"This here stuff makes the canoe all hang to the starn, Mas'r Harry. Tell you what, I'll go in that canoe for the present, and get the freight shifted, and then join you again."

I nodded acquiescence, and then turned to the poor miserable creatures whom we seemed to be robbing, and who now stood, dejected of aspect, watching us.

"What shall I give them?" I thought. "A gun—a knife or two? Pish! how absurd! Here—here!" I exclaimed, catching the two nearest savages by the hand and hastily drawing them into the brake, when the others followed. "One apiece for you, my good fellows, and you gain by the exchange."

They could not understand my word; but as I pointed to the animals tethered in the gloom, and then placed the bridle of a mule in each of the four men's hands, their joy seemed unbounded, and, with a nod and a smile, I was turning to depart, eager to continue our flight, when a wild cry from the raft seemed to fix me to the spot.



CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

IN THE DARK.

The cry was repeated twice before I could make a dash through the thick swampy growth towards the bank.

"Quick—quick, Harry! They are here!"

"Mas'r Harry!" cried Tom in a piteous voice.

The next moment I was on the trampled bank a little below where we had landed, to see in a moment that the little raft was being pushed off; for in cat-like silence our enemies had approached us, and I bitterly repented that I had not joined Tom, instead of wasting time over the fishers whose canoes we had taken. I knew that not a moment had been wasted, and that it would have been impossible to have half-made another raft by this time; but the means of safety had been open to me, and, so as to be fair, I had slighted it; while now I was in despair.

Those were terrible moments! As I emerged from the brake there arose a fierce yell; there was a scattered volley, and the flashes gave me a momentary glimpse of the pale face of Lilla upon the raft. Then there was the loud splashing of the water, and the hurrying to and fro of dimly-seen figures—for the darkness was now deepening with that rapidity only known in equatorial regions.

A moment after, I heard the splashing of water, as of some one swimming; and feeling that it was my only chance, I prepared to dash into the muddy current, when there was a crash, a hoarse cry, and a heavy body struck me on the back, driving me down upon my hands and knees, a tight clutch was upon my throat, and I felt that I was a prisoner, when, with a despairing effort for liberty, I threw myself sidewise towards the river, rolled over in the mud, and then my adversary and I were beneath the water.

We rose directly, and I felt that I was free; for, with a guttural cry, my foe loosened his hold and made for the bank, while, blinded and confused, I swam desperately in the direction I thought might have been taken by the raft.

I almost dashed through the water for a few minutes, as I tried to put in force every feint I knew in swimming; while, as I made the current foam around, I could hear the noise of struggling, muttered imprecations, and then a low, panting breathing, and then once more there was silence.

I began to feel that I had made my last effort, and I was nerving myself for another stroke when my hand touched something hard.

"Loose your hold or I fire!" cried a fierce voice, and the barrel of a gun was pressed against my cheek.

"Uncle!" I gasped, in a voice that did not sound like mine, and as I spoke I grasped the cold barrel of the gun.

There was a loud ejaculation, a faint cry, hands were holding mine, I could feel the raft rocking to and fro, as if about to be overturned; and then, as I felt that I was drawn upon it—that I was saved—my senses reeled, and my mind became dark as the sky which hung over the river.

I believe my swoon did not last many minutes. How could it, when my head was being held to my aunt's breast, which heaved with emotion, and hot tears were falling upon my forehead.

"Lilla?" I whispered.

"Harry!" was breathed upon my cheek, as she came forward.

But this was no time for talking, and rallying my strength I rose to my knees.

"I thought I should never have reached you, Uncle," I said.

"I did my best, Harry," he whispered; "but I felt that when those blood-hounds leaped suddenly out from the brake that I must push off."

"But what was that struggle I heard? Did I not hear Garcia's voice?"

"Yes," said my uncle, huskily.

"And where is Tom?"

My uncle was silent.

"Poor Tom?" I said, in an inquiring voice.

"Yes," said my uncle, huskily. "It seemed to me that Garcia and another reached the canoe Tom was in—the gold canoe, Harry—and that then there was a desperate fight, which lasted some minutes. I had seized the paddle, and tried to make for where the struggle seemed to be going on; but first there was a faint, gurgling cry, and then utter silence; and though I softly paddled here and there I could find nothing. Harry, that canoe was heavily laden—the gold was a dead weight—"

"And it took down with it what was worth ten thousand times more than the vile yellow trash," I cried bitterly—"as true a heart as ever beat. Oh, Uncle—Uncle! I have murdered as noble a man as ever breathed, and as faithful a friend. Oh, Tom—Tom!" I groaned.

I could say no more; but out there that night on the breast of the black, swift stream, with not a sound now but the sobs of the women to break the terrible silence, I—a woman myself now in heart—bent down to cover my face with my hands and cry like a child.

At last I grew more calm, for there was work to be done. I found that we had floated on to a kind of mud bank, and were aground, and I had to help my uncle to get the raft off, which we managed by drawing the canoe up alongside, and then getting in and paddling hard, with the effect that the raft at last floated off, and we retained our places in the canoe guiding the raft down the swiftly flowing stream.

Morning at last, to bring no brightness to my heart.

We paddled on, the little raft, buoyant as possible, following swiftly in our wake.

"Harry," said my uncle, almost sternly, "I have thought it over during the darkness of the night, and I cannot feel that we have been wanting in any way. Poor lad! it was his fate."

"Uncle," I cried, throwing down my paddle, "I can bear this no longer. I must go back!"

"Harry," cried my uncle, "you shall not act in that mad fashion. You have escaped with life, and now you would throw it away."

"Is it not mine to cast away if I like?" I said bitterly.

"No," he said in a low tone, as he bent forward and whispered something in my ear.

"Say no more, Uncle—pray say no more," I groaned. "Indeed, I believe that I am half mad. I would almost sooner have died myself than that this should have happened. How can I ever face those at home?"

"Harry, my lad," said my uncle, "take up your paddle, and use it. You are thinking of the future—duty says that you must think now of the present. We have two lives to save; and, until we have them in one of the settled towns, our work is not done."

I took up my paddle in silence, and plunged the blade in the stream, and we went on, swiftly and silently, along reach after reach of the river.

Many hours passed without an alarm, and then, just as we were passing into another and a wider river, there came from the jungly edge of the left bank a puff of smoke, and a bullet struck the canoe.

"To the right," whispered my uncle softly; "we shall soon be out of that."

The paddles being swiftly plied, we made for the opposite bank, striving hard to place those we had with us out of reach of harm. But with bullets flying after us our efforts seemed very slow, and the raft was struck twice, and the water splashed over us several times, before I felt a sharp blow on my shoulder—one which half numbed me—while a bullet fell down into the bottom of the canoe.

"Spent shot, Harry," said my uncle, striking on alternate sides with his paddle, for I was helpless for the next quarter of an hour. "There will be no wound, only a little pain."

The skin-raft held together well—light and buoyant—so that our progress down stream was swift, but apparently endless, day after day, till our provisions were quite exhausted, and our guns had to be called into requisition to supply us with food.

We were suffering too much to appreciate the wonders of the region through which we were passing; but I have since then often recalled it here at home in the quiet safety of my chair by my fireside, wondering often too how it was that we managed ever to get down to a civilised town in safety.

There was, of course, always the consciousness of knowing that, if we kept afloat, sooner or later we must reach the sea; but what an interminable way it was! At one time we were slowly gliding down a wide river whose banks were not only covered to the water's edge with the dense growth of the primeval forest, but the huge branches of the great trees spread far over the muddy flood. These trees were woven together, as it were, by the huge cable-like lianas which ran from tree to tree. From others hung the draperies of Spanish moss, while others were clothed with flowers from the water's edge to the very summits, whose sweet blooms filled the air with their spicy odours. This wondrous wall of verdure rose to a great height; and when the current sometimes swept us near what was really a shoreless shore great herons would sometimes take flight, or a troop of monkeys rush chattering up amongst the leafy branches, going along hand over hand with the most astonishing velocity, or making bounds that I would think must end in their falling headlong into the river. But no, they never seemed to miss the branch that was their aim, and this, too, when often enough one of these agile little creatures would be a mother with a couple of tiny young ones clinging so tightly to her neck that the three bodies seemed to be only one.

Curious little creatures these monkeys were, but as a rule exceedingly shy. Sometimes on a hot mid-day I would be seated listlessly, paddle in hand, dipping it now and then to avoid some mass of tangled driftwood, and then watching the great wall of verdure, I would see the leaves shake a little and then all would be still; but if I watched attentively as we glided by, it was a great chance if I did not see some little, dark, hairy face gazing intently down at me with the sharp, eager eyes scanning my every movement, and if I raised a hand the little face was gone like magic, a rustling leaf or waving strand of some convolvulus-like plant being all that was left to show where the little creature had been.

At other times, instead of the winding river with its walls of verdure, we passed into what seemed to be some vast island-studded lake, some being patches of considerable extent, others mere islets of a dozen yards across, but all covered with trees and tangled with undergrowth. Landing on any of these was quite impossible unless through one of the verdant tunnels in which now and then there would be a swirl of the water that formed their bottom, showing where some huge reptile had dived at the sight of our boat and raft; while at other times a great snout, with the two eminences above its eyes, would be thrust out of the water and then slowly subside, to be seen no more.

At these times the current swept us through winding channels in and out among the islands, and if I could have felt in better spirits I should have found endless pleasure in investigating the various beauties of the vegetable world: the great trumpet-shaped flowers that hung from some of the vines, with endless little flitting and poising gems of humming-birds feeding upon the nectar within the blossoms. Then squirrels could be seen running from branch to branch, at times boldly in sight, at others timid as the other occupants of the tree, the palm-cats, that were almost as active.

Once I caught sight of the spots of a jaguar as the agile beast crept along a branch in its hunt for food, the object of its aim being a group of little chattering and squealing monkeys which were feasting on the berries of a leafy tree.

Lilla shuddered on one occasion as I pointed out the long, twiny body of a large boa which was sluggishly making its way through the dense foliage of an india-rubber tree, apparently to get in a good position where it could secure itself in ambush, ready for striking at any bird that might come within its reach.

As it happened the current drove us right in close to the tree and beneath some of its overhanging branches, with the result that the creature ceased its slow gliding movement through the dense leafage, and raised its head and four or five feet of its neck, swaying it slowly to and fro as if hesitating whether or no to make a dart at us.

It was by no means a pleasant moment, and I felt for the time something of the sensation that I had so often read of as suffered by people who have been fascinated by snakes. I had a gun lying close by me, but I made no movement to reach it; and though I had a paddle in my hand I believe that, if the creature had lowered its head, I should not have struck at it. In short, I could do nothing but gaze at that waving, swaying head, with the glistening eyes, and the beautiful yellow and brown tortoiseshell-like markings of the neck and body.

Then the stream swept us slowly away, and we were beyond the reptile's reach.

Taking; the recollection of these wild creatures of the South American forests, though, altogether, there was not so much cause for fear. As a rule every noxious beast seemed to aim at but one thing, and that was to escape from man. Even the great alligators, unless they could find him at a disadvantage in their native element, would rush off through the mud and undergrowth to plunge into the water and seek safety right at the bottom of the river. The jaguars were timid in the extreme; and though they would have fought perhaps if driven to bay, their one idea seemed to be to seek safety in flight. It was the same with the poisonous serpents, the most dangerous being a kind of miniature rattlesnake which was too sluggish and indifferent to get out of the traveller's way, and many a poor fellow suffered from their deadly bite.

In fact the most dangerous and troublesome creatures we had to encounter on our journey down the river, excepting man, were the mosquitoes—which swarmed all along the river borders and pestered us with their bites— and an exceedingly small fish that seemed to be in myriads in parts of the stream, and to make up in absolute ferocity for their want of size. This savageness of nature was of course but their natural instinctive desire for food, but it was dangerous in the extreme, as I knew later on. Our experience was in this wise:—

It was one lovely afternoon when we were floating dreamily along between two of the most beautiful walls of verdure that we had seen. Many of the trees were gorgeous with blossoms, the consequence being that bright-winged beetles, painted butterflies, and humming-birds abounded.

My uncle was seated half asleep with the heat, and his gun across his knees, waiting for an opportunity to shoot some large bird that would be good for food; I was dipping in my paddle from time to time so as to keep the canoe's head straight and away from the awkward snags that projected from the river here and there—the remains of trees that had been washed out of the bank by some flood—and I was thinking despondently about the loss of poor Tom.

Then my thoughts reverted to home and those I had to meet there, with our accounts of how it was that poor Tom had met his death.

"All due to my miserable ambition," I said to myself; "all owing to my wretched thirst for gold. And what has it all come to?" I said bitterly. "I had far better have settled down to honest, straightforward labour. I should have been better off."

I gave the paddle a few dips here, and noted that the water was much purer and clearer than it had seemed yet. We were very close in to the shore, but we had floated down so far that we had ceased to fear the Indians, believing as we did that they were now far behind.

Then I began to think once more of how much better off I should have been if I had settled down to work on my uncle's plantation.

Not much, I was obliged to own, for my settling down would not have saved me from quarrelling with Garcia, neither would it have cleared my uncle from the incumbrance upon his home.

"Perhaps things are best as they are," I said; and then I looked back to where Lilla was thoughtfully gazing down into the river from where she reclined upon the raft, and letting one of her hands hang down in the water, which she played with and splashed from time to time.

I was just going to warn her not to do so, for I remembered having read or heard tell that alligators would sometimes make a snap at a hand dragging in the water like that, when she uttered a sharp cry, snatching her hand away; and as she did so I saw a little flash, as if a tiny, silvery fish, dropped back into the water.

"What is it?" I said.

"Something bit me—a little fish," she said. "It has nipped a morsel out of my finger."

She held up her hand as she spoke before wrapping a scrap of linen round it, and I could see that it was bleeding freely.

"Surely it could not have been that tiny fish," I said, thrusting one hand into the water and snatching it back again, for as it passed beneath the surface it was as if it had been pinched in half a dozen places at once; and when I thrust it in again I could see that the water was alive with little fish apparently about a couple of inches long, and instantaneously they made a rush at my hand, fastening upon it everywhere, so that it needed a sharp shake to throw them off; and when I drew it out, hardened and tough as it was with my late rough work, it was bleeding in a dozen places.

"Why, the little wretches!" I exclaimed; and by way of experiment I held a piece of leather over the side, to find that it was attacked furiously; while even later on, when I had been fishing and had caught a small kind of mud-carp, I hauled it behind the canoe, in a few minutes there was nothing left but the head—the little ravenous creatures having literally devoured it all but the stronger bones.

I remember thinking how unpleasant it would be to bathe there, and often and often afterwards we found that it would be absolutely impossible to dip our hands beneath the water unless we wished to withdraw them smarting and covered with blood.

What more these little creatures could effect we had yet to learn, but we owned that they were as powerful in the water as the fiercer kind of ants on land, where they were virulent enough in places to master even the larger kinds of snakes if they could find them in a semi-torpid state after a meal—biting with such virulence and in such myriads that the most powerful creatures at last succumbed.

At last, as the days glided on, we became more and more silent. Very little was said, and only once did my uncle talk to me quietly about our future, saying that we must get to one of the settlements on the Orinoco, low down near its mouth, and then see what could be done.

A deep, settled melancholy seemed to have affected us all; but the sight, after many days, of a small trading-boat seemed to inspire us with hopefulness; and having, in exchange for a gun, obtained a fair quantity of provisions, we continued our journey with lightened spirits.

In spite, though, of seeing now and then a trading-boat, we got at last into a very dull and dreamy state; while, as is usually the case, the weakest, and the one from whom you might expect the least, proved to have the stoutest heart. I allude, of course, to Lilla, who always tried to cheer us on.

But there was a change coming—one which we little expected—just as, after what seemed to be an endless journey, we came in sight of a town which afterwards proved to be Angostura.



CHAPTER FORTY NINE.

HOW TOM SAVED THE TREASURE.

It was the afternoon of a glorious day, and we were floating along in the broiling heat, now and then giving a dip with the paddles, so as to direct the canoe more towards the bank, where we could see houses. There was a boat here and a boat there, moored in the current; and now and then we passed a canoe, while others seemed to be going in the same direction as ourselves.

"Harry, look there!" cried my uncle.

I looked in the direction pointed-out ahead, shading my eyes with my hand, when I dropped my paddle, as I rose up, trembling, in the boat; for just at that moment, from a canoe being paddled towards us, there came a faint but unmistakable English cheer—one to which I could not respond for the choking feelings in my throat.

I rubbed my eyes, fancying that I must have been deceived, as the canoe came nearer and nearer, but still slowly, till it grated against ours, and my hands were held fast by those of honest old Tom, who was laughing, crying, and talking all in a breath.

"And I've been thinking I was left behind, Mas'r Harry, and working away to catch you; while all the time I've been paddling away."

"Tom!—Tom!" I cried huskily, "we thought you dead!"

"But I ain't—not a bit of it, Mas'r Harry. I'm as live as ever. But ain't you going to ask arter anything else?"

"Tom, you're alive," I said, in the thankfulness of my heart, "and that is enough."

"No, 'tain't, Mas'r Harry," he whispered rather faintly; for now I saw that he looked pale and exhausted. "No, 'tain't enough; for I've got all the stuff in the bottom here, just as we packed it in. Ain't you going to say 'hooray!' for that, Mas'r Harry?" he cried, in rather disappointed tones.

"Tom," I said, "life's worth a deal more than gold." And then I turned from him, for I could say no more.

We pushed in now to the landing-place, with a feeling of awakened confidence, given—though I did not think of it then—by the knowledge of our wealth; and leaving Tom in charge of the canoes, we sought the first shelter we could obtain, and leaving there my uncle to watch over the safety of the women, I set about making inquiries, and was exceedingly fortunate in obtaining possession of a house that was falling to ruin, having been lying deserted since quitted by an English merchant a couple of years before. A few inquiries, too, led us to the discovery that there was an English vice-consul resident, to whom I told so much of our story as was safe, mentioning the attack upon my uncle, and speaking of myself as having merely been upon an exploring visit.

The result was a number of pleasant little attentions, the consul sending up his servants to assist in making the house habitable, and sending to buy for us such articles of furniture as would be necessary for our immediate wants.

I took the first opportunity of impressing upon all present secrecy respecting the treasure, for I could not tell in what light our possession of it might be looked upon; and then I hurried down to the canoes to Tom with refreshments, of which he eagerly partook, as he said at intervals:

"I believe I should have been starved out, Mas'r Harry, if there hadn't been some of the eatables stuffed in my canoe by mistake; for I'd got nothing much to swop with the Indians when I did happen to see any ashore."

It was then arranged that he should still stay with the boats till I could return and tell him that I had a safe place, while as Tom lazily stretched himself over the packages in the canoe, sheltering his head with a few great leaves, his appearance excited no attention, and I left him without much anxiety, to return to my uncle.

The discovery that Tom existed had robbed our perils of three parts of their suffering; and now, with feelings of real anxiety respecting the treasure springing up, I hurried back again to the landing-place, to find all well, for the place was too Spanish and lazy for our coming to create much excitement.

"Say, Mas'r Harry," cried Tom, grinning hugely, in spite of his pale face and exhaustion, "I've got you now. I said you was to let me have a pound a week; I must go in for thirty bob after this. Come, now, no shirking. Say yes, or I'm hanged if I don't scuttle the canoe."

It was evident, though, that Tom had undergone a great deal, and was far from able to bear much more; for that evening, after telling the Indian porters that I was a sort of curiosity and stone collector, and getting the treasure carried up safely to the house which I had taken, he suddenly gave a lurch, and would have fallen had I not caught his arm.

"Why, Tom!" I cried anxiously.

"I think, Mas'r Harry," he said softly, "it might be as well if you was to let a doctor look at me—it would be just as well. I've a bullet in me somewhere, and that knife—"

"Bullet—knife, Tom?"

"Yes, Mas'r Harry, that Garcia—but I'll tell you all about it after."

The doctor I hastily summoned looked serious as he examined Tom's hurts; and though, with insular pride, I rather looked down upon Spanish doctors, this gentleman soon proved himself of no mean skill in surgery, and under his care Tom rapidly approached convalescence.

"You see, Mas'r Harry, it was after this fashion," said Tom one evening as I sat by his bedside indulging in a cup of coffee, just when one of the afternoon rains had cooled the earth, and the air that was wafted through the open window was delicious. "You see it was after this fashion—"

"But are you strong enough to talk about it, Tom?" I said anxiously.

"Strong, Mas'r Harry! I could get a toller cask down out of a van. Well, it was like this: I was, as you know, in the gold canoe; and being on my knees, I was leaning over the side expecting you to swim off to me, and at last, as I thought, there you was, when I held out my hands and got hold of one of yours and the barrel of a gun with the other, when a thought struck me—

"'Why, surely Mas'r Harry hadn't his gun with him?'

"But it was no time, I thought, for bothering about trifles, with the night black as ink, and the Indians collected together upon the bank; so I did the best I could to help you, and the next minute there you was in the gold canoe, and not without nearly oversetting it, heavy-laden as she was—when I whispers, 'You'd best take a paddle here, Mas'r Harry,' when I felt two hands at my throat, my head bent back, a knee forced into my chest, and there in that black darkness I lay for a few minutes quite stupid, calling myself all the fools I could think of for helping someone on board that I knew now was not you.

"That was rather ticklish work, being choked as I was, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, with his pale face flushing up, and his eyes brightening with the recollection; "but above all things, I couldn't help feeling then that, if I did get a prick with a knife, I deserved it for being such a donkey. Then I got thinking about Sally Smith, and wishing that we had parted better friends; then about you and Miss Lilla, and about how all the gold would be lost; and then I turned savage, and seemed to see blood, as I made up my mind that, if you didn't have the treasure, the Don shouldn't, for I'd upset the canoe and sink it all first for the crockydiles.

"I don't know what I said, and I don't much recollect what I did, only that fox ever so long there was a reg'lar struggle going on, which made that little canoe rock so that I expected every moment it would be overset; but I s'pose we both meant that it shouldn't: and at last we were lying quite still on the gold, with all round us black and quiet as my lord's vault in the old churchyard at home. Garcia had got tight hold of my hands, and I kept him by that means so that he couldn't use his sting—I mean his knife—you know, Mas'r Harry.

"It seemed to me at last that my best plan was to lie still and wait till he give me a chance; for after one or two struggles I only found that I was nowhere, and ever so much weaker; so I did lie still, waiting for a chance, and wondering that Mas'r Landell didn't come and lend me a hand.

"All at once there came a horrible thought to me, and that was—ah! there were two horrible thoughts—that you had missed the canoe and had gone down, and that the raft had broke away from the gold canoe while we were jerking and rocking about, and that I was left alone here on this big river, with the Don waiting for a chance to send that knife of his through me.

"Now, you needn't go thinking it was because I cared anything about you, Mas'r Harry," continued Tom in a sulky voice, "for it wasn't that: it was only just because I was a weak great booby, and got a wondering what your poor mother would say when I got home, and then, I couldn't help it, if I didn't get crying away like a great girl kep' in at school, for I don't know how long, and the canoe gliding away all the time on the river.

"Getting rid of all that warm water made me less soft; and when Mas'r Garcia got struggling again I give him two or three such wipes on the head as must have wound him up a bit; and then, after nearly having the boat over again, there we lay for hour after hour in the thick darkness, getting stiff as stiff, as we kep' one another from doing mischief. And then at last came the light, with the fog hanging over the river, thick as the old washus at home when Sally Smith took off the copper-lid and got stirring up the clothes. Then the sun came cutting through the mist, chopping it up like golden wires through a cake of soap. There was the green stuff like a hedge on both sides of the river, the parrots a-screaming, the crockydiles crawling on to the mud-banks or floating down, the birds a-fishing, and all looking as bright as could be, while my heart was black as a furnace-hole, Mas'r Harry, and that black-looking Don was close aside me.

"I ain't of a murderous disposition, Mas'r Harry, but I felt very nasty then, in that bright, clear morning, though all the time I was thinking what a nice place this world would be if it wasn't for wild beasts, and men as makes themselves worse; for there was that Don's eye saying as plain as could be:—

"'There ain't room enough in this here canoe for both of us, young man!'

"'Then it's you as must go out of it, Don Spaniard,' says my eyes.

"'No; it's you as must go out of it, you beggarly little soap-boiling Englishman,' says his eyes.

"'It's my Mas'r Harry's gold, and if he's gone to the crockydiles I'll save the treasure for his Miss Lilla and the old folks—so now, then!' says my eyes.

"And all this, you know, was without a word being spoke; when all at once if he didn't make a sort of a jump, and before I knew where we were he was at one end of the canoe and I was at the other.

"Well, you may say that was a good thing. But it wasn't; for as I scrambled up there he was with both guns at his end, and me with nothing but my fisties.

"I saw through his dodge now, but it was too late; and in the next few moments I thought three things:—

"'Shall I sit still like a man and let him shoot me?'

"'Shall I rock the canoe over and let it sink?'

"'Shall I go at him?'

"I hadn't pluck enough to sit still and be shot, Mas'r Harry, for you know what a cur I always was; and I thought it a pity to sink the canoe in case you, if you were alive, or Mas'r Landell, might come back to look for it. So I made up my mind to the last, being bristly, and, with my monkey up, I dashed at him.

"Bang! He got a shot at me, and I felt just as if some one had hit me a blow with a stick hard enough to make me savage; but it didn't stop me a bit, for I reached at him such a crack with my double fist just as he struck his knife into me; and then we were overboard and struggling together in the sunlit water, making it splash up all around.

"'It's all over with you, Tom!' I said to myself; for as we rose to the surface after our plunge he got one arm free, his knife was lifted, and I looked him full in the face as I felt, though I didn't say it—'You cowardly beggar! why can't you fight like a man with your fists?'

"The next moment he must have struck that knife into me again, when I never see such a horrible change in my life as come over his face—from savage joy to fear—for in a flash he let go the knife, shrieked horribly, and half-forced himself out of the water, leaving me free, when, with a terrible fear on me that the crockydiles were at him, I swum for the canoe; and how, I don't know, I managed to get in, with hundreds of tiny little fish leaping and darting at me like a shoal of gudgeons, only they nipped pieces out of my hands and feet, which were bare; and if I hadn't been quick they'd have had me to pieces.

"No sooner was I in the canoe than I turned, for Garcia was shrieking horribly in a way that nearly drove me mad to hear him, as he beat, and splashed, and tore about in the water—now down, now up, now fighting this way, now that—wild with fear and despair, for those tiny fish were at him by the thousand; his face and hands were streaming with blood, and I could see that it would be all over with him directly, when, catching up a paddle, I sent the canoe towards him, to pass close by his hand just as he sank.

"To turn and come back was not many moments' work; but he didn't come up where I expected, and I had to paddle back against stream, but again I missed him, and he went down with a yell, Mas'r Harry, that's been buzzing in my ears ever since—wakes me up of a night, it does, and sends me in a cold perspiration as all the scene comes back again.

"I forgot all about his shooting and knifing me; and, Mas'r Harry, as I hope to get back safe to old England I did all I could to save him when he come up again—silent this time! Did I say him? No, it wasn't him, but a horrible, gashly, bleeding mass of flesh and bone, writhing and twisting as the little fish hung to it and leaped at it by thousands, tearing him really to pieces before he once more sank under the stream, which was all red with blood.

"I paddled here and I paddled there, frantically, but the body didn't come up again; and then, Mas'r Harry, it seemed to me as if a strong pair of hands had taken hold of the canoe and were twisting it round and round, so that the river and the trees on the banks danced before my eyes, making me that giddy that I fell back and lay, I don't know how long.

"When I opened my eyes again, Mas'r Harry, I thought I was dying, for there was a horrible sick feeling on me—one which lasted ever so long— till, remembering all about what had taken place, I felt that I had only been fainting; and, raising myself up, I looked on the river for a few minutes, shuddering the while as I tried to leave off thinking about the horrors in it; but try hard as I would, I couldn't help looking—the place having a sort of way for me as if it was pulling me towards it— and I seemed to see all that going on again, though, perhaps, I'd floated down a good mile since it happened.

"At last I dragged my eyes from the water and they fell upon the packages, and they made me think of you, Mas'r Harry; and, in the hope that you were a long way on ahead, I took up a paddle—thinking, too, at the same time, that if you was alive, as soon as you had got Miss Lilla safe you would come back for me."

I did not speak—I could not just then; for in a flood the recollection of the past came upon me, and taking Tom's hands in mine, for a good ten minutes I sat without speaking.

"Well, Mas'r Harry," continued Tom—but speaking now in a thick, husky voice—"I took up the paddle and then I dropped it again, I was that weak, faint, and in pain; and it seemed to me that before I could do anything else I must wash and bind up a bit.

"One of my hands was terribly crippled from my hurt, but I managed to bind a couple of paddles together; and then, rowing slowly on, I was thinking that my labour had been all in vain unless I could manage still to save the gold, when, happening one day to turn round to look upstream, I saw that, Mas'r Harry, as seemed to give me life, and hope, and strength all in a moment; and you know the rest."



CHAPTER FIFTY.

THE USE OF THE TREASURE.

It is one thing being possessed of a treasure and another knowing what to do with it. Here was I with the fortune, as my uncle called it, of a prince, found, as I had found it, and to which some people may say I had no right, and I often thought so myself. But on the other hand I felt that I could do more good with it than it would do left there in the bed of that stream—so many relics of a superstition—of a pagan idolatry carried on three hundred years ago. The traditions of its being hidden there had of course been handed down, but it had never been seen since it was buried at the time of the conquest, and all who had a right to it had been dead for ages.

So I comforted myself that I was only the one who had brought it to light, and that it was my duty to put it to as good a purpose as possible, and that I meant to do.

Well, here I had the treasure; but the next thing was, should I be able to keep it?

If the Indians could trace me and dared to come across the river all this distance down and into the civilised region, I knew that my life would not be safe, and that they would have the treasure back at any cost.

But then it was not likely that the simple savages would venture after me even if they could find out where I had come.

Then there were the Spaniards about us. If they knew of the wealth we had in the ordinary house of which we had taken possession they would either get it away by legal means, claiming it as belonging to one or the other government, or else make a regular filibustering descent upon us and secure it by violence, even taking our lives as well.

Secrecy, then, seemed to be the only thing possible; and after a good deal of thinking and planning, my uncle, Tom, and I constructed a little furnace in a corner of the house, after boarding up the window and covering it with blankets as well. Here we purposed to melt down the treasure into long ingots, which we hoped to mould in sand—little, long, golden bars being the most convenient shape in which we could carry our gold.

I knew even then that it was a great pity to destroy what were equally valuable as curiosities as for their intrinsic worth as precious metal; but any attempt to dispose of them would have meant confiscation, and such a treasure was not to be introduced to the notice of strangers with impunity.

My uncle joined with me in lamenting the difficulties of the case, and that we should be under the necessity of melting the cups and plates down; but he urged me to do it as soon as possible, and we soon set to work, carrying on our metal fusing in secret by the help of a crucible and a great deal of saltpetre, which soon helped to bring the heat to a pitch where the gold would melt like so much lead, and then by the help of a strong handle the pot was lifted out and its glowing contents poured forth into the moulds.

The ingots we thus cast had to be filed and the rough projections taken off, the dust and scraps being remelted down with the other portion.

It was a tremendous task, though. The plates we managed pretty easily, but the discs had to be cut up first by means of a great hammer and a cold chisel, and the progress we made upon some days was very small.

The cups, too, were very difficult to manage; and Tom and I used to work exceedingly hard, hammering and breaking the gold into small pieces that would go into the melting-pot. Sometimes our fingers were quite sore with the hammering and filing.

Still we kept on making progress, nervous progress, lest people should find out what we were about; and by slow degrees we added ingot to ingot—little, bright, yellow bar after bar—to one heap, and bar after bar of silver to another heap, which were kept buried under a stone in the floor of one of the rooms.

Over and over again we hesitated before breaking up some beautifully-worked cup, though without exception these had been battered and flattened, perhaps three hundred years ago, for the convenience of carriage and hiding from the Spaniards, who had gone west with such a thirst for gold. Several of the best cups were almost flat, the tough, soft metal having evidently been driven in with blows from stones.

We did not get through our task without alarms; for now and then some kindly-disposed person would call, and then we were obliged to hurriedly conceal our work, smothering the fire, and this perhaps when we were at some particular part of our task. But there was no help for it, as we were compelled to work by daylight for fear of the glow of our furnace-fire taking attention if we attempted anything of the kind by night.

That melting down was like a nightmare to me, and over and over again I used to ask myself whether the gold were worth all this trouble. Slave, slave, slave, till our fingers were sore; and now I would be blistering my hands with a small-toothed saw which Tom had bought one day and brought home in triumph for cutting through the gold, and next time toiling away with a great file.

Yes, it seemed as if we were working ourselves to death for this bright yellow metal; and several times over, without being led up to it by me, Tom quite took my view.

"S'pose this here stuff's going to be very useful, Mas'r Harry," he said.

"Useful, Tom?"

"Ay! I mean I hope it's going to be worth all this work and trouble. My word, Mas'r Harry, soap-boiling's nothing to this!"

"Tired, Tom?" I said.

"Tired, Mas'r Harry? Not I! But I tell you what I am, and that's hot."

"Yes, it is hot work, Tom," I said.

"Ay, Mas'r Harry, that's just what it is, 'specially when you gets ladling out the soup and pouring it into the moulds. Fine rich soup, ain't it?" he said with a grin.

"The richest of the rich, Tom."

"Ah! it is, Mas'r Harry; but it is hot work, and no mistake, and it sets me thinking a deal."

"Well, Tom, what of?" I asked, for we were waiting for the melting.

"'Bout setting up soap-boiling out here, Mas'r Harry," he said, grinning.

"Well, what about it, Tom?"

"'Twouldn't do, Mas'r Harry," said Tom. "First of all, the work would be a deal too hot; second of all, the trade wouldn't pay, 'cause the people look as if they never washed. No, Mas'r Harry, I don't think the folks here are fond of soap."

Two months of hard toil did we spend over that melting down. For first of all, there was the preparation of the furnace; and a very hard task that was, there being such difficulty in getting proper materials. Stone seemed to go first into scales, and then into powder. The bricks we obtained cracked; and it was not until my uncle had mixed up some clay in a peculiar manner, and beaten it up into bricks of a big, rough shape, that we managed to get on. These bricks we built up into the furnace, and then slowly dried by leaving in a small fire; and this we increased till it was hot enough to burn the rough bricks, which, as we increased the fire to a furious pitch, seemed to fuse the whole together into a solid mass.

Then we had our hiding-place to dig out; and all this work had to be done in such a secret way that it used to make me think of Baron Trenck in prison, so careful and watchful were we in all we did.

Industry mastered it all though at last; and, weary as Tom must have been of his job, he began to feel at last that the gold was worth working for.

"I usen't to think so at one time, Mas'r Harry," he said; "but since I've been working away here, melting of myself away almost as fast as I melted gold, it's seemed to me as if, when I get home, and Sally Smith knows as I'm a gentleman with a large income of two pound a week, she may be a bit more civil like to me."

"Very likely, Tom," I said smiling.

"That's just what I say, Mas'r Harry—very likely; that is, you know, if there's anything more left of me than the ivory."

"Ivory, Tom?" I said, wondering what he meant.

"Yes, Mas'r Harry—the bones, you know. Don't you see, I mean if I ain't melted all away."

Two months, I say, had it taken before the rich metal was all reduced to neat little bars ready for packing up.

Then we had to discuss the question of the size and material of the cases in which we were to carry home our treasure so as not to excite suspicion.

"We must risk suspicion and inquiry too," said my uncle. "Our way now, Harry, is to get the stuff packed up and go straight away."

"I should do it quite openly," said Lilla quietly, "and if inquiries are made you can say that the chests in which it is packed contain gold. No one can be suspicious then. The people will only think that you are very rich, and be the more respectful."

"You are right, Lilla," said my uncle. "We can show our ingots—I mean your ingots, Harry. No one can prove how you came by them."

The result was that we boldly ordered some little cases to be made of the strongest South American oak, and corded together and bound firmly with hoop-iron; and into these, bedding them neatly with the finest sawdust, we packed the little shining bars.



CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.

OUR TROUBLESOME BURDEN.

By the time we felt that we might very well make a start for home, we found out that though Lilla's advice had seemed so good, it would not do to act upon, and she laughingly owned that she was wrong.

For, feeling the necessity for obtaining a little spare cash in hand, my uncle undertook to dispose of half a dozen of the little bars of gold, and the adventures were such that he came back to me to say that we should have to be very careful.

"It would never do to attempt a passage in a Spanish vessel boldly, my boy. The very sound of the word gold seems to fill the people full of suspicion, and the dealer I went to to-day has been questioning me in all sorts of ways. He thinks, evidently, that I have discovered a rich gold mine somewhere, and is boiling with curiosity to know where."

"And you did not tell him, Uncle," I said laughing.

"No, my boy; but seriously, we must not make these people suspicious. We have to pass through their custom-house places if we go in the regular way, and if we attempt that, depend upon it we shall be stopped, and have to give the fullest of explanations as to where the gold was obtained, before we are allowed to quit the country, even if we are then."

"Depend upon it, Uncle, we should not be allowed to go then. How vexatious!" I ejaculated. "After all this trouble it will be hard if we are stopped now! We will not be," I cried, with a stamp of the foot. "I have succeeded so far, and if I fail it shall not be for want of foresight."

"What do you mean, Harry?" said my uncle, who seemed to be pleased with my energy and determination.

"I mean, Uncle, that if the treasure is lost it shall be through storm and shipwreck, not from the scheming of men. If they know of our rich treasure they will plan to get it away from us. Well, we must scheme harder to save it.

"Here, let's take Tom into consultation," I said after a pause, and Tom was called in. "Here, Tom," I said, "we've got all the gold packed, how are we to get it away?"

"How are you to get it away, Mas'r Harry?" he said, giving his head a rub, not that it itched, but so as to clear his thoughts, I suppose.

"Yes. How are we to get it away?"

"Stick direction cards on, same as we did with the soap boxes at home, and shove it aboard ship."

"To be stopped as something contraband. No, Tom, that won't do. They would want to know what it was."

"Serve them same as we did the Injins," said Tom grinning: "pretend as they are all forsles and stigmy tights, as you called 'em, Mas'r Harry."

"That may do for Indians, but it will never do for people who are civilised. No, Tom, if you cannot give better advice than that, it is of no use."

"That's the best I've got, Mas'r Harry," said Tom. "I never was a good one that way. You tell me what to do and I'll do it. And as for sticking to you—There, Mas'r Landell, sir, haven't I stuck to Mas'r Harry through thick and thin?"

"Most faithfully, Tom."

"Thanky, sir, thanky," cried Tom.

"Yes, yes, Tom, we know all about that," I said. "No one doubts your fidelity, but it is not the question. We want to know what to do about getting the treasure home safely."

"Oh! Ah! Yes, I see," said Tom, as if he had not understood before, and it made me so vexed, what with being hot and nervous and bothered, that I felt as if I should have liked to kick Master Tom.

"I have it," I exclaimed suddenly, and I gave the table a thump.

"He's got it," cried Tom, rubbing his hands. "Mas'r Harry's got it, Mas'r Landell, sir. He's a wunner at hitting out things, he is."

"What is your idea, Harry?"

"It is rather a risky one, sir," I replied; "but it seems to me the only likely one. We must put up with some inconvenience to get our treasure safe. Once we are at a good British port, of course we need not mind, and can do as we please."

"Well," he said, "what do you propose doing?"

"Find out some small vessel going to Jamaica, and arrange with the captain to take us. If we pay him pretty well he will ask no questions about what our luggage is."

"And you might make him think it was forsles and them what-you-may-call-'em tights. He wouldn't be much cleverer than the Injins," said Tom.

"We'll see about that, Tom," I said, and my uncle having approved of my plan, we began at once to see if we could not set it in force.

It sounded very easy, but when I had to put it in practice I found it extremely difficult, and to be hedged in with prickles of the sharpest kind.

We wanted to go to Jamaica, as being a suitable port for our purpose, and an easy one to obtain passage home in a mail steamer; but though I could find small vessels, schooners, and brigs going everywhere else, there did not seem to be one likely to sail for Kingston; and try how I would, it appeared as if the very fact of our wanting to go otherwise than by the regular mail route made our conduct suspicious.

In fact more than one of the skippers seemed to think so, and as a rule they declined to take us, saying that it would get them into trouble, while in one case, where the captain of a schooner eagerly agreed to take us, merely stipulating to be well paid, the vessel was such a cranky, ill-found affair that I shrank from trusting my aunt and Lilla in such a crazy hull.

"There's a chap out in the river yonder going to sail for New York at the end of the week, Mas'r Harry," said Tom one morning. "I got into conversation with him last night when I was smoking my pipe, and in about half a minute he'd asked me what my name was, where I was born, how many teeth I'd got, why I came here, what I was going to do next; and when I told him I wanted to go back to England, he hit me over the back and says: 'Case o' dollars, stranger. I'll take you.' He's coming to see you this morning."

About an hour after I saw a tall, thin, yellow-looking man coming up to the house. He had a narrow smooth face, and two very dark eyes that seemed to have been squeezed close up to his nose—a sharp nose—and a very projecting much-pointed chin. His face was as devoid of hair as a baby's, and taking him altogether, if Tom had not told me he was curious, I should have said at once that he was a man who loved to ask questions.

"Mornin', stranger," he said to both Tom and me, and then, with his queer-looking sharp little eyes searching me all over, he went on: "I guess you're the Englishman who wants to get home with all your tots."

"I am," I said. "May I ask your name?"

"Perks," he said sharply. "'Badiah P. Perks, o' New York. What's your'n?"

I told him.

"Hah, yes. I could see you warn't an A-murray-can. I'll take you if you'll pay."

"Oh, I'll pay a reasonable fare for our party," I replied.

"Party, eh? How many?"

"My uncle, his wife and daughter, and us two," I said.

"And that makes five, stranger. Baggage?"

"Yes," I said, "Let's look."

I hesitated for a moment, and then took him into the room where our neat little chests were packed, one on the top of the other, with a couple of blankets thrown over them.

"Hah!" said the skipper, trying one of the iron-bound cases. "Precious heavy, mister. What's in 'em?"

"Curiosities," I replied.

"Just so," he said, winking one eye. "I said they was to myself soon as I see the iron bands round 'em. Wal, they'll weigh up pretty smart. You'll have to pay for them."

"Of course," I said; "anything reasonable."

"That's square, mister," he said, scanning the whole place eagerly. "Now, what might bring you out here, eh?"

"I came to see my uncle," I replied, annoyed at the fellow's impertinence, but thinking it better to be civil.

"Did you, though, mister? Find him?"

"Yes, I found him right enough."

"Did you, though? Old man all right?"

"Quite right."

"Didn't stop with him, though?"

"No, we are all going home together."

"Wonder at it when you might stay in A-murray-kay. I say, mister, you know, what's in them chesties?"

He accompanied the question with a wink and a grin, and pointed over his shoulder towards the cases.

"I told you," I replied, "curiosities."

"Are they, though? Wonder what the custom chaps would call 'em when they overhauled them, eh?"

I was silent, for it was evident that the fellow suspected me of a desire to evade the regular authorities of the port.

"Come, mister," he said with a grin, evidently divining my thoughts, "out with it, come; you want them chesties smuggled off on the quiet, don't you now? Best take 'Badiah P. Perks into confidence, I guess; makes it smooth for all parties."

"If you like to take our party and luggage to New York, Mr Perks," I said quietly, "I am ready, as my uncle will be ready, to pay you well for the passage. Is it agreed?"

"Luggage, of course, mister; but them there arn't luggage. Curiosities, didn't you say? What's in 'em?"

"That is my affair, Mr Perks."

"'Badiah P. Perks, please mister. Now, then, is it square and confidence, and 'Badiah P. Perks' friends, or isn't it?"

"I shall place every confidence in the captain of our vessel, Mr Perks."

"'Badiah P. Perks, mister."

"Mr Obadiah P. Perks," I said.

"Drop that O, stranger. Don't belong. 'Badiah P. Perks, mister."

"Mr 'Badiah P. Perks," I said.

"And my folks calls me Kyaptin," said the skipper. "Say, it's wonderful how much ignorance there is 'mongst you Englishers. Wal, I won't say I'll take you, stranger, till I've brought one o' these here yellow nigger officers to look over them chesties, and see if there's anything in 'em as is contraband."

I could not help changing colour, and the fellow saw it. He suspected my motives evidently, and with a smile he turned to go, reaching the door slowly and then pausing, as if he expected me to call him back, but as I did not he hesitated.

"Say, mister," he said, "s'pose anny time'll do for me to bring down the yaller nigger chap?"

I was so wroth with the scoundrel and his cool impudence that I took a defiant tone and said shortly:

"Any time you like, Captain Perks."

"'Badiah P. Perks, mister. All right. I won't be long."

"But mind this," I said, "you are doing it for your own amusement, for I shall advise my uncle not to go by your vessel."

"Riled, mister? Jest a little bit, eh? All right. You'll cool down by the time I've got the custom-house chap here, and then we can settle terms."

He went off laughing, and for the moment I felt as if we were in his power.

"All my labour will have been thrown away, Tom," I cried, "and we shall be called upon for explanations that I cannot give."

I called my uncle into the consultation, and we agreed that the best line to take was the defiant one.

"We are under no engagement to this fellow, Harry," said my uncle; "and we need not enter into one, as he would fleece you—perhaps rob you. For, once at sea on the vessel of such a man, he can play tyrant and do as he pleases."

"You are right, uncle; we will not go. But if he returns with one of the Spanish officials, what then?"

"Set him at defiance; and if you are driven to extremities, appeal to the British vice-consul for aid."



CHAPTER FIFTY TWO.

HELP AT A PINCH.

Captain Obadiah P. Perks came back at the end of an hour, when I had pretty well ripened my plans, and, retiring within the house, I left Tom to deal with him.

A tall, dark Spaniard was the captain's companion, and he might have been an official or an impostor in the skipper's pay. It was impossible to judge, though he wore something purporting to be a uniform.

"Wal, mister," the skipper said to Tom, "where's your young boss?"

"Busy," said Tom, blocking the doorway and coolly smoking his pipe.

"Then just you go and tell him that Kyaptin 'Badiah P. Perks is here with a gentleman who'll overhaul that stack o' chesties, and say whether I can take 'em board o' my schooner without getting into trouble."

"Oh! Mas'r Harry won't get you into no trouble, cap'en," said Tom, "nor he won't give you no trouble. He's altered his mind and won't go."

"Oh, no, he haven't," said the skipper. "Just you go and say Kyaptin 'Badiah P. Perks is here and wants to see him tew wunst."

For answer Tom drew a long breath and puffed out a cloud of smoke at the skipper.

"Air yew a-going?" said the latter.

"No," said Tom, "I air not. My young master don't want you, nor your ship, nor anything else. You wouldn't take the job when you could get it, so now it's gone."

The Yankee skipper turned of a warmer yellow, and there was a malignant gleam in his closely-set eyes as he thrust one hand into his pocket and drew it out directly.

"Here, I don't want to quarrel along o' you," he said sharply. "Go and tell him I want him, and he must come."

"Sha'n't," said Tom coolly. "Who are you ordering about? This here ain't aboard ship."

"It would be okkard fur yew, boy, if it weer board ship," snarled the skipper, going close up and thrusting his ugly face almost in Tom's. "Yew just do as I tell yew, my lad, 'fore it's worse for yew. Guess I don't want to quarrel."

"And guess I don't want to quarrel with you," said Tom; "though I allus have felt as if I should like to whack a sailor."

The man's hand went to his pocket again, but in spite of his furious glances Tom did not for a moment quail, giving him back again look for look.

"Guess it 'll be the worse for yew, stranger," said the skipper, "if you don't go and fetch out that theer fellow o' yourn."

"Guess it 'll be the worse for you, skipper, if you get shoving that sharp nose o' yours in my face," said Tom. "You ain't skretched me with it yet, but if you do, ware hawk!"

The man's face was a study. He wanted evidently to seize Tom and thrust him aside, but there was something so solid and muscular about Tom's body, and something so hard and bull-like about Tom's head, that few people would have cared to tackle him; and certainly, seeing how determined he was, the skipper did not feel disposed.

"Here, hi! you Englisher," shouted the fellow, "come out. I want a word with you."

"I say, don't make that row front of our house," said Tom. "There's ladies here; and if you do it again I shall have to do what they does at home with noisy people—move you on."

The skipper made a menacing movement towards Tom, and I was ready to go to his assistance, but Tom did not stir, only clenched his hand slowly in so ominous a manner that the skipper went no farther, but turned and advanced to his companion, before again approaching my faithful companion.

"Now, look ye here, mister," said the skipper. "I don't want to hurt you, so just you either get out o' the way or fetch your boss."

"If you don't get out," said Tom slowly, "I shall have to make you. Mas'r Harry don't want no trade with you at all, so s'pose you be off while your shoes are good."

"I will be off," said the skipper with a snarl, "and bring them here as will open some of your eyes a bit, and them chesties too."

Then saying something in a whisper to his companion they both hurried off, and for the rest of the day, in spite of the aspect I carried before those in the house, I was in no little trepidation.

Late in the afternoon, when we had been expecting a call every moment from some one in authority, and Tom had been waiting ready to run off at the first attack to the British vice-consul, a quiet, firm-looking, sailor-like man came up to where I was standing.

"Are you the Englishman who wants to go with his family to Kingston?"

"Yes," I said, looking at him earnestly, for I was wondering whether it was a trap laid by the Yankee skipper.

"I just heard of it down at the wharf," he said. "I'll take you, only I sail to-night."

I was going to exclaim, "That's just what I want!" but restrained myself, and said quietly, "That's a very short notice."

"Well, 'tis, sir; but I'm all laden, and time's money. If you can be ready I'll take you, and be glad to earn the passage money, and do the best I can to make you and the ladies comfortable, but if you can't I must lose the job."

"We will be ready, then," I said; "only I have these heavy chests to go."

"Oh, they're nothing," said the skipper good-humouredly. "I'll bring the boat up abreast here, and four o' my lads. We'll soon have them in."

We soon settled about terms, which were reasonable enough, and promising to be there with the boat in an hour, the man left.

"Well, Tom, what is it?" I said excitedly. "A trap or honesty?"

"Honesty, Mas'r Harry," he cried sharply. "That chap's straight-forrard enough."

"So I think," I cried, "and we'll risk it. To-morrow we may be stopped."

My aunt and Lilla were almost startled at the suddenness of the proposed departure, and my uncle looked anxious; but they said nothing, only made their final preparations, and soon after dark the fresh skipper came up with half a dozen men.

"I thought I'd bring enough," he said. "Now, my lads, be smart. Chest apiece, they ain't big."

It was all so sudden that my breath was almost taken away; but I had said that I would risk it, and there was nothing else to do but go on. In the darkness, too, it was hard to tell whether our property was all being fairly dealt with, but I watched as keenly as I could, and Tom went down to the boat with the first men, my uncle taking charge of Lilla and my aunt, while I stopped back at the house and sent all the luggage off.

It was pitchy dark now, and matters were carried out with a rapidity that was startling. In fact, in a quarter of an hour everything was on board the heavy boat, the men in their places, my aunt, Lilla, and my uncle in the stern sheets, and Tom and I were about to step in when Lilla exclaimed:

"Oh, Harry! I've left the great cloak in my room!"

I was about to exclaim "Never mind," and, in my excitement to get clear, order the men to push off, but it was Lilla's wish, and without a word I started back to fetch the cloak.

It was the most painful passage I ever had in my life. It was only minutes but it seemed hours, and with my heart beating furiously, I tried to crush down the fancies that kept coming into my head.

"Suppose," I thought, "that man is in the American skipper's pay, and that, now they have possession of my treasure, they should carry it off, and I should never see it more." I knew that I might go back and find the boat gone, pursuit would be vain in the darkness; and so tortured was I as I reached the house we had left, that I turned instead of going in, and stepped back to run down again to the boat.

That bit of indecision saved me, for just at my elbow a voice I recognised said:

"Now then, four o' you just go round to the back and stop whoever comes out. Two watch the windows, and we'll go in. I guess it'll make the Englisher star'."

The Englisher did stare as he tried to gaze through the darkness, and then, feeling satisfied that the new skipper had nothing to do with the American, I stepped softly back, trembling with eagerness and excitement, and made my way down to the boat.

"All right," I said in as composed a manner as I could, and jumping in we were soon after being rowed softly down the river, past great vessel after vessel, all showing their mooring lights, till, wondering the while what sort of ship we were to have for our passage, we came at last alongside a large schooner, and were soon after safe aboard, treasure and all, of what proved to be a very good swift vessel.

In the morning when the sun rose we were going rapidly down towards the mouth of the great river, but it was not until we were well out at sea that I felt safe from pursuit, and told my uncle of our narrow escape.

"But I have not been able to find the great cloak, Harry," said Lilla.

"No," I replied; "it was a question whether I should leave the cloak or myself, so I left the cloak," and then I told her of my adventure in the dark.



CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.

"HUZZA! WE'RE HOMEWARD BOUND."

And now it seemed as if our difficulties were at an end, for the passage to Kingston, Jamaica, was a pleasant one, and we took our berths from there in the mail, which landed us in safety at Southampton, without a soul suspecting the nature of the treasure that we had on board, one which we had gone through so much peril to obtain.

It was a fine evening in July, that, after leaving my uncle and the others at a comfortable London hotel, Tom and I, after a quick run down by rail, found ourselves once more in the streets of the little town which we had left upon our setting off to foreign lands in quest of our fortunes.

How familiar everything seemed and yet how shrunken! Houses that I used to consider large appeared to have grown small, and people that I had been in the habit of considering great and important, somehow looked as if they were of no consequence at all.

"Lor', look ye there, Mas'r Harry, they're practising in the cricket field. What a while it seems since I have handled a bat! Come and give us a few balls, the chaps would be glad enough to see us."

"No, no, Tom," I said hastily, "I want to see the old people."

"Oh, yes, of course, I forgot all about that, Mas'r Harry. I haven't got no one to see."

"Why, what about Sally?" I said.

"Pooh, it's all nonsense! What stuff! How you do talk, Mas'r Harry!" he cried indignantly. "Just as if Sally was anything to me!"

"Come, Tom," I said, "you know you were always very great friends."

"Friends, Mas'r Harry! Why, she were allus giving me spanks in the face. I do wish you wouldn't be so foolish, Mas'r Harry."

"All right, Tom," I said, for he was speaking in quite an ill-used tone. "There, what's that?" I cried, as with beating heart, longing to look into the old home and yet almost afraid, I stopped short at the corner of the lane, and caught Tom by the arm.

"What's that?" cried Tom grinning, as he took a long sniff. "Taller. Say, Mas'r Harry, after missing it all this long time, it don't smell so very bad after all."

"Well, it is not nice, Tom," I said smiling, "but how familiar it all does seem! What days and nights it does recall! Why, Tom, we hardly seem to have been away."

"Oh, but don't we though?" said Tom, pulling down the front of a new waistcoat and pushing his hat a little on one side. "We went away nobodies like, at least I did, Mas'r Harry, and I've come back an independent gentleman. I wonder whether Sally's altered."

I did not make any reply, but walked steadily on till I reached the familiar gates leading into our yard, and through which I had seen the laden van pass so many hundreds of times. There beyond it was the soap-house with its barred window, the tall chimney, and, on looking over, there were the usual litter of old and new boxes, while an unpleasantly scented steam was floating out upon the evening air.

How strange and yet how familiar it all seemed! How old and shabby and forlorn everything looked, and yet how dear! I wanted to creep in and catch my mother in my arms, but something seemed to hold me back, so that I dare not stir.

I walked straight by, with Tom following me slowly, looking across at the opposite side of the road, and whistling softly, and as we walked on I could see into the garden, and my heart gave a throb, for, instead of being neat and well stocked as of old, everything appeared to have been neglected—creepers had run wild, the apple and pear trees were covered with long shoots, and tall thistles and nettles stood in clumps.

My heart seemed to stand still, and I hesitated no longer. My father must be ill, I thought, or the garden in which he took so much pride would never have been allowed to run wild like that.

"Tom," I said, "there's something wrong."

"Lor', no, Mas'r Harry, not there. Nothing's wrong, only that Sally's left, and that's all right, ain't it?"

I did not answer, but, going to the yard gate, pushed it open, and the hinges gave a dismal creak.

"Bit o' soap would not hurt them," said Tom sententiously, and he followed me through the yard.

I peeped in at the old, familiar boiling-house, but though work had lately been in progress there was no one there; so I went on to the back door and was about to enter, but Tom laid his hand on my arm.

"Would you mind my going in first, Mas'r Harry?" he said softly. "I know it ain't right, but I should like to go in just once—first."

I drew back and Tom stepped forward to go in, but as he raised his hand to the latch he dropped it again and turned back to me.

"'Twouldn't be right, sir, for me to go afore you; and don't you think, Mas'r Harry, now that you're a great, rich gentleman just come over from foreign abroad, that it would be more genteel-like to go round to the front and give a big knock afore you went in?"

"Well, let's go round to the front, Tom. Perhaps it isn't right to come round here. We might startle them."

"Wouldn't startle Sally, even if she were here, Mas'r Harry. Nothing never did startle she, though she ain't here now."

The fact was that I felt as nervous and tremulous about going in as poor Tom, and accordingly we went round to the front, and after a moment's hesitation I gave a rap at the door.

No answer.

I rapped again, and then, finding the door unfastened, I pushed against it with trembling hand to find it yield, and, walking straight in, I turned to the right and entered the little parlour.

As I went in some one who had been sitting back asleep in the easy-chair started up and took a great red handkerchief from his face.

As he did this I was advancing with open hands, but only to stop short, for it was not my father.

"Hillo!" said the stranger, a dirty-looking man with an inflamed nose.

"Hallo!" I said; "who are you?"

"Who am I?" said the stranger, staring at me as if I were asking a most absurd question. "Why, persession—that's about what I am. Are you come to pay me out?"

"Pay you out!—possession!" I faltered. "Why, what does it mean?"

"Sold by hockshin without reserve by one of the morkygees," said the man, "soon as the inwintory's took."

"Where are my father and mother?" I said, with my heart sinking at the idea of the distress they must have been in.

"Now, then!" said a sharp voice, and a young woman came to the inner door; "who do you want?"

"Sally!" whispered Tom excitedly.

"Why, Sally!" I exclaimed, "don't you know me again?"

"It isn't Master Harry, is it?" she said wonderingly.

"Yes, Sally," I said. "Why, how you have altered and improved!"

"Get along, Master Harry; it's you that's improved. Who's that big, stoopid-looking young man with you?"

"Oh, I say!" groaned Tom.

"Oh, I see!" she said carelessly, "it's the boy!"

"Ain't she hard on a fellow, Mas'r Harry?" whispered Tom; but I did not reply, for I was questioning Sally.

"What! haven't you heard?" she said.

"No, I've heard nothing," I exclaimed. "What do you mean?"

"'Bout master's having failed, and a set o' wretches,"—here she glanced at the dirty-looking man—"coming and robbing him of his business, and his house, and his furniture, and everything a'most he's got."

"No, no, Sally, I have heard nothing. But are they well?"

"Oh, yes, as well as folks can be as is being robbed by folks who come sitting in all the chairs with hankychers over their heads, and going to sleep all over the place."

"But where are they?" I cried; "upstairs?"

"Upstairs? No," cried Sally. "They're down at the little cottage in Back Lane, where old Mrs Wigley used to live."

"I'll run down at once," I cried. "Come along, Tom!" I did not look back, for I was intent upon my task; and if I had I should have had no satisfaction, for Tom had stayed behind, as he afterwards said, to look after old master's property; but I never believed that tale for several reasons, one being that Tom looked shamefaced and awkward as he said it, and circumstances afterwards tended to show that he had some other reason.

The old cottage named was one that I well remembered, and my spirit seemed to sink lower and lower as I neared the place; for it was terrible to think of those whom I had left, if not in affluence, at least in a comfortable position in life, brought down to so sad and impecunious a state, suffering real poverty, and with the home of so many years now in the broker's hands.

Then I felt a wave of high spirits come over me, as it were, to hurl me down and then lift me and carry me on and on, till I literally set off and ran down turning after turning, till I came to the little whitewashed cottage where my father and mother had their abode.

I half-paused for a moment, and then tapping lightly, raised the latch and entered.

My father was seated at a common uncovered deal table, poring over an old account-book, as if in hopes of finding a way out of his difficulties. My mother, looking very care-worn and grey, was seated by a back window mending some old garments, and now and then stopping to wipe her eyes. At least that is what I presumed, for she was in the act of wiping them as I dashed in.

"Mother! father!" I exclaimed, and the next moment the poor old lady was sobbing in my arms, kissing me again and again, and amidst her sobbing telling my father that she knew how it would be—that it had been foolish of him to despair, for she was certain that her boy would come back and help them as soon as he knew that they were in trouble.

"When did you get the letter, my darling?" she said as she clung closer to me.

"Letter!" I said; "I've had no letter."

My mother looked up at me wonderingly.

"Had no letter, Harry?"

"No, my dear mother; I have not had a line since I have been gone."

My mother loosened her hold of me and turned to my father as he stood looking on.

"You did not write to him," she said.

"Oh, yes, I daresay he did, mother," I cried, "but of late I have been travelling about a great deal."

"Then the letter would have come back, Harry," said my mother. "He did not write."

"No," said my father quietly; "I did not write. What was the use of troubling the poor fellow about our miserable affairs when he was far away?"

"Then you did not come, Harry, because we were in trouble?"

"No, mother," I replied. "I came home because my task was done."

"Your task was done?" said my mother. "I don't understand you. I thought you went to work at your uncle's."

"I was with my uncle, mother," I replied, enjoying the knowledge of the surprise I had in store, and feeling that now, indeed, the treasure I had found was worth having, for what changes it would work! "but he was in trouble too."

"In trouble!" said my father and mother in a breath.

"Yes, he was in the same predicament as you are, and his coffee plantation was going to be sold up."

"What an unhappy family ours is!" said my mother. "Harry—Harry! you might as well have stayed at home."

"If I had stayed at home, mother, would it have spared you this trouble?"

"I—I don't know, my boy. Would it, my dear?" she said, turning to my father.

"No, wife—no," he said; "Harry was quite right to go. He foresaw what was coming, and how useless it was for me to try. The hardest part of it, my lad, is that I can't go out of business an honest man and pay every one his due."

"Don't fret, dear," said my mother; "you've done your best and given up everything. But tell me, Harry," she cried, "what did my poor brother do? Had he no friend to help him?"

"Yes, mother."

"And did he?"

"Yes, mother."

"What! paid his debts?"

"Yes, dear mother."

"God bless him!" said my mother fervently. "I wish I could take him by the hand. And how is your uncle now?"

"He was quite well when I left him to-day, mother."

"Left him!—to-day?" said my mother wonderingly.

"Yes, he is in town. I brought him with me, and he will come down and see you with some one, mother, I want you very much to love."

"You foolish boy!" said my mother. "Ah, Harry—Harry! you are too young to think of that."

"I'm sorry he's coming to see us," said my father sadly. "We are not in condition to see company, wife."

"No," said my mother, sighing as she glanced round. "But don't be down-hearted, dear," she cried more cheerfully; "when things are at their worst they always mend, and I think they have got to their worst now, and have begun to mend, for Harry has come back."

"Yes, mother," I cried, unable to keep back my good news, knowing as I did how welcome it must be to them at such a time. "Yes, mother, I have come back, and brought with me the friend who helped my poor uncle in such a strait, and now he shall help you."

"Ah, but my dear boy, we have no claims upon your uncle's friend."

"The greatest of claims, mother," I cried excitedly, "for he is your own flesh and blood."

"Harry!" cried my father, "what do you mean? Did you help your uncle?"

"Yes, father," I said modestly.

"And paid his debts?"

"Yes, father, and now I'm going to pay yours, or rather you are going to pay them yourself, and be what you called—an honest man."

His eyes lit up, and he looked as if he were about to catch me by the hands, but he stopped short and shook his head.

"No, no, no, my boy, you do not understand these things. I owe nearly five hundred pounds."

"My dear father," I cried, "I'm ready to pay it if you owe nearly five thousand. I went out to make my fortune and I have made it, and I never knew its value thoroughly till I came home to-day. There, come away home and I'll pay out that fellow, and—oh, come, mother—mother, mother!" I cried as I took hold of her hands to raise her up, for she had sunk upon her knees and was embracing my legs. "You must not give way like this, or you will make me behave like a great girl."

"It is because I am so happy," she sobbed, and as I raised her so that she could weep on my shoulder, my father caught me by the hand.

"God bless you, my boy! God bless you!" he cried. "I won't question you now, for like your mother I feel as if this is more than I can bear."

We lost no time as soon as they had grown calmer. For though I had not the money with me sufficient to pay all my father's debts, I had plenty to pay what was needed to get rid of the unpleasant tenant of my old home, and that night I slept happily once more beneath its roof.

I had hard work to satisfy the old people about my right to the large sum of money I had brought back, but I found no difficulty with their creditors, who took the cash without asking any questions, and were very loud in their praises, saying that I was the best of sons, which was all nonsense, for I should have been the worst of sons if I had not done my duty as I did.

The next few months were chiefly spent in getting things into order, and in the midst of my busiest time Tom came to me one day, bringing with him Sally.

"Hallo!" I said, "what does this mean?"

"Oh, nothing at all, Mas'r Harry; only now I'm settled as a gentleman of property I'm going to be married."

"Don't you believe him, Master Harry," said Sally; "it's all his nonsense," and she was scarlet as she spoke.

"Don't you believe her, Mas'r Harry," said Tom grinning; "she promised me she would, and she can't draw back, can she?"

"Certainly not, Tom," I said. "A lady's under her bond just as a gentleman is."

"There! hear that, Sally?" said Tom.

"Yes, I hear," she said, "so I suppose I must;" and Sally spoke in quite a resigned way, keeping her word to Tom within three months, my father saying that Sally had been the most faithful of servants, and had forced upon them all her little savings in the time of their distress.

You may be sure I did not forget this on the day when my father gave her away, and Tom had a nice little dowry with his wife.

It may be thought that, with so great a sum of money—so large a fortune—I must have lived in great splendour during the rest of my life. But it was not so. Certainly I have always since enjoyed the comfort of a pleasant, well-kept, unostentatious home; but the fact is this—it was my fate to marry a woman generous almost to a fault. As you have seen, she began by giving the greatest treasure I found in the New World—herself—to me; and then, upon the strength of our having plenty of money, she was of opinion that its proper purpose was being spent in doing good to others.

My uncle and Mrs Landell were settled in a pleasant little estate of their own; and after a great deal of persuasion my father was induced to take upon himself the position of a country gentleman. One way and another our income became shrunk down to very reasonable proportions; though, after Lilla has done all the good that she can in the course of the year, we have always a little to spare.

My story is ended. And now that grey hairs have made their appearance, bringing with them sounder thought and the ripe judgment of experience, I often go over my adventures again, and chat about them with Tom, and Sally his wife, when I have taken a run over to their prosperous farm; but in spite of all the success that has attended me and mine, I think, have thought, and I hope I shall still think to my last day, that my journey to the New World, my adventures, and all I gained, would have been but so much vanity and emptiness had I not won Lilla, who has shed upon my life a sunshine such as has proved that after all she was the true gold.

THE END.