"I took his advice—it was of course the obvious thing to do—and there, to my amazement, was the boat, unmistakably enough, with her mast stepped, rigging set up, and sails stowed. What was more, after looking intently for several minutes I had the impression that I caught glimpses of one or two people moving about aboard the wreck. We watched all that day, and the next, and the next, every moment expecting to see the boat leave the wreck; and all that time we were trying desperately hard to make a fire and thus create a smoke, so that whoever was aboard the wreck would see it, and come across to ascertain what it meant; but, try as we would, we were unable to manage it. Then one day Dirk went out to look at a trap which he had set in the woods, and upon his return he reported that the boat had left the wreck and was heading along the lagoon in a northerly direction, and that there were two people in her— a man and a boy; so we naturally concluded that it must be you and Billy, and that you had somehow escaped drowning after all."

"Then," said I to Van Ryn, "if you saw us as distinctly as that, why did you not show yourself on the beach, and wave to attract our attention?"

"I did," replied the Dutchman. "D'ye think I'm such a fool as to miss a chance? But you vas not look my vay, not neither of you. Und though I shout and yell und run along the beach you take no notice, but sail on until at last you sails out of sight."

"That is very strange," said I, "for whenever I was cruising in the lagoon I always kept an eye on the shore."

"Then you moost 'ave been lookin' out abeam, or ahead, not astarn, vhere I 'appened to be," declared Van Ryn.

"Possibly," I agreed, for I saw that the man was in an aggressively disputatious humour, and I wanted to have no words with him. "Well, what happened after that? Go on with your yarn, Svorenssen."

"We saw you three or four times after that," resumed Svorenssen, "and once you passed so close that we easily recognised both of you. Unfortunately, we were both up a tree at the time, and were unable to descend, for the reason that there was a savage brute of a wild pig that had driven us up aloft and was waiting below for us to come down again. Of course we shouted our loudest, and as long as there seemed any possibility that you might hear; but it was no good. I suspect it was the roar of the surf on the reef that drowned our voices. But every time we saw you, if you were not going alongside the wreck you were steering north. So at length we came to the conclusion that you had probably rigged up some sort of a shelter in that direction; and we accordingly agreed to work along-shore in a northerly direction, and try to find out where you had bestowed yourselves.

"To you, sailing along easily and comfortably in your boat, I dare say it would seem no very arduous job to work your way along a few miles of open beach; but to us two, circumstanced as we were, in a place swarming with savage brutes that seemed to be for ever lurking on the watch for us; without the means of kindling a fire as a protection; and with only our sheath-knives as weapons; obliged to enter the woods at the peril of our lives to obtain food—and as often as not driven out again without the food; able to sleep only during the day-time—and very often not even then; compelled to seek shelter in trees for hours at a time—ay, and often enough for a whole day—to save our lives, it was simply— well, there are no words strong enough to describe it. Why, there were days—plenty of them—when we did not make so much as a mile of progress; when, from one cause or another, we did not make a fathom, much less a mile. No wonder that we were so long a time working our way round to you. Indeed, now that I look back upon the innumerable difficulties that we had to contend with, my only surprise is that we ever managed to get here at all.

"Then, as an appropriate climax of all our difficulties, the forest one day caught fire—perhaps you saw the blaze?—and almost the whole of the island was swept clean of every green thing. Phew! that was an experience, with a vengeance! If I had not beheld the scene with my own eyes I could never have believed there were so many wild creatures in all the world as we then saw; great, fierce monkeys, bigger than a man; little monkeys in thousands; leopards; wild pigs as savage as lions; deer of all sorts and sizes; and creatures the like of which we had never seen or heard of before—they all came swarming down to the beach to escape the flames. And—a very curious circumstance I thought it— they were all so thoroughly terrified that none of them interfered with the others, or with us, but all stood huddled together by the water's edge, bleating, squealing, roaring, howling—no, I cannot attempt to describe it; it is the kind of thing that has to be seen to be understood.

"Naturally, we all edged away as far as we could from the flames and the flying sparks, and eventually it began to dawn upon us all—beasts as well as men—that the extreme north end of the island might possibly be spared, and we all with one accord set off in that direction. And for a little while—twenty-four hours, or thereabout—we men did very well; the creatures all stood huddled together, trembling and making queer moaning, noises, too terrified to take notice of anybody or anything, and when we needed food all that was necessary was to lay hold of a deer, haul him out of the crowd, and cut his throat—and there was all the food we required.

"But that condition of affairs was of course quite temporary. No sooner had the fire burned itself out than the creatures recovered their courage and turned upon each other like—well, like wild beasts. Dirk and I quickly recognised that the north end of the island was too perilous a place for us. There was therefore nothing for us but to escape from our dangerous neighbours while we could, and this could only be done by bearing away south again, which we did.

"There was no cause for further fear of wild beasts as we pursued our journey southward; there was not a living thing to be seen anywhere ashore; even the birds had all vanished. That condition of affairs was of course all in our favour, so far as it went; but the unfortunate part of it was that the fruit was also destroyed; so that, while we could now rest undisturbed at night, our only food consisted of such raw shell- fish as we could find at the margin of the beach; and we could find no fresh water wherewith to quench our thirst.

"For two days and nights we were in that predicament, our thirst being terrible, and the only relief we could obtain—and it was very partial— was to enter the sea and lie down in it for about ten minutes, allowing the ripples to wash over us, and taking care not to go far enough in to give the sharks a chance to get at us. Then, when we felt sufficiently relieved, we staggered along for a few yards, repeating the process about thirty or forty times a day.

"At length, however, we found a stream of fresh water and camped beside it. But so terrible had been our suffering from thirst that, having at length found fresh water, we could not summon the courage to leave it again.

"One day, however, as we were seeking shell-fish on the beach near the mouth of the stream, Dirk suddenly remarked:—

"'Olaf, my son, just run your eye along the ridge of that hill yonder, and tell me what you see.'

"I did so; and presently saw what had attracted his attention. There was a little patch of green that looked as though it might be trees, while all below it was black, where the fire had been.

"'It certainly looks very like a clump of trees,' said I; 'and where there are trees there will also probably be fruit. Let us take a walk up there and investigate.'

"'And what about leaving this fresh water?' asked Dirk.

"'No need to do that,' said I. 'The stream comes down from that direction, and we can probably follow it for a good part of the way. Surely it is worth while to risk it.'

"So we started, following the course of the stream until we had arrived very near to our destination. And when that was reached we found it to be a nice little patch of forest, rising to the top of the hill and dipping down on the other side of it for a distance of about two miles. And the reason why it had not been burnt with the rest was because it stood on the lee side of a lake big enough to cut off the flames from that little patch.

"There were plenty of birds there; and when we proceeded to investigate we soon found that there were animals also—small monkeys, creatures very like hares but with short ears, a few deer; but nothing dangerous so far as we could discover. And there was an abundance of fruit of several kinds also; we therefore quickly determined to settle down there and rest a bit before going any farther. There was a great patch of reeds along the western end of the lake, and here thousands of wild duck used to settle every night; and we soon found that it was an easy matter to get a few by simply waiting for them among the reeds and catching them as they swam past.

"We built ourselves a hut of wattles, thatched with palm leaves, that kept us dry and comfortable when it rained. So happy and easy in our minds were we that we almost forgot your existence; and when we happened to remember, we used to say to each other: 'Never mind; we are every bit as comfortable as they are; we will stop on here a bit longer.' And so we did, deferring our departure day after day and week after week, until finally the ducks grew shy of us, and the other creatures seemed to recognise our traps and avoid them; so that at length a time came when we were pretty hard put to it to make a living. Then, too, we began to feel lonesome, and to get snappy and short-tempered with each other; to dream and think and talk about home and its comforts, until we grew thoroughly dissatisfied with the life we were living; and one day, after we had had one of our now frequent quarrels, I said to Dirk:—

"'Look here, mate, we appear to have quite forgotten those other two. Do you think that a man of brains like Mr Blackburn is going to settle down and be satisfied to pass the remainder of his life among a group of desert islands like these? Because, if you do, I don't. Just consider the facts. There is he and the boy; and you may safely bet that, whatever else they may have done, or left undone, they will have taken care to save the treasure that we found aboard that old galleon; and what good will it do them so long as they remain here? No good at all. Therefore I think we may take it for granted that he will set his wits to work to get away from here by hook or by crook, taking the treasure with them; and then where do we come in, and what becomes of our share of it? Let us cut adrift from this spot—which, anyhow, is of no further use to us—and join them; and when they go, we will go with them, and take our share of the treasure.'

"Dirk quite saw the force of my reasoning and eagerly agreed to my proposal; so we made a start there and then, and—and here we are."



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

IS TROUBLE BREWING?

"Exactly," I concurred. "Here you are. But how did you know where Billy and I had located ourselves? and how did you contrive to make your way here from the southern end of West Island?"

"West Island—is that the name of the place? Oh, we managed pretty well," returned Svorenssen. "From the ridge of the hill where the forest was all burned away we were able to get a very fair idea of the geography of the group in general. We counted six islands in addition to the one we were already on, and we observed that the one to the eastward of us was, like our own, fire-swept; also that at one point it was separated from our island by a channel only about half a mile wide. To the northward of that island we saw another, with small groups of trees dotted about here and there upon it, while the remainder of its surface appeared to be covered with corn-fields or something similar; so it is not to be wondered at if we jumped to the conclusion that we should find you established there. So we made a start by heading for the narrowest part of the channel between our own island and the next one, carrying with us as much fruit as we could handle, for we knew not when or where we should find more.

"Upon reaching the channel the question that confronted us was: How were we going to get across? We could see but one way, and that was to swim it. But what about sharks? We had already lost one of our number through them, and we had no desire that a similar fate should befall either of us. Therefore we camped alongside that channel two days, and while one of us foraged for food, the other just sat and intently watched the water. And when the evening of the second day arrived without disclosing any sign of sharks in the channel, we agreed to risk the passage; so we stripped off our clothes—or what remained of them— made them into a bundle, secured them upon our heads, and waded in.

"We got across safely, and were lucky enough to land just where a little stream of fresh water came down from the hill that rose in the middle of the island. We camped alongside the stream that night, and made our supper of melons and ground-nuts that had grown since the passage of the fire over the land. On the following day we proceeded inland, following the course of the stream and heading toward the top of the hill, from which we hoped to obtain a little further knowledge of the geography of the group and also, it might be, some more definite information as to your own whereabouts. And we were successful in both particulars, for while we were on the top of that hill we saw your sailing boat coming round the eastern end of the island across the channel northward of us. Watching you, we saw you land on that island, stay there a while, and then sail away again in a north-easterly direction. Upon seeing this, Dirk and I came to the conclusion that the proper thing for us to do would be to descend to the beach, and there await your next appearance, when we would signal you. We had already detected a little stream flowing down the hill-side and discharging into the channel, quite near the spot where we decided to await your reappearance, so we followed it down to the water's edge, where we camped. Then that same evening your boat again hove in sight, and we saw you land a party of niggers just opposite where we were watching; having done which you again made sail to the northward and eastward; which led us to the conclusion that after all you had not settled upon that cultivated island—as we had at first supposed—but somewhere else. Of course we showed ourselves upon the beach, and hailed; but the channel was too wide for our voices to carry across, and probably you never looked in our direction, so we failed to attract your attention. But we knew now that you were still on the group, and that we were on your track; so we did not trouble overmuch.

"Then, before your boat had passed out of sight, and while we were still watching, we saw a nigger paddling across the channel from the island you had touched at to the one that we were upon. He was heading to land at a spot rather more than a mile to the eastward of where we were, so we got back into the young growth that had sprung up after the fire, and pushed along toward the spot for which he was making. We arrived a few minutes before he did and, crouching down, we saw him haul up his tub of a canoe on the beach, and make his way inland. We allowed him to get well away from the beach, and then we crept down to the canoe, launched her, and proceeded to paddle in the track of your boat.

"It fell dark almost before we had got fairly under way, but there was a fine moon, so it did not greatly matter. We paddled down the channel and across it to the point round which you had recently vanished—a good eight miles we reckoned it to be—and hot work it was for two men who had been on short commons for more than a month; but we forgot all about that when, upon rounding the point, we saw, at a distance of not more than five or six miles, a light; and we knew that now you could not be very far away, while we were in possession of the means to reach you. But it was a tough job to get that little tub of the nigger's along when once we had rounded the point, for at once we felt the full strength of the easterly breeze, and it and the popple it raised were together just as much as we could barely stem. It must have taken us hours to get across that five or six miles of water; and long before we landed you had put all lights out, and turned in; but there was the house, plain enough to be seen in the bright moonlight, so we headed straight for it, and landed at last on the beach just below."

"And what became of the punt that you stole from that unfortunate native?" I demanded.

"Why, I reckon she's still there on the beach where we left her," was the reply.

"Still there!" I exclaimed. "Why—yes—I suppose she is. This must be looked to at once. Billy, take this man, Van Ryn, with you, and get him to show you where they left the punt. Then you and he will paddle her round to the cove here, and make her fast astern of the sailing boat. Then get the sailing boat under way, and Van Ryn will point out to you the spot on Apes' Island from which he and Svorenssen took her—"

"Nod me, misder; don'd you think id!" suddenly stormed the Dutchman. "You're nod my schibber now, and I don'd dake orders from you or anybody else. Ve're all equal now."

"Are we?" said I, slipping my hand into my jacket pocket. "That's where you are making a big mistake, my man. I mean to be just as much skipper here as I was aboard the Yorkshire Lass; and if you men wish to share in the comforts of life that I am able to give you, and to go home with me when I go, you will have to submit to discipline, and obey my orders."

"Ah! ve'll see about dot," interrupted Van Ryn, springing to his feet. "Olaf, mine zon, haf ve comed all dis vay from over yonder to be ordered about mit dis man? Let's show 'im dot ve means to do as ve likes here. Come on!" And, whipping out the remains of his sheath knife, he gathered himself together for a spring upon me, with one eye on Svorenssen meanwhile, in full expectation that the latter would back him up.

But I was fully prepared. There had been, from the moment when I first encountered these two men, early that morning, a certain truculence of speech and demeanour that warned me against trusting them too implicitly, and I had been on my guard with them all day. So now, as the Dutchman sprang to his feet I sprang to mine, and, leaping back from them, out of arms' reach, I whipped out the revolver that I had been carrying all day in my jacket pocket, and shouted:

"Hands up, both of you! Don't so much as think of trying conclusions with me; for if either of you advance a single step, I shoot—to kill! I remember the reputation you two men—and you especially, Van Ryn— earned for yourselves aboard the brigantine; you were perpetually instigating trouble. But don't for a moment imagine that you will be permitted to make trouble here, for I simply won't have it. At the first hint of anything of that sort I'll hand you over to my friends, the natives of yonder island, and ask them to take charge of you; indeed I believe it would only be an act of ordinary prudence to turn you over to them at once."

"No, no, Mister," interposed Svorenssen hurriedly, "don't think of it. There ain't goin' to be any trouble, I assure ye. Don't take any notice o' what Dirk says, Mister; 'is bark's always a lot worse 'n 'is bite. He don't mean a half nor a quarter of what 'e says—sit down, you thunderin' fool, and put away that knife of yours," he continued, turning suddenly upon the Dutchman and forcing him back on the packing- case upon which they had both been sitting, and seating himself beside him. Then he leaned over his companion and began whispering hurriedly and excitedly in his ear.

"Stop that, Svorenssen!" I exclaimed. "If you have any advice to give that man, speak it aloud, so that I may hear. If it is good advice there is no need to whisper it."

"All right, Mister," returned the Finn, "I was only tellin' him not to make a bloomin' fool of hisself. And now, come on, Dirk, and let's do what Mr Blackburn orders. What 'e says is right; he's skipper still, and we may's well recernise it first as last. You knows as well as I do that we can't do nothin' without 'im. Come along, Billy."

Thereupon the two men rose to their feet and proceeded to slouch along the shore in the direction of the spot where they had left the punt.

"On second thoughts," said I, "go, you two men, and bring the punt round here to the cove; and Billy and I will come out in the sailing boat to meet you."

Svorenssen waved his hand to indicate that he understood, and the two men continued on their way; the Finn, I observed, talking very earnestly to his companion.

As soon as they were out of sight, Billy and I walked down to the boat, boarded her, got under way, and worked her round to the south beach, off which we fell in with and took the punt in tow. The breeze was blowing moderately fresh, which enabled us to make the trip to Apes' Island in a trifle over two hours, at the end of which we found the unfortunate native, squatted on his haunches, anxiously awaiting deliverance from the former haunt of his enemies, where I perceived the young vegetation was already flourishing vigorously. We at once took the man aboard, where, during our passage across to Cliff Island, I explained to him as best I could the episode of the stolen punt—to the amazement of the two seaman, who seemed to regard as wonderful the fact that in the course of a year I had acquired a fairly fluent command of the natives' language. I observed with satisfaction that, when Bowata and a considerable company of the natives came down to the beach to greet us upon seeing our boat heading for the landing-place, the two seamen looked more than a trifle uneasy, fearing perhaps that I would seize the opportunity to fulfil my threat to hand them over to the charge of the blacks; and I was not sorry to let them see thus early what a powerful force of auxiliaries I had behind me should they be meditating anything in the nature of an undue assertion of independence. I designedly directed the particular attention of Bowata and his followers to my new companions, explaining who and what they were; but of course the shellbacks understood nothing of what I was saying, and they made little or no attempt to conceal their relief when I at length bade farewell to the blacks and we made sail again upon our return to Eden.

On the following morning I resumed work upon the cutter; and I thought that Van Ryn and Svorenssen looked somewhat disconcerted when, in accordance with my arrangement with Bowata, a party of ten sturdy natives arrived at the shipyard about 8 a.m. in the Chinese boat I had given them, to lend us a hand as and when required. But the two seamen turned to without demur, and I soon had reason to congratulate myself upon my acquisition of them; for while Svorenssen revealed an almost professional skill in the use of carpenters' tools, the Dutchman explained that if I would cut out the cutter's sails he would undertake to make them to my entire satisfaction. Both men did much more and far better work than I in the least anticipated; and when at length we knocked off work for the day, and I surveyed the result of that one day's work, I felt that I might now at last begin to calculate, with some approach to accuracy, the date at which our labours might be expected to come to a successful conclusion. Two days later Van Ryn— who was working at the new sails under the shade of a tree at some distance from the shipyard—requested that, if possible, I would spare Billy to assist him; and as the request seemed reasonable I acceded to it without demur.

Thereafter matters went so smoothly for a fortnight or more that, in my satisfaction at the progress we were making, I almost forgot the suspicions which the attitude and utterances of the two seamen had aroused when they so unexpectedly reappeared upon the scene. With their assistance, work upon the cutter had progressed so speedily that the planking of her was completed, the laying of her deck about half done, her mast and bowsprit finished, and her mainsail and gaff-topsail sewn and in process of roping; I therefore estimated that another month would see my ambitious project complete and possibly ourselves at sea.

But my complacency was somewhat disturbed when, on a certain evening, I was instructing Billy in the problem of the reduction of the sun's altitude to the meridian. I had concluded my explanation of the problem, when the boy, glancing up at me with a smile, remarked:

"That chap, Van Ryn, is awfully inquisitive, Mr Blackburn. He was chaffing me to-day upon the difference in my manner of speaking now from what it was when he first knew me, and I said: Yes, I had to thank you for it, for you had insisted I should study and improve my education every evening since we had been cast away. Then he wanted to know all about what you had taught me, and how much I knew; and I told him that you had been teaching me arithmetic, geometry, algebra, trigonometry, geography, and navigation; and that last word surprised him, I can tell you. It was amusing to see how interested he at once became; he wanted to know just how much I knew about navigation; and he would hardly believe me when I told him that I knew enough to enable me to determine a ship's position, day or night, provided that the sky was clear and I could get a sight of certain heavenly bodies. But when I insisted that I could do all I had said, he seemed no end pleased. 'Ah,' he said, 'I must tell Svorenssen what you say; he will be glad to hear it. It was only a few nights ago that we were talking about the time when we should leave these islands, and saying what a fix we should all be in if Mr Blackburn should meet with another accident, or fall ill while we were at sea. And so you really believe, Billy, that if such a thing should happen, you could navigate the cutter?' I said I was quite sure I could; and then the conversation dropped; but he kept harking back to it, time after time, showing that he was still thinking about it."

"Yes," said I, "I can quite believe it; and I can understand, too, his amazement at your assurance that you—a mere boy—could, if put to it, navigate the cutter, or any other craft for that matter. There is probably not one boy in ten thousand of your age, Billy, who could truthfully claim such ability. But two circumstances have been in your favour; in the first place you are naturally a sharp, intelligent lad, with a strong predilection for study; and in the next place there was little else for you to do on this group but learn, until we started to build the cutter. Now, Billy, what you have told me relative to Van Ryn's inquisitiveness and his cross-questioning of you has greatly interested me, for a reason which I will explain later on; therefore, while I am not as a rule inquisitive, I will ask you to make a point of reporting to me the substance of any further conversations which the man may hold with you, and to take very particular notice of any questions he may ask you. And now, let us return to the consideration of our nautical problem."

At the moment it seemed strange that Billy's story should so powerfully have affected me, but the fact remains that it did. After we had turned in that night I lay restlessly tossing upon my bed, wondering—wondering whether Van Ryn's questioning of Billy was the natural result of pure, unadulterated inquisitiveness, or whether it had a deeper significance. The conversation appeared to have arisen naturally enough. I could not detect in the relation of it any indication of a deliberate attempt on the part of the man to lead up to the subject of Billy's educational acquirements; what reason, indeed, could he have for doing so, apart from the lad's more refined mode of speech? The matter that most powerfully exercised me was the Dutchman's eager curiosity to discover the full extent of Billy's qualifications as a navigator. Yet, even as to this, there seemed little enough reason for uneasiness; the man had given a quite plausible reason for such curiosity, a reason that I could perfectly understand and appreciate; but I wondered whether it was the true, the actual reason; or was there another and more sinister one at the back of his evil mind.

In any case, what, I wondered, could have put the thought in the Dutchman's head that something might possibly happen to me while we were at sea. Certainly the experience had already befallen him once since the commencement of the voyage; but with men of such limited intelligence as that of Van Ryn and Svorenssen even such an experience as that usually makes so very transitory an impression that it soon fades. Moreover, the difficulty had been surmounted, and they would naturally believe that, should it again arise, it could again be surmounted in the same way. The only reason that I could think of why such an idea should have taken so strong a hold upon the Dutchman's mind was that, under certain circumstances, the eventuality of which he had spoken might be very much more than possible: it might be inevitable.

Reasoning thus, I next asked myself the question: Should anything happen to me—should I, for instance, die, either aboard the cutter or before leaving the islands—how would my death affect the fortunes of those two men, Svorenssen and Van Ryn, to say nothing of that of Billy? And why should it be desired to get rid of me?

Those were not difficult questions to answer. In either of the above hypothetical cases the boy would be absolutely in the power and at the mercy of the two men; and I shuddered to think of what would happen to him, with me out of the way. Svorenssen and Van Ryn were both big powerful men, and, should they resort to violence, what could a boy do by way of resisting them? Then the cutter was now so far advanced that, at a pinch, the two seamen could complete her, launch her, and make her ready for sea without my assistance. Their escape from the group was therefore in any case assured; while, so far as the navigation of the craft was concerned, they had already wormed out of Billy the information that he was competent to undertake that.

But if the two seamen were actually conspiring against me, as I now began to think was at least probable, their primary object would doubtless be to secure the whole of the treasure for themselves. They doubtless recognised that so long as I—a man as powerful as either of them, with a mind already tinctured with suspicion of them—lived, to attempt to secure more than their fair share of the treasure might be both difficult and dangerous, and possibly even result in failure. But with me effectually disposed of the enterprise would wear a totally different aspect. They would complete the cutter, sail away in her, with the treasure on board and Billy as navigator, willing or unwilling, and upon arriving within sight of their destination they would murder the poor boy; and the rest would be easy—or so they would probably believe. Yes; knowing the men so well as I did, I felt that there was ground for suspicion of them, and I resolved that, without appearing to do so, I would henceforth keep a wary eye upon them both, and be constantly, day and night, on my guard against any act of treachery on their part.

Now it was not often that Billy did anything foolish; but boys will always be boys, to the end of time, I expect; and about a week after the lad's conversation with me on the subject of Van Ryn's inquisitiveness the spirit of mischief suddenly seized him and, "just for a lark", as he subsequently admitted to me, he must needs leave the Dutchman, upon some pretence, run up to the house, and then pay us a visit at the shipyard, bringing Kit with him on a leash, that he might enjoy the consternation of the natives at the sight of the leopard. It was fortunate that I spotted the pair when I did, for the beast was already beyond Billy's control and dragging the lad helplessly after him with the evident determination to interview the strangers more closely. The animal, although not yet fully grown, had developed into a magnificent specimen of his kind, as big as a mastiff and about twice as powerful. To hold him when I hurriedly relieved Billy of his charge taxed my strength to such an extent that I was obliged to shout to the workers to quit work and get into hiding at a safe distance; but, even so, the scent of the men excited Kit to such an extent that it was only with the utmost difficulty I was able to drag him back to the bungalow and safely lash him up.

I was therefore not very greatly surprised when, after work was over that evening, Svorenssen approached me and said:

"See here, Mister, did ye happen to salve the arms chest from the wreck before she washed off the reef and foundered?"

"Yes," I said. "What about it?"

"Why, just this," he blustered. "Me and Dirk wants a brace of revolvers, cartridges, and a cutlash apiece out of that chest. That's what about it."

"Really!" said I. "A very modest request, very modestly put. Is it permissible to ask why you want those things, and in what way you purpose to use them?"

"Oh yes, cert'nly," was the reply. "There's no objections to you astin' as many questions as you bloomin' well likes. We wants 'em to purtect ourselves again' that snarlin', savage leopard o' yours. It ain't safe to be on the same hisland with the brute."

"He will not interfere with you, or molest you in any way if you give him a wide berth," I retorted. "As to giving you the weapons you demand, I won't do it, so that's flat."

"You won't, eh?" returned the Finn, glowering at me savagely. "Then all I can say, Mister, is that me and Dirk 'll have to see what can be done about purtectin' ourselves. I, for one, ain't goin' to take the risk of bein' tore to pieces; no, not for another day, and so I gives you warnin'."

"Now, see here, Svorenssen," said I. "I can make allowance—and do—for your very natural fear of the leopard; but, as I have already told you, the animal will not hurt either of you men if you keep clear of him. And don't let me hear any more of such talk as you have been indulging in during the last few minutes. You forget yourself, my man; and you seem to forget also that you came to this island of your own free will. I did not invite you. I did not even want you; I was doing quite well without your assistance, as I can again, if necessary. So let me have no more threats of any sort, or I shall be compelled, for peace and quietness' sake, to request my friend Bowata and his people to take charge of you. This is not the first time that you have obliged me to say this. I shall not again repeat it. Let there be no more bickering between us. The cutter is very nearly completed and, please God, we shall soon be at sea in her and on our way back to civilisation and home."

The man stared at me for several seconds with, I thought, murder in his eyes, then he turned away, remarking:

"All right, Mister, you're top dog now, and what you says goes, but—"

I affected not to catch that final word, but proceeded to indicate to the natives the several jobs upon which I wished them to employ themselves on the morrow. But what, I wondered, was the explanation of this fresh outburst of turbulence on Svorenssen's part—for fresh it was. Only once before had he displayed such insolence of manner to me; and I wondered whether, perchance, it had any connection with the suspicions that had been bred in my mind by Billy's report of the Dutchman's recent conversation with him. But, I argued, those suspicions might be wholly unfounded, and be the result of a certain unsuspected mental disorder brought about by the long series of unusual experiences through which I had passed, beginning with the destruction of the Saturn. In any case, whether my suspicions were well founded or otherwise, there could be no disputing the fact that the two seamen were turbulent, unruly, violent characters, liable at any moment to become dangerous; and therefore they must be carefully watched. As for voluntarily furnishing them with weapons, and so rendering them ten times more dangerous than they already were, if Svorenssen really imagined I would do such a thing he must surely have set me down for a fool.

From this time forward, without appearing to do so, I maintained a close watch upon both men, noting and weighing their every word, and endeavouring to deduce from their general conduct, and especially from their demeanour toward myself, whether or not they were really hatching a plot against me; but for rather more than a week I was unable to detect anything to justify the least apprehension on my part. Of course it was impossible for me to observe the pair when they were alone together after the day's work was done, but although Svorenssen maintained his usual surly demeanour I attached little importance to that, for I believed it to be natural to him, while there was no doubt that both men were working steadily and well.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

A TRAGIC END TO OUR TROUBLES.

On a certain evening, some eight or ten days after that outburst on the part of the Finn in connection with his demand for weapons, Billy remarked to me, apropos of nothing in particular, as we sat together studying as usual:

"That Dutchman is a queer chap and no mistake, Mr Blackburn. He will sit for hours, saying never a word but: 'Billy, pass me that,' or 'Billy, take hold of this,' and then all of a sudden he'll begin to chatter like a parrot."

"Really!" said I. "And what does he chatter about?"

"Oh, all sorts of things," answered Billy, "chiefly about what he and Svorenssen went through before they joined us here. And he likes to hear how we managed, too, before we settled down on Eden. Do you know, I'm beginning to think he's not such a bad sort of chap after all. He seems to admire you immensely."

"Does he, indeed?" I commented dryly. "In what particular way does he reveal his admiration?"

"Well," said Billy, "he thinks you are perfectly wonderful, every way. Wonderfully clever as a navigator, you know; clever to have been able to build the sailing boat; still more clever to have designed and very nearly built such a beautiful craft as the cutter; and most clever of all to have built this bungalow. He said that he could understand that a clever sailor like you might be able to build a boat; but he could not understand how any sailor—even you—could build such a fine house. He wanted to know how long it took us to build it, and how we set about it, whether you invented it as we went on, or whether you drew it out on paper beforehand; and when I said that you had drawn it all out before we began to build, he said that he'd dearly like to see the drawing, because it would give him some wrinkles if he should ever again be shipwrecked."

"And what did you say to that?" I asked.

"Well," said Billy, "you see, I thought it was perhaps his roundabout way of asking me to show him the plan, so I said I didn't know where it was; that I rather thought you had destroyed it; and when I said that, the poor chap looked so disappointed that I showed him what it was like, by sketching it out on the ground with the point of a sail needle."

"That is very interesting," I said. "Here is paper and a pencil. Just reproduce on it, as nearly as you can, the sketch you made on the ground."

The boy took the pencil and paper, and in a few minutes completed a rough but quite accurate plan of the bungalow, showing the relative positions of the several rooms in the front and rear portions of the house. I observed also that he indicated with scrupulous fidelity the position of every window and door, showing the possibility of passing from any one room to any other, through the passages and the living- room.

"This sketch does you credit," I said. "It gives an excellent idea of the general arrangement of the house; but I really do not see how the information it affords is in the least degree likely to be of use to Van Ryn, even should he be shipwrecked a dozen times over. To speak quite frankly, I would very much rather that you had not made that sketch on the ground for his information. Do you think he understood it?"

"No," confessed Billy, "I don't believe he did, for he asked all sorts of silly questions about it that he wouldn't have asked if he had understood the plan."

"Ah, indeed!" said I. "Do you happen to remember any of those questions?"

"N-o, I don't think I do," replied Billy. "They were so awfully stupid that I didn't pay much attention to them. I explained that those marks,"—pointing to the drawing—"represented doors; yet the silly ass couldn't understand how the servants got from their room to the kitchen, nor how they brought our meals from the kitchen to the living-room without going outside and walking round the house. And he couldn't understand how you and I got from our rooms to the living-room without going outside."

"That's too bad," said I. "It seems to reflect upon your powers of description, doesn't it, Billy?"

"It does, rather," admitted the boy, "yet I did my best to make him understand. But he didn't seem able to grasp that we were supposed to be looking down upon the bungalow, with the roof off. He persisted in thinking that we were looking square at it, and that the rooms in the rear were above those in the front of the house."

"Stupid fellow!" I commented. "And was the house the only thing he manifested curiosity about?"

"Oh no," answered Billy; "there were lots of other things he asked about. He wanted to know where we got Kit from, and how it is that he is so tame with us, and so savage with everybody else. He asked if we weren't afraid that some day he would turn upon us and do us an injury. He said that if he was boss he'd shoot the beast right away; and he grumbled a bit because you wouldn't give him and Svorenssen any firearms to defend themselves with, not only from the leopard but also from the natives, whom, he said, he didn't trust a little bit, and who might come across any night and massacre us all in our sleep. Then he wanted to know how we are going to get the cutter into the water when she is ready for launching; and then—let me see—oh, yes, we got on about the natives again—and the apes. He said it was all very well for us who could bolt ourselves securely in the house at night; but what about him and Svorenssen if an ape should come across and surprise them in their tent some night? How were they to defend themselves without weapons of any kind? I laughed at that, and told him that there was so little likelihood of anything of that sort happening that we never closed our doors or windows, except when it rained. But he said that didn't matter; we could defend ourselves if such a thing happened, because we had plenty of arms; and they ought to have some too. He said that, what with the leopard, the apes, and the savages, life was none too safe for unarmed men like him and the Finn."

"Did his terror seem quite real, or do you think it was at all exaggerated?" I asked.

"Oh no," asserted Billy, with conviction; "it was real enough, and it wasn't exaggerated either; he was in a regular funk. You see, he and Svorenssen had a pretty bad time, one way and another, all the time they were on West Island; but it was the apes that frightened them worst of all."

"Yes," I agreed, "I can quite understand that; but,"—as an idea suggested itself to me—"do you think Van Ryn suspects that you repeat these conversations of his to me?"

"N-o, I don't think so," answered the boy. "Why should he. I don't believe such a thought ever enters his head."

I did not feel by any means so sure of that as Billy seemed to be. If the man suspected that his remarks and questionings were repeated to me, his assumption of extreme stupidity might be explained as designed to disarm any suspicion aroused in my mind by the queer character of some of his questions. Take those relating to the arrangement of the house, for example. The pretence that the information would be valuable to him, should he ever again be cast away, was altogether too puerile for consideration; he required the information—and very cleverly extracted it from the unsuspecting Billy, too—for some entirely different reason. But what was that reason? I wondered.

I was not long kept wondering.

The second night after the above-recorded conversation between Billy and myself brought with it the threat of a change of weather. It had been exceptionally hot all day, with less wind than usual, and there was a languorous quality in the atmosphere that seemed to portend thunder, a portent that was strengthened toward nightfall when the wind died away to the merest zephyr, while a great bank of heavy, lowering cloud piled itself up slowly along the eastern horizon so that the rising full moon had no chance to show herself. As the evening progressed what little air of wind there was died completely away, and we were left, with all doors and windows flung wide open, gasping for breath, and sweltering as in a Turkish bath. I endured it as long as I could, and then, tossing aside the book I was attempting to read, announced my determination to go down to the cove and have a swim.

Billy declared that he would like a swim too, if he could take a header off the veranda into deep water; but as to walking down to the cove in that heat—no; much as he would enjoy a dip he wasn't prepared to undergo that amount of exertion to get it.

As the gathering storm seemed unlikely to break suddenly, I did not unduly hurry over my dip, but remained in the water about an hour, emerging at last delightfully cool, and quite ready for bed. Upon my return to the house I found Billy still up and poring over a book; but he confessed to feeling sleepy, upon which I ordered the boy off to bed forthwith and, extinguishing the lamp in the living-room, retired to my own apartment and straightway turned in; being quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of pouring rain that began just as I stretched myself upon my bed.

It seemed as though I had only just fallen asleep when I awoke with startling suddenness. The rain was pelting down on the roof in torrents, making quite noise enough to account for my sudden awakening, through which I could just hear poor Kit whining and fidgeting restlessly under the veranda, outside my French window. Imagining that it was these combined sounds that had awakened me, I rose, thinking:

"I must fetch that animal indoors. I expect the poor beggar is getting pretty wet, hence his restlessness."

One of the doors of my room opened into the living-room, while the other gave on to the veranda, both of them being wide open. As I passed through the latter a vivid flash of lightning revealed the rain coming straight down in sheets and rebounding in glittering spray off the already streaming earth, with Kit straining at his leash, which Billy had made fast as usual to one of the veranda posts. The beast had withdrawn himself as far under the veranda as his leash would permit, and he did not appear to be very wet; but he seemed anxious to enjoy the more complete shelter of the living-room, so I stepped out and cast him adrift.

To my amazement, the instant that I released him from his leash, he tore himself away from my hold upon his collar and, with a savage snarl, bounded through the living-room door. The next instant there issued from the interior of the room a yell of consternation, immediately followed by a shriek of terror, the fall of a heavy body on the floor, screams, execrations, and the dreadful sound of Kit worrying somebody or something; and before I could draw another breath the figure of a yelling, screaming, frantic man dashed from the room, cleared the veranda steps at a bound, landed heavily on the ground some five feet below, and, still screaming, disappeared through the curtain of pouring rain.

But the sounds from the living-room still continued with increasing violence, augmented now by cries from Billy, whose form I dimly descried outlined against the dark background of the open door; and a perception of what had happened, and was still happening, leapt to my brain with sudden enlightenment.

"Bring a light, Billy, quick!" I shouted, as I sprang through into the living-room and, instinctively avoiding the table that stood in the middle of the room, flung myself upon the struggling group on the floor. My hands at once came into contact with Kit's hairy hide, and slid along it until they closed upon the collar round his neck, when, exerting all my strength, I dragged the beast, still savagely snarling and resisting, off the writhing and groaning form at my feet. Somehow— to this day I know not how—I managed to drag the fiercely struggling creature out of the room and back to the veranda, where I securely tied him up again. Then I returned to the living-room as Billy entered it with a lighted lamp.

I took the lamp from him and said:

"Light the lamp in my room, boy, and then lend me a hand to put this man on my bed."

I next turned to the writhing, groaning figure on the floor and saw that, as I had already surmised, it was that of—Svorenssen! He was dressed only in shirt and trousers, both of which, rain-sodden and drenched with blood, were torn to rags by the teeth and claws of the leopard, which was still raving outside and doing his utmost to break adrift from his moorings. The man's injuries, especially about the throat, shoulders, arms, and chest, were shocking; and I felt that, with the limited appliances at our command, there was but very small hope of saving his life. He still grasped in his right hand a formidable bludgeon, and a similar weapon lay on the floor near him.

I had only time to take in these details when Billy returned, and between us we contrived to half carry, half drag the writhing and groaning Finn into my room and deposit him on my bed. I then sent Billy to the natives' room, the occupants of which had been roused by the disturbance, bidding him set them to work providing warm water and such other matters as I thought I might require.

Guided by the book of instructions attached to the medicine-chest, I did the best I could for the injured man; but his wounds were of so ghastly a nature, and his suffering so acute, that I recognised from the very outset, not only that it was impossible he should recover, but that death must ensue in a very few hours. And it was dreadful to sit there by his side, listening to his moans, liberally interspersed with curses of the leopard, of me, and not infrequently of mankind in general, and to reflect that that flood of blasphemy was issuing from the lips of a man hovering on the brink of eternity! At length I could endure it no longer, and I said to him, rather sharply, I am afraid:

"Stop that blasphemy, Svorenssen, for pity's sake, and rather turn your thoughts to prayer—if you know how to pray. I fear that your life has been a deplorably misspent one, and it can last but a few hours longer. Before to-morrow's sun sets you will be face to face with God! Therefore I urge you to devote the few remaining hours at your disposal to making your peace with Him, instead of cursing those who have never knowingly wronged you."

"What—d'ye—mean?" he gaspingly demanded. "I—ain't goin'—to—die—am I?"

"Yes," I said, "you are; and it is well that you should know it. Therefore, forget all your wrongs, real or imaginary, and—"

But here I was interrupted by an outburst of such vile and savage profanity that it literally rendered me speechless. It lasted, I suppose, fully ten minutes, and left its utterer gasping and in a state of collapse. I administered stimulant, and at length the colour came slowly back to the sufferer's cheeks and lips, and he opened his eyes. For several minutes he lay there gazing up at me steadfastly, questioningly; then he muttered:

"Thank 'e, Mister. If it hadn't been for you I'd have slipped my cable that time. And so you think I'm goin' to die? Well, I'm beginnin' to think so myself now. My God! it's awful to think that a few hours more and I shall be face to face with my Maker, and bein' called to account for a whole lifetime of wickedness. And there's no way out!"

"Oh, but there is," I said eagerly, and thereupon I began to expound, with all the earnestness at my command, and as lucidly as I could, the wonderful story of man's redemption. I got my Bible and read passage after passage suited to the dying man's needs, until the expression of terror and anxiety gradually faded from his features, and ultimately his eyes closed and he seemed to fall asleep. Then the day dawned and Billy, entering softly, took my place as watcher while I snatched a brief hour or two of sleep on his bed.

I was aroused by the clatter of crockery in the living-room, where the native women were making ready to serve breakfast—for even when the shadow of Death hovers over a house its inmates must needs eat and drink; and then one of the natives who every day came over to help with the work on the cutter, brought the news that the sailing boat had disappeared, the inference being that Van Ryn had taken her. Nevertheless, I gave orders that Eden should be thoroughly searched for him; but he was never found, nor was the boat, and that was the end of him so far as we were concerned, for we never again heard of him.

When breakfast was ready I tiptoed to the door of my bedroom and beckoned Billy, who crept softly out, closing the door behind him.

"He is asleep again now," the boy whispered; "but he is dying in peace; and he wants to see you, Mr Blackburn, before he passes away, that he may repeat to you the terrible confession that he has made to me."

We took breakfast in silence, for our minds were full of thoughts too deep for utterance; and when we had finished I resumed my post beside the dying man's bed. Svorenssen was still asleep—the sleep of utter exhaustion; but he was very uneasy, and moaning occasionally. About half an hour later, however, he awoke and, after I had again given him a stimulant, he stammered and gasped the confession he desired to make.

There is no need to repeat it here word for word. In substance it was to the effect that Van Ryn had proposed, and he had agreed, that they two, obtaining entry through the back of the house, should murder me—in my sleep if possible—arm themselves from the arms chest, and thereafter impose their will upon poor Billy. The cutter was to be completed and launched, the treasure shipped aboard her, and the conspirators, with Billy as forced navigator, were to make their way to some civilised port, arrived in sight of which, Billy was to be knocked on the head and hove overboard—exactly as I had suspected—while the two men were to divide the treasure equally between them. It was a dreadful confession for a man to make; and I found it bitterly hard to utter the words of forgiveness that were so piteously pleaded for, but I forced myself to do so at last; and shortly after noon of that day the man, happy now and, I believe, at peace with his Maker, passed away. We buried his body an hour or two later.

With the death of one, and the disappearance of the other of the two men who had come into our lives, only to act as a disturbing element from almost the first moment of our acquaintance with them, all my worries and anxieties passed away like the memory of an evil dream; and upon the day following that of Svorenssen's death I turned with renewed zest to the completion of the cutter. The hull was by this time practically finished; her deck was laid, her companion and tiny self-emptying cockpit completed, and all that was now needed was to run a low bulwark around her, rig and step the completed mast and bowsprit, bend the sails, ballast and launch her, get the stores, water, and treasure aboard; and up anchor and away.

Taken as it stands, that list of work still remaining to be done looks simple enough; yet it took me a full month to complete it, for the greater part of it was of so technical a character that the natives were of little assistance to me, and I had to do most of it with my own hands. Also, I found that Van Ryn had by no means completed the task he had undertaken to perform; the two topsails—square-header and jib- header—still needed roping, as did the jib; and that work cost me several days' labour to complete to my satisfaction. Then there were the launching ways and the cradle to be built; and this task taxed my ingenuity to its utmost limit; but at length all was done, except the actual launching of the boat.

The finishing touches to my final preparations were completed too late in the afternoon for us to do anything more that day. Immediately after breakfast on the following morning, therefore, Billy and I climbed aboard the cutter, hoisted the Yorkshire Lass's ensign to her topmast head, suspended a bottle of wine—one of the very few that we had left— from her stem head, and then, leaving Billy aboard, I descended to the ground, removing the ladder by which we had ascended. The wedging-up having already been accomplished, I next took a maul and, shouting to Billy to "stand by", proceeded to knock away the spur shores. There was now a moment's hesitation on the part of the cutter, of which I took advantage to jump clear; and then she began to move, slowly at first but with rapidly increasing velocity, while I dashed the bottle of wine against the craft's cut-water, and named her the Dolphin, in accordance with Billy's earnestly expressed wish.

Two seconds later the craft took the water, plunging deeply with the foam brimming to her taffrail; then, rising buoyantly, she shot far out toward the middle of the cove until, in obedience to my hail, Billy let go her anchor and brought her up. I then saw that I had underestimated the amount of ballast required, and that she needed about half a ton more, and a slight readjustment of it to put her in correct trim. That, however, was an error that could be easily rectified; and meanwhile I was highly gratified by the graceful appearance she presented, now that she was afloat.

Next in order came a "cold collation" that I had caused to be prepared for the delectation of Bowata and his petty chiefs, the whole of whom I had invited over to Eden to witness the launch, and—Billy having been brought ashore in the islanders' boat—we forthwith fell to, all hands doing full justice to the feast. At its conclusion I formally presented the bungalow and all that we were leaving in it to Bowata, with a strict injunction to him and his to show the utmost kindness to any shipwrecked persons who might hereafter be so unfortunate as to be cast away on the group, an injunction which they all promised to obey most faithfully. Then followed our mutual farewells, to the accompaniment of much howling and weeping on the part of our black friends; after which the remainder of the day was devoted to the completion of the ballasting of the cutter and its correct adjustment.

There was but one other duty now to be done before we started for home, and that was the disposal of Kit, the leopard. Since the night when he so fearfully mauled Svorenssen the nature of the beast had undergone a material change for the worse. He had developed an uncertainty and ferocity of temper that rendered him distinctly unsafe and altogether unsuitable as a pet for anyone. With grief and many tears poor Billy was obliged to admit that such was the case; therefore it was at length agreed that he should be transported to West Island, where he could hurt no one, and where he would find ample prey for his sustenance; accordingly, on the following morning we weighed anchor and bade a final good-bye to our Pacific Eden, sailing through the East and North Island Channels to West Island, where, without mishap, we landed Kit and turned him adrift to shift for himself, not by any means without regret, for the beast had stood us in good stead on one memorable occasion. Then, sailing up North-west Channel, we entered the lagoon and, heading to the northward, passed through the wide gap in the reef, abreast of Shark Bay, and once more found ourselves riding buoyantly on the long swell of the open Pacific.

Of course I had long ago given most careful consideration to the question of where I should steer for, in the event of the cutter's completion, and after much study of the charts at my command I had decided to shape a course for Sydney, Australia. It meant a voyage of some two thousand three hundred and fifty miles across the open ocean in a ten-ton cutter, but I felt sure the Dolphin could do it, especially as we should have the south-east trade wind and the prospect of reasonably fine weather with us nearly all the way. Accordingly, as soon as we were fairly clear of the reef, I bore up and headed away to the southward, along the west side of the group, of which we finally lost sight about an hour before sunset.

To say that our voyage was unadventurous would be untrue; on the contrary, we had many thrilling adventures and several hair-breadth escapes from destruction, but lack of space forbids more than the bare mention of them here. Let it suffice to say that, after a voyage packed with sufficiently exciting incidents, we arrived safely in Sydney harbour on the twenty-third day after our departure from the group.

Arrived there, my first business was to negotiate with a firm of bankers for the exchange of some of the gold coinage, which formed part of our treasure, for a sufficient number of British sovereigns to carry both of us comfortably home, and, this done, we set about providing ourselves with outfits suitable for the voyage. It was, of course, impossible for us to keep our adventures entirely secret; a hint of them somehow got abroad, possibly from the people in the hotel at which we put up, and the enterprising reporters of the Sydney papers did the rest; one result of which was that I soon got from a local yachtsman so advantageous an offer for the Dolphin that I unhesitatingly accepted it. We spent a very pleasant fortnight in Sydney, many of its leading citizens vying with each other to show us hospitality; finally, on a certain day in the month of April we both embarked for England in an Orient liner, which, after a most delightful voyage, landed us in London on a glorious day in the month of May.

THE END