THE GLINT OF TREASURE.
THE brig “Captain Spencer,” came duly to her goal at the green Bahamas.
What with wounds received from the pirates, who had called so
unceremoniously, and from sea-sickness, which they always had, the
beef-eaters were glad of the sight of land. Phipps and Rust were filled
with rejoicings by reason of the dreams they had of thrusting a naked
arm apiece into the sea and fetching up handfuls of gold with which to
return to two sweet women in Boston.
All hands were presently doomed to disappointment. Phipps learned that
his treasure-ship was indeed a fact, but that she was small, both in
tonnage and her burden of Spanish coins, that she lay in many fathoms of
water and that, indeed, she was scarcely worth serious attention.
Phipps was, however, a popular man at these bits of jeweled land in the
emerald sea. He had traded there on several occasions, making friends
always. Thus it came that a hobbling old salt, whom he had befriended in
a scrimmage, consoled him with the information of a large treasure-ship,
sunk somewhere in the neighborhood of Hispaniola. He resolved at once to
pursue this matter to the end, for which purpose the “Captain Spencer”
would be wholly inadequate, as the Spanish Main was as filled with
pirates as the sky may be of buzzards over dying caravans.
With the approval of the entire party, the brig was now headed for
England, Adam and Phipps feeling confident of their ability to secure a
larger ship for their enterprise.
On familiar soil when the “Spencer” at length came to anchor, off the
tower of London, in the Thames, Adam had little difficulty in finding a
market for the brig. With the proceeds of the sale in his pockets,
William Phipps, under Adam’s tuition, blossomed out as a gentleman of no
little personal attractiveness. Adam, as one born to the purple, donned
a handsome attire and swaggered with all the elegance of a prince.
He was soon in the midst of his former acquaintances, with one of whom
he fought a duel at the end of the first week, requiring his vanquished
foe, who was only sufficiently wounded to be satisfied, to kneel in
humility and to wipe the victor’s blade clean of his own red juice, on
the hem of his coat.
Rust until now had never had occasion to regret the disfavor in which
Charles Stuart held him, since a certain distinguished lady had declared
the “Sachem” to be vastly more entertaining than his Majesty with ready
narratives. However, he was undismayed, for with James, fated so soon to
be king, he was amazingly friendly.
William Phipps, for his part, needed but one introduction and no
recommendation. Above all things temporal, James reveled in naval
adventure. Blunt, gallant Captain Phipps appealed to him instantly. The
tale of the treasure-ship set him aflame with eagerness to go with this
adventurous company to the western Indies, where he could readily
picture himself, Phipps and Adam fighting their way to the rotting
strongholds of the Spanish galleon, sunk there half a century before.
With an alacrity which was of a highly complimentary character to Phipps
and Rust, the Prince procured a fine vessel, the “Rose-Algier,” with a
crew of ninety-five men and an armament of eighteen guns, and gave her
into the trust of his friends for their enterprise. It was agreed that
inasmuch as he thus found the ship and the expenses of the venture, he
should have ninety per cent. of whatsoever treasure should be recovered,
Phipps declaring for himself and Adam how contented they would be with
the remaining one-tenth.
Late in the year, which was 1684, the “Rose-Algier” bore away for
Hispaniola, Phipps, Adam, and the faithful beef-eaters, whom seasickness
nor peril could drive from Adam’s side, soon beginning to wonder what
manner of crew it was with which they had shipped. A few weeks later,
King Charles the Second died. James ascended the throne. Thus the
treasure-seekers were backed by the English monarch and his government.
A sunken ship has frequently proved to be a small thing, and the ocean a
large one, to the seeker, eager for its cargo. The “Rose-Algier” dipped
into all manner of harbors and her master asked all manner of people all
manner of questions, to no avail. The months slipped by, in this tedious
occupation, the crew grew weary of a voyage so profitless and so
entirely unpromising.
The grumblings of mutiny have a way of keeping below decks, where they
simmer volcanically. Nevertheless the beef-eaters heard something of the
discontent in the fo’castle, where the ruffians of the crew were for
seizing the vessel, running up the black flag and turning pirate
forthwith. The Rose was a swift, great bird upon the waves, she was
armed to the teeth, she was well provisioned. What more could be desired
for buccaneering? And piracy paid its disciples handsomely. Spain and
France, particularly, had a hundred argosies in constant flight between
the West Indies and home. Gold was the commonest burden of all. Your
pirate was a dare-devil, whose life was reputed to be one long round of
adventure, drinking and looting. All pirates either died happy or hung,
and anything was better than this pothering about in a good ship,
seeking for treasure that was sunk admittedly, while millions of
treasure was afloat and nearly all to be had for the asking. With
precious few exceptions the crew agreed that this was true enough for
every practical purpose.
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