfectly correct, it gave me great hope.

With but little trouble we made out the letters PM to be Porte Magasin (door of the store house), and again we were about a yard too much in the measurement. So we left it, and proceeded to the last point, the letters CC.

The point was outside the walls, and the longest distance of all—the figures twenty being written on the line. As in the other instances I asked Monday the names of all kinds of objects to locate the letters CC, but failed in this, except that I presumed C might be Chaumiere = Cottage.

Next taking our stand at the point which we supposed the centre of the diagram—the place of the skull—we measured twenty yards towards the cottage, but it fell short of the nearest point of the building by nearly six feet; therefore probably it did not refer to the cottage at all.

We assumed therefore, that a tree or some such object, to which the letters CC referred, once stood on what was now a pathway joining the cottage.

We paused in our search for the day, resolving on the morrow to try our luck by digging a deep hole in the garden at the spot which we thought was the axis of the different radial measurements.

"Begum" followed us about like a district surveyor, and seemed to know something was on foot as well as himself.

Our work of fishing, shooting, and field work seemed quite in the background, and very insignificant compared with my treasure hunt; but Alec seemed to be quite indifferent to it; in fact, I think he had an idea that my fall had slightly shaken my brain, and perhaps addled it. I more than suspected this, for I noticed he kept his eye ever on me, and would scarcely let me out of his sight. Good, faithful fellow!

"What say you to a sail this evening, Crusoe?"

"Just the thing, Monday; it is such a glorious night, and the cool breeze will do us good. What do you say to a drag with the trawl?"

"The very thing; more fish are caught in one night than in two days, so let's set to at once, that is, after a good substantial tea."

The meal being finished, we soon got the trawl and gear aboard the "Anglo-Franc," and away we went in the lovely moonlight, scouring the bottom of the Perchee between the head of Jethou and the tail of Herm. The latter island looked delightful in the pale greenish light of the moon, while Crevichon towering up against the sky, with the moon behind it, caused it to look like a silhouette cut out of black cardboard.

"Who would be stifled up in a town with wealth and its attending cares, in preference to this life of liberty I was leading?" I asked myself, and for answer gave, "While one is young, full of health, and with no encumbrances, a Bohemian life is all very well; but what when a wife and family are dependent on one? That puts a different complexion on the matter, for one can roam no more."

I recollect this night well, for I revelled in its very antithesis to life in England. Everything seemed so strange and quiet; the great black rocks casting their shadows over the phosphorescent waves; the star-studded sky, with the pale round moon, across which a gentle breeze wafted silvery gauze-like clouds; the feeling of motion, the sense of freedom, the love of labour to haul the net, the expectation of what would be our luck, the merry badinage between my comrade and me, our little songs between the hauls, and a score of other things cause me to look back upon this night (and many others) with the thought, "Shall I ever know such happiness again?"

Many persons, yes, most persons, must have recollections of past pure delights that steal across their memories of things which happened long years ago, and cause them to ask themselves the same question, "Shall I ever know such happiness again?"

Why not? It always seems to strike me that when we are supremely happy, we do not realise it at the time; but when the happy time has fled, and has become a memory, we long for its return in vain. We long in vain for that particular pleasure, but there are present joys for us to which at the time we do not give heed enough, or instead of bemoaning the past (which has flown) we should live and enjoy the tangible present.

From moralising to fishing is a long jump, but we must take the leap and attend to our net again.

After two or three hauls we had almost enough fish, but Alec said, "One more for luck," and he being Skipper afloat, I Commandant ashore, like a good A.B., I obeyed. We had caught several fair soles, but our last haul brought us up two of the largest it has been my lot to capture.

"They are two, but not a pair," remarked Alec.

Neither were they, for when they were measured one was nineteen and a half inches long, and the other exactly twenty-three inches. We christened them Adam and Eve, and like a couple of cannibals declared our intention of eating them for our supper when we got ashore.

As we sailed slowly in against the tide, the question arose who should devour Adam and who Eve; so we agreed to guess the length of the trawl beam between the irons for choice of fish.

I guessed first: "Ten feet."

"There," said Monday, "you have nearly taken my guess out of my mouth, for I was going to say three metres, and that makes it about, let me see, nine feet ten inches."

"How much is a metre?" I asked eagerly.

"Why about thirty-nine inches and a quarter of your measure," was his ready reply.

"Then," I rejoined, bubbling over with excitement, "I've discovered the measurements in the document. Why Old Barbe Rouge was a Frenchman, and of course used French measure,—the metre! Hurrah!" and I made the rocks echo with my excited hurrahs and loud laughter.

Adam and Eve were duly cooked, but they were not half eaten, for either they were too large or our appetites too small by reason of our great excitement; anyhow, Adam would have sufficed for us both, and Eve would have made a capital breakfast for us in the morning. As it was, the mangled remains of the patriarchs remained for our dinner the next day, as breakfast was, under the circumstances of what happened next day, quite out of the question.

As we did not get to bed till four a.m. we were not up till ten; in fact, I slept but little, as dreams of treasure islands, fairy land, and wonderful nuggets of gold persistently kept me tossing about feverishly, till my comrade ran in and wanted to know if he was to dig the treasure up before I was out of bed.

I sprang out of bed and dressed, and in five minutes we were busy with paper and rule.

Hurrah! with metres instead of yards the distances tallied within a few inches, so that near the centre of the garden we had a number of pegs stuck in the mould all round a currant bush, of perhaps three or four years' growth, which had thus accidentally marked the spot that was indicated by a skull on the paper.

Now came Alec's turn for excitement, and he was intensely excited. I must say I liked my form of excitement best, for Monday seemed completely off his head, and was gesticulating like a monkey dancing a hornpipe on hot bricks; he was fairly beside himself. I took mine in a calmer manner, that is, although I was brimful and even bubbling over with it, I did not rave, but kept as cool as possible, and I remember at the time thinking it was due to our different nationalities, the excitable and phlegmatic temperaments predominating in the two individuals and giving character. Probably a stranger looking on would have thought us either a couple of fools or a pair of lunatics.

Off came our jackets, and our sleeves were quickly rolled above our elbows, displaying arms as brown as those of gypsies.

Monday took the pick and I the shovel, and to work we went.

I must not forget to mention that I had told Alec that whatever we found I should consider it my duty to give up to M. Oudin as the real proprietor of the island, and to this he readily assented, mentioning that he at all events could say nothing to my plans, as he was simply my assistant, my Monday.



CHAPTER XVIII.

DIGGING FOR THE TREASURE—A NOONDAY REST—THE GHASTLY TENANT OF THE TREASURE HOUSE—WE FIND THE TREASURE—AN ACCOUNT OF WHAT WE DISCOVERED.

By noon we had a well-like hole about seven feet deep, and found as we dug that the soil became drier the lower we went, which was unusual, as generally it gets more moist, so that digging at length becomes very arduous.

Although not more than seven feet deep, the earth we had piled all round made the hole look at least ten feet to the bottom, and it had now become very difficult to throw the earth over the edge of the opening above.

It was a hot August day, and the sun poured its almost vertical rays upon us, so that the perspiration broke out at every pore, and bathed us in moisture; but still we toiled on, till, as I say, noon arrived, without our finding any token of treasure trove.

Then said Monday, "What say you now of your quest, Crusoe? Don't you think it's all moonshine, or rather (wiping the perspiration from his brow) sunshine and shadow?"

I was fain to confess that it did seem like it, but asked,

"Will you help me dig to a depth of ten feet from the surface? and if nothing gives indication of what we are in search, I will then give up."

"What, dig down ten feet, and be buried alive in this crumbling grave? Just look at it, it is ready even now to tumble its sides in upon us."

"Well, but," persisted I, "let us shore it up as we go down."

"Very well then," he rejoined, "but I bargain for one hour's rest before we delve further, and here goes for a swim."

Then climbing up our improvised ladder away he went to the beach, whither "Begum" and I quickly followed, and in five minutes we, who had been so lately in a grave, were swimming about in the deliriously cool water, dog and men thoroughly enjoying the exhilarating reaction.

Our bathe being over, we strolled up to the house, and made another attack upon Adam and Eve, and this time finished them; they were delicious. As Monday would have his full sixty minutes' cessation, just as Shylock would have his pound of flesh, we smoked the rest of the time away, and then resumed our labours.

We first took the precaution to shore up the sides of our pit with stout pieces of wreckage and any other wood we could find, for fear of a landslip, which might have resulted in serious if not fatal consequences to us.

Before we had dug ten minutes my spade struck on something hard and hollow, which quite startled us; but clearing the mould away from the spot, I soon discovered the impediment to be a kind of wooden floor. This we quickly cleared, and found it covered a space about four feet by three. As we lifted the first piece with great expectancy, we found it was oak, about two inches thick, and very little the worse for its long burial, as the surrounding soil was dry.

We looked into the narrow aperture left by the taking out of the oaken plank, but could see nothing, as the depth of our pit made it somewhat dark at the bottom, so I knelt down, and thrust my hand through the opening and felt about. Presently I felt something hard, like a bundle of sticks, and with a tug drew them through the opening, only to drop them the next minute with a cry of horror, for it was a skeleton's hand that came to view in my grasp.

We looked at each other in dismay, as if to say,

"How awful! what shall we do now?"

Then we paused, and looked at each other again, till I broke out with,

"There, Alec, your prophecy has come true, I have 'shaken hands with a shadow,' or what is very near it—a skeleton. What shall we do next?"

"Had we not better take up the flooring and see if we have come simply upon a grave or what else is beneath us?"

To this I acquiesced. The hole we had dug was about six feet square, to enable both of us to work in it at once; so in this pit or chamber we had plenty of room, and as I have already said, the oak floor we came upon was only four feet by three feet, so that we could stand at the side of the flooring as we removed it piece by piece.

At last we had taken up the nine narrow pieces of oak which formed the floor, and there before us lay the entire skeleton of a man, some remnants of the clothes still covering parts of the frame, and a few locks of yellow hair still adhering to the cranium.

The skeleton was lying face downward, and neither of us liked to turn it over to see if anything could be gathered from an inspection of the front of it, or to ascertain if anything were hidden beneath it; so we both knelt down, and bodily lifted the light but hideous occupant of this awful pit, and placed it in a sitting posture in one corner. As we did so, first a foot and then a leg dropped off at the knee joint, and fell back into the hole, which sent an indescribable thrill of horror through me, and no doubt it acted upon Alec in the same manner.

When we came to look at the awful thing, Alec noticed something glitter at its breast, and reaching forth his hand, attempted to take it to see what it was.

He gave the object a pull, but instead of coming away in his hand, it only had the effect of pulling the ghastly form down upon him, so that the orbless skull came with some force, right into his face. He uttered a cry of dismay, and was about to fly up the ladder, when I arrested his movements by bursting out laughing. The whole thing, although hideous and startling, was rendered ludicrous by the accelerated movements of Alec when the grinning jaws snapped right in his face. To save himself from falling into the hole beneath, he clutched the frail form round the body, causing its rags and bones to fall in tatters and pieces on to something below, which gave a metallic ring.



The first shock of his fright being over, for he thought the man had come to life again, we again propped it up in the corner, and examined it closely.

The glittering projection on the breast was the jewelled haft of a dagger, the blade of which was thrust quite through the sternum or breastbone, showing that a most powerful blow had given the poor man, whoever he was, his quietus. Death must have been instantaneous, for the position of the blade shewed that it had probably passed quite through the heart.

Another thing also attracted our attention; this was a pair of keys suspended round the neck by a rusty chain. We took possession of both dagger and keys; then placing the bony one in a piece of sail cloth, hoisted him above ground and covered him up.

Down into the hole we went again, almost breathless with excitement, and recommenced our now light task of making further search for whatever might be of value, being fully persuaded that something really worth having now awaited us.

Nor were we wrong in our conjecture, for the first things we came upon were four large dishes of metal, resembling gold; but as they had been rolled up like a scroll by some great force, we did not stop to unroll them to enquire of what metal they really were. Beside them were five or six golden cups of curious work, being beautifully chased, two of them containing jewels in the band of raised work which encircled the stems. Then there were two utensils about a foot high, something in shape between a pitcher and a flagon, which were perfect in form, not a dent being visible in them, their only blemish being the tarnish with which more than a century had marred them, but this could easily be removed.

There were many bundles containing lace, but for the most part this was so mouldy and musty, that it came to pieces with very little pulling, so we threw it aside. Then we came upon quite an armoury of swords, daggers, and pistols; but as most of them were much rusted, we only selected a few of the better preserved ones, and left the rest.

Among those we kept were three pairs of pistols, one pair of which were a marvel of workmanship. The barrels were of silver, and engraved all over with fruit and flowers, while the stocks of ivory were also carved in every part, and were quite perfect, not even discoloured like the wood work in the pit. They were wrapped in soft leather, and enclosed in a velvet case which was in a somewhat discoloured and decayed state, but still in a sufficiently whole form to preserve the pistols intact.

Several swords I kept for decorative purposes, and also some of the huge flintlock pistols.

The bottom of the treasure-hole was filled with bundles of what had once been costly garments of silk, velvet, satin, cloth with gold braid, and wonderfully fine linen; but these were now useless, for time had quite spoiled them. Among these raiments of a bygone age were a number of copes, chasubles, stoles, and such-like ecclesiastic raiment; there was also a beautifully worked mitre, and as these were in good condition we kept them. Their preservation was evidently owing to their being contained in a bullock's hide, which was sewn together apparently by the sinews of the same animal.

Then we came upon a whole pile of sashes, and breeches, and boots, and goodness knows what in the way of wearing apparel, all in a state of dry rot; in fact, they made such a dust that we ascended to terra firma for a few minutes to get it out of our throats.

We now appeared to have cleared the place, but what of the "petite fees"? Had we seen them or what were they? To make sure we had secured everything, we cleared the hole completely out, and in doing so luckily saw the end of a box protruding from the side of the treasure chamber. A kind of cave or tunnel had been made for the reception of this chest, and it was a wonder we did not miss seeing it altogether.

No doubt it contained the "petite fees," whatever they were; but to our astonishment it was so heavy we could not move it. We therefore set to work, and cleared away the surrounding earth, and by dint of hard tugging in the confined space, we at length drew it from its hiding place into the centre of the pit. It was securely locked with two huge padlocks.

We concluded we would hoist it out of its bed and examine it at our leisure above ground. To compass this we had to erect a kind of tripod of three long pieces of deal, which had evidently at some time been top-sail yards of some vessel probably wrecked on rocky Jethou. From this we suspended a block and fall, and soon had our iron chest safely above ground.

About this time an unaccountable feeling seized us both; I know not what it was, but it appeared to us that we were doing something wrong, violating the grave of the dead man near us, or something of the kind.

We seemed to feel that the bones should again be buried as quickly as possible, for fear someone should see us at our task. Why this feeling came over us I know not, but it did, so we fastened the rope attached to the block round the waist of the grinning skeleton, and commenced to lower him into his last home again; but he saved us further trouble by breaking in two just above the hips and falling into the bottom of the well-like hole. We quickly covered him with old clothes and hid him from view.

It was a work of some difficulty to get the iron chest to the house, but this we accomplished at last with the donkey's help, and having brought in the other goods, we cleared up for the day, completely tired out.

At nine o'clock, an hour after supper, we retired to bed, each of us fancying we should have our rest stopped by hideous dreams; but we were mistaken, for we slept like the dead in the pit till six o'clock, when we arose much refreshed by our long night's rest.

It was raining fast, and as the drops pattered on the window pane, they seemed like tears for the poor fellow lying unburied in the hole yonder; but we let him lie unburied, as we knew he was past all harm from catarrh or rheumatism, and every other ailment of this world.

We did not go out all day, but devoted our time to examining the great find. The keys (as we suspected) which depended from the neck of the skeleton, belonged to the iron chest; but as they were rusty, we had to clean the wards with oil and ashes, but even then we could not shoot the bolts in the locks, as probably they were rusty. There was but one way left, and that was to raise the lid by force; but even this we did in a gentle manner by filing through the hinges and finishing with a few taps from a heavy hammer.

No wonder the chest was so heavy, for the bottom of it was covered with seventeen leather bags, each containing one hundred Spanish coins, called doubloons, which I believe are worth for the mere intrinsic value of the metal, about ten shillings each, but their monetary value was about twelve shillings and sixpence each. This was something like a find.

At the end of the chest was a portion partitioned off, which contained two drawers, a large and a small one, both of iron, lined with wood. The large one contained three parchment books written in French, the first of which Alec declared was an account of the life of Barbe Rouge, and the other two were log books of his various voyages.[5]

In the right hand or small drawer was a very small gold casket of exquisite workmanship, filled quite full of precious stones in their natural rough state, together with a few cut gems of medium size. I should say altogether they would have just filled a half-pint measure; not that I believe they are ever sold in this manner, as if they were nuts or peas. These then were Tussaud's "petite fees," and pretty ones too.

Of course we put a fabulous price on this part of our treasure; I think in our ignorance we mentioned ten thousand pounds as about their value; but when they were sold in London some months after, in a well-known auction room, they realised but little more than a tithe of this amount.

Next day being fine we carefully filled the hole up again, ramming the earth down with a heavy wooden ram, and finished up by replanting the currant bush, which I believe still lives, or its descendant, to mark the spot where we discovered Jean (Barbe Rouge) Tussaud's treasures.

We presumed at the time that the skeleton we found was that of the mate, William Treffry, mentioned in the document, who had quarrelled with Red Beard as to the property, and that the latter had stabbed him to the heart, afterwards throwing the corpse upon the treasure, thus burying his guilt and his goods at the same time. A translation of the books we found corroborated us in this surmise, and accounted for many other things regarding the property which at the time we could not understand.

I may add that among the clothing, we found a number of odds and ends, relics of the eighteenth century, which I still treasure in my home, one room of which forms quite a respectable museum, as since my sojourn in Jethou I have brought many curious things from Holland, France, and Spain, many of which have pleasant stories attached to them.

We found miniature portraits of a Spanish gentleman, and a handsome fresh-coloured young lady with an English name, for their names were painted round the margin; a pair of gloves apparently blood-stained, a case of writing materials, four jewelled rings, a tress of dark brown hair nearly four feet long, an English Bible, two watches with enamelled cases (about the size of small turnips), and several other things which need not be mentioned here, but of which we discovered the history in the parchment books.[6]



FOOTNOTES:

5: These books I have since had translated, and find them to be full of "Red Beard's" personal adventures; most of them of such an interesting nature, that coupled with our discovery of his treasure, and what I have since learned of him from various sources, I have no doubt the public would be interested in them. Possibly at no very distant period I may publish a book embodying the principal adventures set forth in these manuscripts, as many of the events in the life of Barbe Rouge are of a startling character.

6: See Appendix—"Modern Treasures."



CHAPTER XIX.

PREPARING TO LEAVE—A LETTER HOME—WE LENGTHEN AND ENLARGE THE "ANGLO-FRANC"—RE-CHRISTEN HER, "HAPPY RETURN"—LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT—VICTUALLING AND STOWING CARGO—PRETTY JEANETTE—THE LONG VOYAGE—INCIDENTS EN ROUTE—VEGETARIANS, AND THEIR DIET—YARMOUTH REACHED—FRESHWATER NAVIGATION—MY NATIVE HEATH.

After our discovery my sole thought seemed to be of home. In fact, I was now as ready to leave the island, as I was, eighteen months before to land upon it, and the last fortnight, although it could not have been pleasanter, seemed as if it would never end.

I appeared to go about my work in a mechanical way, and only three things seemed to have much joy for me—my home, parents, and Priscilla.

How should I get home was the next question? I knew my father's vessels were all out to the herring harvest, which begins in August, and ends just before Christmas, so that it was very unlikely he would send for me. Beside this, I wanted to give them a surprise by popping in upon them when they least expected me. To this proceeding, however, there was one great drawback, for, like a true Crusoe, I lacked money, having but a few shillings to call my own. True, I had the Spanish doubloons; but then, again, they were not mine, and if they were they were foreign coins and out of date also, so that no one would have accepted them as current coin.

"What is to be done?" I asked my companion.

"Done! Why there are several ways that I can think of," said Alec, after a pause; "but first and foremost, why not go home in the 'Anglo-Franc?'"

"Monday, you're joking."

"Not at all. We have been out on several rough nights in her, and surely, Norfolk is not such a great way off, that we need fear such a voyage in early September. By your leave I will go with you and act as skipper and pilot, and then, having taken you safely home, will resume my post as King of Jethou. What do you say?"

"But the 'Anglo-Franc' is too small, my good sir."

"Perhaps so; but in a week we can lengthen her, and by adding a couple of strakes to her upper works she will carry a ton more than she does now, if it should be necessary."

"Agreed, Alec. Your hand! Good thought!"

The more I turned it over in my mind the better I liked the project. Why not lengthen and strengthen her at once?

Without delay we would set about it; but to make sure that my father would not send a vessel for me, I would write him a line. As with my former letter, brevity marked my epistle.

"Jethou, "August 21st, 18—.

"DEAR FATHER,

"All's well. I hope to arrive home about September 10th, and trust to find you all well.

"Your affectionate Son,

"HARRY NILFORD."

Then, launching the boat, I instructed Alec to take the letter to Herm, so that the first boat crossing would take it to the St. Peter Port post office.

I stood and watched him as he neared the little pier at the landing place of Herm, and before he had arrived within two hundred yards of the place, the whole population—men, women, and children—turned out to see him. I am not sure but that the entire population was waiting to receive him, for I could only count twelve persons. I think they could not muster more than two or three more, all told, so that his reception was a grand one.

Having instructions from me not to land, he handed the letter up in a cleft stick, and pushing off a boat's length, had a chat with the natives.

"They all spoke at once," said he, "and would not give me time enough to answer their questions, so they got very little information from me. There was one very nice girl there though, that I should like to know, and when I get back from England, I think I shall try and see her parents, for I shall be very lonely all by myself, when you are gone."

Poor fellow! He had fallen in love at first sight with a vengeance. But it is just like we poor men; we are no sooner in possession of enough means to live comfortably upon, than we are sure to want to share it with someone else, providing the someone else is a pretty and loveable woman. Right away from the Creation it has been the same. Adam and Eve set us young fellows an example that it seems will never die out—at least I hope not till we have all found Eves to our liking.

The next ten days we worked very hard, for we lengthened the "Anglo-Franc" nearly five feet amidships, and built her up nearly a foot above her old gunwale, so that by raising the deck or roof of the cuddy forward about fourteen inches, and lengthening it a couple of feet, we had quite a cosy little cabin.

It was wonderful what a remarkable difference these alterations made in her appearance. True, she was only some six inches broader in the beam, but now that she was lengthened amidships she was over twenty feet long, and could stand larger and taller masts. These we soon gave her, so that she now appeared as a half-decked lugger, and, considering our materials and tools, quite a smart little craft.

My occupation of Jethou, according to the agreement, ceased on September 2nd, and as it was now the last day of August, we set about putting everything in order previous to leaving on the 3rd, should the weather prove fine.

It would never do to leave the island without someone in charge; and as we neither of us knew anyone who would act while Alec was away, we were again in a quandary. At last I hit on a bright idea, one that made my comrade's eyes sparkle with delight.

"Did you not say that the pretty damsel of Herm had a father?" I asked.



"Yes," said Alec, "and a mother too. Would you like them to come over and take charge? Yes? Oh! la! la!!"

Then the simple fellow gambolled about like a young schoolboy, and exclaimed, "Never mind the boat, let me try and swim over."

"Swim, Alec! Don't be a ninny. Do you want to throw your life away in such madness? Go down to the boat directly, and do not act like an ass."

Away he sailed, and soon landed at the little pier, and was quickly surrounded by the inhabitants, who took him towards the cottages out of my sight.

He was gone so long that I became impatient for his return. It almost seemed as if he had forsaken me; but at length I descried him putting off again, and soon he landed, wreathed in smiles, happiness beaming from his eyes. He had settled everything. Father, mother, and daughter were to come over at sunrise on the 3rd, so as to help us off and take final instructions.

The 1st and 2nd of September were occupied in taking in ballast, water, provisions, etc.; in overhauling all the ropes, sails, and gear, and in making a couple of beds of sacking stuffed with the softest hay we could get. Then we had to bake and fish, so as to replenish our stock of food. Fruit had to be gathered, two small kegs filled with water, and finally the treasure and all my little curiosities to be got aboard.

All this took us till long after dark on the 2nd, so that when Graviot, his wife, and daughter landed about five a.m. on the 3rd, we were both fast asleep, so much so indeed that they had difficulty in finding our whereabouts and awakening us. At last, by rattling at the windows we were aroused, and turned out to bid the old couple and their pretty daughter, Marie, welcome to Jethou.

They were very quickly busy, Marie especially, for with Alec's help she soon had the breakfast spread and all ready, and anyone with half an eye could see how matters stood between them. All appeared quite settled.

After breakfast we all walked round the island together, so that I might point out what I required done during the absence of Alec. I introduced them to "Flap," the gull, who seemed to be rather shy of them, as they were the first human beings who had been permitted to interview him since I captured him fifteen months before, except Alec. The goat, "Unicorna," and her companion, or rather son, "Butt," for she had had a son a couple of months after her landing, were next placed under Marie's protection, while my dear old friend, "Eddy," was handed over to Graviot pere, with strict injunctions to use him well and not to overload the poor fellow. He seemed to know I was going to leave him, for he thrust his nose into my hand, and made a great fuss of me as I caressed him.

At eleven a.m., all being in readiness, I strode down the well-known pathway towards our little pier for the last time, and it was not without deep regret and dim eyes that I bade farewell to the home in which the past eighteen months of my life had been passed in perfect peace, contentment, and happiness. I could not help a sigh as I thought that this was the last tide I should see rise around Jethou. The last time I should see

"The busy waters, multitudinous, Lip the dry beach, and rippling every pool, Embathe the limpets in their swirling cool, And plash upon the rocks, returning thus To their old haunts with pleasure tremulous."

I loved every rock and tree, and felt loath to part from them, for they were all old friends to me.

I almost forgot to mention that after altering and painting our noble craft, we re-christened her the "Happy Return," trusting that a good name might give us a good voyage, and I am glad to say such proved to be the case.

We calculated the distance from Jethou to Great Yarmouth to be about three hundred and fifty miles, but before our voyage was finished we found we had greatly under-estimated the actual course; but apart from the wish of getting to the journey's end, we had a most enjoyable time of it. We calculated the trip would take us about five days, if the weather were at all favourable, and in this we were not far out. Perhaps a few details of the trip may be of interest to my readers, for a voyage across the channel is not often undertaken in such a small vessel.

As I have stated, we left Jethou about noon on the 3rd, and rounded the southern end of hilly Herm, then we laid our course so as to pass between Alderney and Cape La Hogue, but for fear of rocks gave the cape a rather wide berth, so that about three o'clock we had Alderney a couple of miles off on our weather beam. I was laughing at Alec about his yarn of the "Dewdrop," when an idea occurred to me.

"What do you say to a glass of ale at the tavern you put up at in Braye for those eleven days, eh, Alec?"

"Just the thing. I have not tasted a glass for months."

"Nor I," I replied. "Swing her round," and putting the helm over, we made for Braye Harbour to get a glass of beer. The wind being south-west was somewhat against us, but in an hour we were lying safely in the little harbour, not far from the shore end of the great breakwater, which is nearly a mile in length. We had two glasses of ale each and no more, and having verified Alec's yarn of the "Dewdrop," which was substantially correct, once more embarked, and with a fair wind cut through the water at a smart race. Rounding Cape La Hogue we were fortunate to get the tide in our favour, and by sunrise on the 4th could just make out the entrance to Havre, from which we were some seven or eight miles distant, and passing Fecamp, were abreast of Dieppe at three p.m.

So far we had done remarkably well, and I proposed to Alec, that as I had a little money, we should go ashore and have a civilized dinner and a look round the town; but he took a different view of the matter, and advocated keeping on as long as the wind favoured us, and to this I readily assented, as the wind was now somewhat unsteady.

"Begum" seemed quite to enjoy the fun as well as ourselves, and made himself quite at home, though I have no doubt he would have thoroughly enjoyed a run ashore, and, as luck would have it, that night he had it.

Some twenty miles further along the coast, that is, beyond Dieppe, we met with our first mishap. The sea hereabout was decidedly choppy, and the wind very puffy, and during one of these puffs we sprung the foremast, which could not have been very strong, as the wind was not at all high. Consulting a chart of the French coast, which we had obtained at Braye, we decided, as it seemed to be setting in for a dirty night, to round in to the mouth of the river Somme and stay the night at St. Valery, so that we could get a new mast stepped early next morning, before proceeding across Channel.

It was lucky we did so, for the wind backed to the westward, raising a lumpy sea, and down came the rain till past midnight, after which the wind lulled and went to south-west again. About two a.m. out came the moon, and quickly chased away the remaining black clouds, after which it was fine again. It did not matter what the weather during the night was, as we were safe in Port St. Valery, from seven p.m. of the 4th, till eleven a.m. on the 5th.

Early in the morning we found a carpenter, who soon rigged us up a new mast, and after a stroll through the busy town to replenish our little stock of eatables, we again pursued our voyage.

From St. Valery to Boulogne is a distance of about forty-five miles, and ere we reached it darkness was closing in, so we took in a reef, as was our wont at night, and lowered the mizzen altogether. This gave us an opportunity of moving along slowly, while one of us slept.

We took it in turns throughout the night to take charge of the "Happy Return," and thus by changing watch every two hours we got a fair amount of sleep. Two hours at a stretch is all very well, but it is not comfortable to be awakened out of a sound sleep in a warm, snug cabin, to take one's turn at the helm; and I soon discovered that three turns of two hours each is not nearly equivalent to a straightaway snooze of six hours, by any means. One has just time to get comfortably off, and then, "Ahoy, there! Larboard watch, turn out!" And then out you come to set for two mortal hours in the wet stern sheets, gaping enough to dislocate your jaw, and longing for the pleasure of dragging your mate out at the expiration of the watch, while you turn into his warm bed with a chuckling "Good-night, mate."

Gaping seems to be very infectious, for on Jethou I have several times noticed that Alec and I, as bed time approached, would sit and gape at each other in a most alarming manner, yet not apparently taking heed of each other's performances, but gradually catching the infection unawares.

On this particular night I gaped so as to be in danger of hitching my upper teeth over the foremast head, in which case I must have swallowed the whole mast, or have signalled to Alec for assistance.

Making the run across from Cape Griznez to Dover is no place for gaping, let alone sleeping; for vessels are so continually passing to and fro that one requires all their wits about them to keep clear of the steamers. These monsters, with their red and green eyes, came looming up so noiselessly in the still night, without the least warning (save these same eyes) of approaching danger, that I almost shuddered as they passed just ahead or astern, to think what might happen if either one of us slept for only a few minutes on his post. Just a crash, a scream, and all would be over, and the great steamer would most likely pass along on her voyage, and no one be the wiser that a couple of lives had been sacrificed to Morpheus.

When morning dawned the dear old chalk cliffs of Dover were looking down upon our little cockle-shell, as she rose upon each glittering wave, and looking up at those gigantic white cliffs, we seemed really to be at home. Here was England at last, and I could not resist the temptation of running into the harbour to once more put foot on my native land. We got in about seven, and had a stroll about the hilly old place, then went to a dining-room and had such a breakfast as my slim purse would afford. We then gave "Begum" (who looked after the vessel while we were away) a run ashore for half an hour, while we trimmed up and made all snug.

At about half-past nine on the 6th we left the harbour in brilliant sunshine, Ramsgate and Margate looking gay with their flags, yachts, bathing machines, white houses, and throngs of holiday makers. The water round the English coast looks hardly clean enough to bathe in after the limpid crystal we had been used to at Jethou. It struck us as looking peculiarly chalky and turbid, but a few days reconciled us to what we shall in future have to put up with.

We kept close in to the North Foreland, to avoid the dreaded Goodwin Sands, as we did not wish to leave the bones of the "Happy Return," with her valuable cargo, upon them.

From the Foreland we took a straight course across the Thames estuary, for what we thought was Walton Naze, but as we had no compass, and were quite out of sight of land, we made a slight error, and about dusk found ourselves close in with the shore. Not knowing where we were, as a fog from the land had come bowling along over the calm sea, we entered a pretty little bay, and dropped anchor for the night.

While we were preparing supper and wondering where we had got to, as there was not a house, church, or other landmark in sight, we felt a bump against our quarter, and immediately after a head appeared above our side, with a "Good evening, mates; I thought as how you might want summat from the town, so I jest put off to ye, seeing ye were strangers like."

"Very good of you indeed, my man. Make fast and come aboard."

Our visitor did not want much inviting, for he rolled in over the side, and squatted down on a locker, as if he had known us all his life. He was a little round-bodied, big-fisted, ruddy man, of about sixty; a thorough water-dog, who, when his tongue was loosened spun yarns and sang us songs till near midnight. He was about the merriest little man I ever met. He had served twenty years in the navy, and was an old wooden frigate man, full to the brim with anecdotes. I thought at the time that it would be worth while for some enterprising editor to send out an expedition to capture him and make him spin yarns to fill up an otherwise uninteresting column of some weekly paper. If I had the space at my command I would recapitulate some of his stories here, but I have not. If I had, my readers would have to take such frequent pinches of salt that they would have a most tantalizing drought upon them, one which would be most difficult to quench.

We obtained information as to our whereabouts, and found that we were anchored in a little bay in the estuary of the Colne, about a mile from the town of Brightlingsea.

On the 7th the sun rose in great splendour, reminding one of the verse:

"The night is past, and morning, like a queen Deck'd in her glittering jewels, stately treads, With her own beauty flushing fair the scene, The while o'er all her robe of light she spreads."

At six a.m. we were again under weigh (after a good breakfast), and close in with the land, which we hugged right away to Yarmouth, as it was our nearest course.

Speaking of breakfast reminds me of eating, and eating of diet, and diet of health; and this again of my diet on Jethou. Two years ago I used to laugh at vegetarians and call them "pap-eaters," "milk-and-water men," and other pretty names; but while I was in Jethou I had cause to think there was not only something in their theory but much.

When the weather was too rough for me to fish, I have often lived for a week or ten days on vegetarian diet, for although I had tinned meat I got tired of it in warm weather, and only ate it occasionally when the days were cold. The pig I killed was more than three-parts thrown away, as I did not properly salt it; so my pork store did not last long.

I used frequently to cut several slices of bread and stroll about the garden and eat my breakfast direct from the bushes, while sometimes I would cook a fish and eat, finishing up with three or four apples or tomatoes with biscuits. Dinner would perhaps consist of a saucepan of potatoes with a fish of some kind, then a rice pudding, or something equally simple, and some cooked fruit eaten with it. I used invariably to stroll through the garden daily and pluck a little of whatever fruit was ripe. I had no meal which corresponded to a tea, but after work took supper, which usually consisted of a scrap of meat or fish, bread and jam, biscuits and fruit. Oatmeal porridge, with fruit and fish, formed my breakfast throughout the winter. It must be remembered that I had a splendid assortment of fruit, and as I ate it freshly gathered I had the full benefit of its medicinal worth, for I had not a day's real sickness while on the island. Excepting the ten days I was laid by with my fall I did not have a single day's real illness. I had raspberries, currants—black, red, and white—tomatoes, apples, pears, walnuts, mulberries, gooseberries, etc., beside wild blackberries; also several vegetables, such as onions, carrots, lettuces, cauliflowers, peas, beans, potatoes, beet, and others.

When I landed on the island I weighed twelve stone six pounds. When I was weighed at Dover, on my voyage home, I drew the beam at thirteen stone eight pounds; so I was not starved. I was as tough as whit-leather, and as strong as a horse, as we say in Norfolk. With this experience, therefore, I must certainly affirm that a diet of farinaceous food, fruit, vegetables, and fish, will not only give a man good health, but a clear brain, a strong body to perform heavy work, and staying power whenever anything unusual has to be endured or undertaken. More than this, no man can wish for; and even if he is maintained from his youth up on mutton cutlets, or choice rump steaks, he cannot be more than healthy, strong, and happy.

Englishmen having for centuries been a meat-eating nation, are naturally reluctant to give up a habit that is almost part and parcel of their nature; but probably if less meat were eaten and more fruit consumed, especially in the warm weather, doctors would be less numerous, and the hospitals be crying out less frequently for increased funds to provide a greater number of beds.

But where are we? Oh, yes, of course, they were Dovercourt lighthouses we have just passed, which seemed to me like two more mile-stones on my voyage home.

The "Happy Return" behaved handsomely, and our cabin was quite dry all the voyage, thanks, perhaps to an extra washboard strake we ran round the bows before starting.

We hoped on the 7th, by evening, to reach Yarmouth, but were doomed to disappointment, as upon night closing in, we were only off Kessingland, a mile or two south of Lowestoft. As we did not want to enter the Bure before daylight, I decided to run into Lowestoft Harbour for the night, which we did, and had a good night's rest. If I had not been so eager to get home I should have passed under the bridge into Lake Lothing, and so through Oulton Broad into the Waveney on my way, but now I was as eager as a schoolboy, and could not bear the loss of even an hour.

On the 8th we slipped out of harbour at dawn, which was about five o'clock, and by seven a.m. crossed Yarmouth Bar, at which my heart thumped so much that I looked round to see if Alec noticed it; probably if he heard it he took it for the bump of the paddles on the water, as a tug passed us towing a couple of fishing boats into the offing.

At breakfast time, eight o'clock, we moored in the mouth of the Bure, just alongside the quay by the ancient North Gate, which has looked down upon the muddy old river for the past five centuries, its head held high in the air, as if wishing to avoid the assortment of smells which accompany the floating garbage sailing slowly towards the sea.

How impatient I was for the tide to run up and bear me home to Barton, about twenty miles from our present moorings, and at last it did turn. To give it time to gain strength we waited a full hour, then, spreading our joyous sails, away we sped. I might say we tried to rival the express rate, but our actual progress was very parliamentary. We drew only three feet of water, but with a slack tide under us we touched ground several times between North Gate and the One-mile-house, so had to be very careful. From thence onward we had deep water and progressed faster.

It was nearly two o'clock as we lowered sail to pass Acle Bridge, and only about half our journey completed. Stepping the masts, hoisting sail, and having a glass of good Norfolk ale at the little inn alongside the bridge occupied half an hour, but now the river was deeper and the wind fresher, we went bowling along capitally, till taking the turn before reaching St. Benet's Abbey, where we lost the favour of the wind. The flat miles of marsh land looked strange to me after hilly, toilsome Jethou. But now I was nearing home, and knew every tree and fence, every break in the river wall, and every house we passed, and loved them all; greeting them as familiar friends as we glided silently by them.

St. Benet's Abbey passed we turn into the river Ant, and again travel along with a fair wind till bothering old Ludham Bridge bars our progress; so we have again to "down masts" to pass under the single gothic arch, which has been the ultima Thule to many a large wherry. Up sail once more, and on we glide up the tortuous narrow stream, till passing quiet, quaint, little Irstead Church, with its two or three attendant cottages, we at last enter Barton Broad.[7] Now my excitement gives way to another feeling, that of suspense and fear as to how I shall find the old folks at home. Are they well? Who can tell what may have taken place during the past six months since my father wrote me, "All's well." I feel a sudden chill as I think of her from whom I have been absent for over eighteen months, and reproach myself for not having communicated to her in some way or other. Is she well, and is she still mine? Then my dear old mother, what of her? With these thoughts crowding through my brain I feel as if I could leap out of the boat and swim the remaining half mile, so slowly does she go through the shallow water.

S-s-s-ssh, bump! and we come to a sudden stop, for my reverie has caused me to neglect my helm, and there we are, fast on a submerged muddy reed bed.

All this inland navigation is new to Alec, and he has been delighted to see how I have handled the craft so far, but I think this contretemps rather shakes his faith in my knowledge, till I explain to him the cause of my neglect.

A few hearty pushes astern and we are off again, and as the sun begins to cast its long red rays across the tranquil Broad, with its reedy margin and water-lily nooks, the "Happy Return" glides alongside our little lawn. Joy! I am home again! The wanderer has returned, and the erstwhile Crusoe has once more, like Rob Roy Macgregor, "his foot upon his native heath."



FOOTNOTE:

7: See Appendix, page 277, "Norfolk Broads and Rivers."



CHAPTER XX.

I SURPRISE THE OLD FOLKS AT HOME—ALL WELL—IS PRISCILLA FALSE—WE MEET—THE MISSING LETTERS—A SNAKE IN THE GRASS—DREAMS OF VENGEANCE.

As I stepped upon the lawn no one was in sight, so treading lightly I walked up to the house, and looked quietly in at the window, peeping cautiously so as not to be seen. To my intense relief the picture I saw within quite assured me that all was well. There sat my jolly old dad and my dear mother, cosily taking their tea, quite unsuspecting who would shortly join them in a cup. They looked very happy; so did a couple of dogs gambolling on the hearthrug, while our old cat sat on a rush hassock close by, looking dreamily at them through her half-closed eyes, when they threatened to knock her off her perch in their play.

I quietly glided in at the side door, and gently opening the parlour door stood in the room before my parents. They both looked round as I made a slight sound; in a moment the quietude was broken. My mother half choked herself with the tea she was drinking, letting fall both cup and saucer on the dogs in her amazement, who scampered away, yelping at their sudden hot bath.

"Mercy me! my boy!" and she fell sobbing in my arms, or rather on my left arm, for my father had taken possession of my right hand with,

"Hang it all, Harry, do you mean to kill us all with fright? Why, my dear boy, I don't know what to say, I feel so glad to see you. However did you get home?" etc., etc.

It was some minutes before their nerves were restored, and I had time to get a few words in edgeways between their greetings. They wanted me to answer a hundred questions, without even pausing to give me a chance to speak; but presently having satisfied them as to the chief points, I thought it high time to fetch in my companion, whom I introduced as "Mr. 'Monday' Ducas, Skipper of the 'Happy Return.'" They quickly made him welcome, taking him to be the Captain of the vessel I had come over in, but remarked aside, that both he and I would look better for a wash and a shave, while possibly a few inches off our hair would make us a little more in accord with the usual mode of dressing hair in these parts. Truly on peeping at ourselves in the glass we did look a couple of wild men or North American trappers.

A tea was then prepared for us to which we did ample justice, but everything seemed so strange. We had not been used to chairs, carpets, window blinds, mutton chops, or even butter, but they soon came back to us as old friends, who had long been absent but not forgotten.

We had a couple of bedrooms assigned to us, also a spare room, into which, on the morrow, I meant to convey our whole cargo; but at present I had neither mentioned our craft or its contents. These things I reserved as a surprise for my dad in the morning.

After we had tidied ourselves I ventured to ask about Priscilla, upon which my father beckoned me to another room, which greatly upset me. Surely nothing was wrong with her; was she ill?

My father noticed my agitation as I asked, "Father, is anything amiss with her? Don't tell me she is ill!"

"No, no, my boy, calm yourself, she is well enough, but——"

"Oh, go on, father, pray do! I can bear whatever you have to say about her except that she has been untrue to me. If she has, I will find the man who has stolen her affection, and——"

"Peace! peace, my son! and listen to me quietly. I believe she is as true a girl as ever lived; but why did you not answer her letters? Twice she wrote to you, but not a line did she receive in reply."

"Letters! I know nothing of any letters from her; all I have received was the solitary letter from you. But tell me what has happened? Why do you look so grave? Tell me, father, and end my suspense."

"Well, as near as I can tell you, Harry, it is this. When you landed on the island it was to be for twelve months only, but at the end of that time I wrote to you stating that young Johnson would wager one hundred pounds that you would be so sick of your exile, that you would not stay another six months on the island upon any consideration. I wrote you, and you accepted the wager, and I find that during the past six months he has been paying his addresses to Priscilla, who——"

"What!" I broke in wildly, "trying to alienate the affections of my betrothed, while he dangled a paltry one hundred pounds before my eyes so as to keep the coast clear, while he laid siege to my love. Let me catch sight of the villain, and he shall rue the day he trespassed on my rights. But what does Priscilla say to his protestations of love; surely she does not give him countenance?"

"My boy, you are too hasty," said my father, patting me soothingly on the shoulder; "listen patiently and hear all I have to say, then you can draw your own conclusions.

"Priscilla I know has not given him encouragement, but has returned several presents that he has sent her; but what mortifies her so, is that you have not even deigned to send her a line through all her time of temptation, although she has written twice to you. Johnson's uncle has a large estate in Florida, and being an old man, wants him to go out and help him to manage it. Johnson has consented to go West, and only this week made an offer of marriage to Priscilla asking her to accompany him to Florida as his wife."

"Yes, father, go on."

"Well, I have not much more to say," he resumed; "I know not Priscilla's answer, but this I do know, that if your love for her has changed, she might do worse than accept your rival; but I trust such is not the case."

I could scarcely speak for rage and vexation, to think I had been so befooled by this fellow, and to have given Priscilla cause to think my love for her could possibly change. I would go to her at once. But my father bade me sit down and collect myself, and calmly talk the matter over with him.

"Leave this affair to me, my boy, and join your mother and friend."

I did so, but with an awful feeling of doubt at my heart. In half an hour my father entered the room, and reassured me with a quiet smile and nod, which was of great comfort to me.

Another half hour went by, and then a rustling at the door made me tremble with anticipation and doubt, for something told me it was Priscilla. The handle turned, and as I held out both my hands to greet her, for it was she, she bounded forward with a cry of joy, and fell fainting into my arms.

Here was a denoument. I gently laid her inanimate form on the couch, and was immediately hustled out of the room by the combined force of my mother and our old domestic, Ellen, and not allowed to return for a time, which to my fevered mind seemed an age, but which the clock pronounced to be twenty minutes only.

This time Priscilla came coyly to my arms, and I then knew all was well between us, especially when she turned me round with,

"Dear old Harry! come to the light, you great brown giant, and look me in the face. Ah!" said she, as Alec obligingly held up the lamp that she might get a full view of me, "I can read truth in those bonny brown eyes, but you are a cruel fellow, or why did you not answer my letters? You bad boy!"

"Sit down, Priscilla," and I quietly took her hands in mine, and drew her down beside me on the couch.

"Now, Miss Fortune Teller! what letters do you refer to?"

"Two that I sent you, one in June and the other only five weeks since, at the beginning of August."

"Believe me, Priscilla, I have never received them, and did not know of your writing to me till my father informed me of it, but an hour since. Where did you write them?"

"Here, Harry, in this very room."

"And who posted them, did you do so yourself?"

"No, your father posted the first, and Ellen the other."

"No," interposed my father, "I recollect young Johnson called in directly you left, and seeing the letter in my hand, said he was going up to the village, and would post it for me, so I gave it to him."

Just then Ellen entered with glasses and decanters, and it suddenly struck me to interrogate her on the subject.

"Ellen, do you remember posting a letter to me, about a month ago, that Miss Grant gave you?"

"Yes, sir, very well; at least I went half way to the post, when Mr. Walter Johnson overtook me on his bay horse, and stopped me to ask how Miss Grant was, and seeing the letter in my hand, he offered to drop it in the box for me as he rode by the post office. So as it was such a wet day I let him take it. Did I do wrong?"

"Well, I don't quite know, but never mind, it saved you a drag in the wet, anyhow."

The maid left the room, and then I gave it as my opinion that Walter Johnson had never posted the letters, and that to-morrow I would interview him on the subject.

Alec was like a fish out of water at all this "high-bobaree," as he called it; but we now quieted down and spent a very happy evening together, with one or two neighbours, who having heard of my return, called in to pay their compliments.

That night I tossed and turned about feverishly, as my home-coming experience had been so strange, that I could do nothing but think and dream of it.

Walter Johnson was ever before me, and the more I thought of him and his underhand behaviour, the more I seemed to hate him, till at last I felt in quite a frenzy against him. I vowed to myself that in the morning I would see him, and if I could force him to confess his dastardly behaviour in not posting the letters to me, and in making love covertly to my affianced bride, I would thrash him soundly. My only fear was that I should do him some permanent bodily injury if he sneered at me, or in any way tried to ignore my right to put certain questions to him.

Towards morning my plans of vengeance were arrested by slumber, of which I was greatly in need.



CHAPTER XXI.

THE "HAPPY RETURN" INSPECTED—MORE OF MY FATHER'S GHOST—UNPACKING THE TREASURE—SEEK AN INTERVIEW WITH WALTER JOHNSON—TWO LETTERS.

At eight I arose refreshed and looked out of the window, and saw Alec and my father walking down to the "Happy Return," so I slipped on my clothes and ran down to them.

Father was amazed to think we had made the voyage in such a craft, and said, "All's well that ends well, my lad; but if you had been caught in a squall in the Channel, with a deeply laden boat like this, what do you think would have become of her crew?"

Then I explained how we had hugged first the French coast and then the English, going into port when we wanted; and how we had been favoured with fair winds and fine weather, which just pleased the old fellow. If anyone wanted an attentive listener let him broach the subject of ships and the sea, and he would at once have my dad as a most appreciative hearer. Shipwrecks and disasters at sea on the East Coast are, unfortunately, of only too frequent occurrence, and a large volume might be written of the daring deeds that have been performed in connection with them, which have come under my own observation.

By the way, I promised my readers to say more of the vision of my father, which appeared to me in Jethou. Now that I was home I had the opportunity of telling him of this extraordinary occurrence. He was naturally surprised at what I told him, and could only account for it in one way. But let me briefly tell the reader what really occurred to him.

He had been to Yarmouth as usual to business, and in the evening was driving home when, in rounding a sharp turn, his trap was carelessly run into by another vehicle driven by a lad. My father was thrown out, falling upon the shaft of his own trap on his left side. As he was lying in an insensible condition in the roadway, the horse, in trying to rise, fell upon or kicked him in the thigh, breaking his leg. He was conveyed home, and a doctor sent for, who, in a short time, brought him to his senses. Upon examination it was found that his thigh-bone and a rib on his left side were broken. While preparations were being made to set these bones my father conversed eagerly about the nature of his hurts, asking the doctor if they were likely to prove fatal, etc. The doctor told him "No, not necessarily, but he must keep his mind quiet and not worry." Then he told the doctor about me, as it was for my sake he cared most, and it was at this time, viz., half-past eight p.m., that I saw the vision of my father sitting in my room at Jethou. The mysterious appearance was in some way connected with his will, but how it was all brought about I must leave to the Psychical Society to fathom.[8]

About ten in the morning Miss Grant came, and then I proposed that with father's assistance we should get out the whole of the cargo and store it in the spare room. I would not hear of his offer of a couple of men to help, as I wanted nobody but ourselves to know of what our cargo consisted.

Slowly the various cases, bales, and packages were transported across the greensward and safely housed, the heavy iron chest bringing up the rear. This took the united strength of four of us to carry, and when we had put it in the room, I locked the door and proceeded to show my spoil.

First I exhibited the curiosities which we had dredged up, a few stuffed fish and birds, my sketches, curious stones, shells, and seaweed, etc. These were duly admired. Then I brought out the old weapons, and undid the bundles of garments, but being rather musty the effect upon my onlookers was not great; in fact, my mother gave it as her opinion that they (the costumes) might breed a fever or some foreign disease, and should be buried or burnt. To this I could not consent however till I had had a little more time to look them over and make drawings of them; not that I ever intended setting up as a theatrical costumier, but I have a great love for anything old, which my friends tell me will ultimately become chronic, so that I shall have to be watched when visiting museums and kindred places, for fear of the development of kleptomania.

Expectation ran high as I produced the key of the padlock to unchain the big chest, for we had purchased an old lock at Alderney, from mine host of the inn. The lid was raised, and I produced the three books, but as no one could read them they were put down as evil-smelling things, musty and mysterious.

Next the small golden casket was produced and handed round, amid great exclamations of delight, for I had polished it till it glittered again in the sunlight. The polished gems on the lid and sides found great favour in the sight of mother and Priscilla, who were quite lost in wonder as to where I had obtained it. Presently I opened it, and poured the uncut gems out upon the table, as a sample of Jethou pebbles; but they were not much appreciated, although when held to the light they certainly shewed rich colouring.

"Only fancy walking about on a beach covered with these coloured stones. I should think they look rather pretty when they are wet with sea water and the sun shines on them. But then I suppose when you see them by the ton, day after day, you take no notice of them?"

This was Priscilla's idea, and when I told her that they were not so common as to be walked upon or shovelled up by the ton, but that they were really and truly diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds, in their natural uncut state, she would scarcely believe it. Even my mother expressed her incredulity with the remark, "Go along, boy! I suppose we shall not know a turnip from an apple next?"

As my veracity appeared to be at stake I now produced a little pouch of cut, lustrous gems, which at once brought forth quite a different flight of exclamations and queries.

"The ducks! How lovely! How they glitter! See how the sun makes them look as if they were alight! Are they really real? Where did you get them from? Are they yours?" and a dozen other questions were put to me in as many seconds, but I only laughed and said:

"Now do you believe me?"

The gold dishes, chalices, etc., were also produced, and made a great impression—gold always does.

My good old dad stood by, looking very grave, and gave a very emphatic shake of his head, so I said:

"What do you think of it all?"

Another shake of the head, and then:

"I don't know what to make of it at all, Harry; but if these things are yours, I hope you came by them honestly. Such things are not indigenous to Jethou, you know!"

"Not indigenous to Jethou! Why, Alec will bear me out that they have been indigenous to the island for scores of years, won't you, Alec?"

"It is quite true, Mr. Nilford. These things have belonged to Jethou for a century at least, but I cannot affirm that they are actually the native produce of the island, any more than the contents of these bags."

He thereupon pulled out one of the great leathern bags and placed in my father's hand, who nearly dropped it, as it weighed over a stone.

When the old gentleman saw the huge silver coins, each more than double the size of a five-shilling piece, he seemed spell-bound.

"What are they? Are all the bags full?" he queried.

"Yes, dad; and now if you will all sit down I will tell you the history of my curious cargo."

Then I told them from beginning to end the entire history of Barbe Rouge's hoard, just as it is already known to the reader. I wound up my wonderful recital by calling for pen, ink, and paper, and there and then writing off to M. Oudin, in Paris, giving him a full account of the find, and asking what should be done with the property.

By Priscilla's desire I did not visit the Priory that day, but on the morrow, after lunch, I took my heavy stick and strode up the gravel path and gave a very important rat-a-tat-tat at the great oak door. The servant who answered my summons informed me, much to my disappointment, that both Mr. Johnson and his son had gone to Liverpool the previous day, the former to see the latter off. Something of importance, the servant thought, had caused him to depart two days before the date upon which it was at first intended he should leave Barton. With a glance at my big stick I thought perhaps I had somehow influenced his hegira, and such I afterwards found to be the case.

As I was bidding the servant (who did not know me) "good morning" she asked my name, and upon my mentioning that I was Mr. Nilford's son, asked me to wait while she fetched a letter which had been left in case I should call. Mr. Johnson had also left a letter for Miss Grant. This I said I should have much pleasure in delivering, and took them both.

Arrived home I found Priscilla waiting for me in great anxiety, fearing that if Walter Johnson was at home something serious between us might occur. Probably something would have occurred. She seemed greatly upset, and taking me aside, said she had something to impart to me, which I must promise to forgive her for. I consented.

"Then, Harry, I must confess to having written to Walter Johnson yesterday. No, do not look in that terrible manner, for I did it both for your good and his. I simply informed him that you were home and would call upon him to-day, so that if he wished to avoid a violent scene he had better hasten his departure."

I could say nothing to this, as I felt that what she had done had saved a deal of bother. Then I handed her the letter inscribed with her name. To my surprise she would not open it herself, and no amount of persuasion would cause her to. She wished me to open it and read its contents, that I might see all was fair and straightforward. It merely asked forgiveness for the writer for having behaved in such an ungentlemanly manner, and hoping that as all was fair in love and war, she would think of him as one who, having striven for a great prize, had failed. Although defeated, he hoped she would remember him as one not disgraced, etc., etc.

My letter contained a cheque for a hundred pounds, as payment for a wager lost to me, and wishing me every happiness. I ardently wished I could have been near the writer at that instant, and I fancy he would not only have felt most unhappy, but that he would have spent a mauvais quart d'heure, as our Gallic neighbours say. So much for Johnson, who never troubled us again.



FOOTNOTE:

8: I find, on enquiry, that this Society has some hundreds of well-authenticated accounts of these occult occurrences, and it really seems that we are often sceptical of these phenomena, without taking the trouble to investigate the cases that come under our immediate notice to discover their truthfulness.



CHAPTER XXII.

M. OUDIN ARRIVES—THE WEDDING DAY—DIVISION OF THE SPOIL—ALEC RETURNS TO JETHOU—WEDDING GIFTS—THE END.

Delays being dangerous, it was quickly decided that our wedding should take place on October 15th, my father's birthday. Among the invitations sent out was one to M. Oudin, of Paris, asking him to come and spend a fortnight with us, so that he could kill two birds with one stone, viz., be present at the wedding, and take with him the treasure we had found on his island.

On Michaelmas Day we received an acceptance of the invitation, and on Old Michaelmas Day, which is a time of some note in Norfolk, our visitor arrived.

M. Oudin was greatly pleased with our fresh-water Broads, and as he was fond of angling and shooting he was very interested and happy. We showed him the treasure, of which he made notes in his pocket book, but further he appeared to take little notice of the matter. From his arrival until the wedding day was a period of excitement, and everyone about the place seemed to regard it as a festival; and truly such it was, for every day fun of some kind was afoot, especially in the evening, for then King Misrule held his sway.

M. Oudin spent most of his daylight on the Broad or the adjoining river with Alec, in a small sailing skiff. These two, with rods, gun, and dog ("Begum"), used to bring in quite a good supply of fish and water-fowl, which they captured in the quiet spots a little from the house.

At length the wedding day arrived, and a bright happy day it proved, and everything went "as happy as the wedding bells," and they rang merry peals till quite midnight.

Our whole village only contains about three hundred and fifty persons, so everyone who wished came to a meal spread upon long tables on the lawn, and from noon till midnight, dancing, singing, boating, etc., were in full swing. At ten p.m. a huge bonfire was lighted, which had not died out when our people arose the next day.

Before going to the church, M. Oudin requested an audience of Priscilla, father, mother, Alec, and myself, and a red-letter day it turned out to be for us. Briefly, M. Oudin's harangue was this:

"My dear friend Harry, but for your discovery of the articles here before us (the treasure), both by good luck and your great ingenuity, I should not now find myself the possessor of what must certainly be of considerable value. Now, if you have any special wish as to which of the articles you would like to possess, make your choice now, freely and without stint."

I stepped forward and selected some of the old arms, including the silver pistols, the three books, and four bags of doubloons. Then, turning the jewels out of the casket, I asked that this beautiful piece of workmanship might be mine also.

"Is that all, Harry?" said M. Oudin.

"All, and more, sir, than I have really any claim to."

"Good lad; I admire your moderation. Now, friend Alec, and what would you like to take away with you?"

"Well, sir, as the digging was mighty hard work, perhaps you would not mind my taking a bag of the money, for I think it would be of more service to me than anything else, as I can, by changing it, soon make it into such small dimensions as to fold comfortably within the tuck of my pocket book for future use."

"Very well, my lad, your request shall be granted. And you, my dear girl," turning to Priscilla, "what would you like as a memento of my visit, and as a remembrance of your bridegroom's sojourn on my island?"

Priscilla eyed the lace lovingly, and also the gems, but was puzzled in her mind to know how much of one or the other she might select without fear of encroaching on M. Oudin's generosity. M. Oudin quickly came to the rescue with, "Now, my dear, you and Mrs. Nilford divide the lace into three equal heaps, and I will tell you what we will decide upon."

After a time the three heaps were arranged upon the floor, and M. Oudin informed us that he should ask my father to place his foot upon one of the heaps as he (M. Oudin) stood just outside the door. My dad did so, and M. Oudin cried, "For Madam Nilford." Again my father touched a heap with his foot. This time he cried, "For my own dear self." Then bursting into the room he, with extravagant bows and apologies to Priscilla for leaving her out, wound up by gathering up the remaining heap of lace, and placing it at her feet. Then, taking her by the hand, he led her to the table with:

"Now, my dear child, let me pay a penalty for my omission in not calling out your name. With this sweet little hand, which is in another hour to be claimed by our friend here, grasp as many of these rough-skinned little gems as your hand will hold, and they shall be yours."

She grasped, but could only clutch fourteen or fifteen in her hand.

"Ah!" exclaimed our volatile guest, "you see you are not of a grasping nature. Come, Harry, try your luck at a grasp."

I took a big grab and succeeded in retaining about forty, so that we had between us much more than half the precious stones. But this was not all, for he continued:

"Now, Harry, I will relieve you of the whole of the doubloons, but at the same time I will ask you to put this in your pocket, as a settlement of what you might easily have taken for yourself, had you been anyone but the honest lad you are."

Here he handed me a cheque for a thousand pounds, which I sincerely thanked him for. Then turning to Alec he said:

"Young man, I believe it is your wish to live upon Jethou, and such being the case I shall allow you to retain possession so long as you choose to live there, and in addition to this, in lieu of the bag of doubloons you selected, and which I shall retain, I purpose giving you a sum of fifty pounds per annum, so long as you remain on Jethou."