The Haunted Island
THE HAUNTED
ISLAND
A PIRATE ROMANCE
By
E. H. VISIAK
LONDON
ELKIN MATHEWS, VIGO STREET
MCMX
THE HAUNTED ISLAND
A PIRATE ROMANCE
Being the History of an Adventure to an Island in the Remote South Sea.
Of a Wizard there. Of his Pirate Gang; His Treasure; His Combustible;
His Skeleton Antic Lad. Of his Wisdom; Of his Poesy; His Barbarous
Cruelty; His Mighty Power. Of a Volcan on the Island. And of the
Ghostly Terror.
_TO
MY MOTHER_
[Illustration]
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. SCAMPERING AWAY 11
II. FRANCIS DREAMS A DREAM 19
III. THE CASTAWAYS 22
IV. VILLAINY 27
V. THE ENGLISHMAN’S RELATION. (THE ISLAND) 32
VI. THE ENGLISHMAN’S RELATION CONTINUED. (THE CELL) 38
VII. A HORRIBLE VILLAIN 47
VIII. THALASS 51
IX. OUVERY DELIVERS UP THE CHART 56
X. WE FALL IN WITH THE FLEET OF CAPTAIN MORGAN.
THE BUCCANEER’S HUT 59
XI. THE MAD MAROON 75
XII. THE WARNING SEA 85
XIII. THE GHOST 91
XIV. THE CUT CABLE 100
XV. THE ISLAND OF THE HOLY 104
XVI. SPIES OF CANAAN 106
XVII. DOCTOR COPICUS 114
XVIII. THE RUNNING MAN 120
XIX. THE CLOISTERS. THE DOCTOR AND THE VOLCAN 127
XX. THE PHANTOM VOICE 133
XXI. THE MANUSCRIPTS 138
XXII. THE GLORIOUS PIRATE 142
XXIII. HEY-DIDDLE-DIDDLE! 145
XXIV. A CURSE FALLS UPON THE WOLVES 148
XXV. A GAUDY PICTURE IN A DARK FRAME 153
XXVI. THE TREASURE CHAMBER 162
XXVII. FRANCIS FINDS HIS BROTHER’S WATCH 168
XXVIII. THE GHOST FACE 172
XXIX. THE FLOAT. THE WALKING LAD 176
XXX. HOW NOW? 180
XXXI. NEITHER ONE NOR THE OTHER 184
XXXII. HELL SHORE 188
SUPPLEMENT 192
THE HAUNTED ISLAND
CHAPTER I.
SCAMPERING AWAY.
On Christmas Eve, 1668, I, Francis Clayton, was with my brother Dick
at Clayton Manor, our father’s house. ’Tis seated on the bottom of
a Bay near Wembury, on the sea coast of Devon. My brother served in
quality of lieutenant on board His Majesty’s ship _Tiger_, and was but
late returned from a cruise off the Island of Jamaica. His ship lay at
anchor in the bay.
We sat over against one another on the hearth, in my little snug room.
The Squire and the servants were a-bed. The great old house slept,
with starting and creaking of the timbers. The fire was sunk together,
burning with a clear glow; the candles were wasted to the snuff in
their sockets.
My brother told a marvellous tale of the South Sea, of an island there
haunted by spirits, particularly by a monstrous great ghoul, or devil.
“Many rumours,” said he, “are gotten abroad of this enchanted island.
’Tis said that he who laid up the treasure had a truck with the devil,
and that a frightful fiend hath guard over it. I do certainly know ’tis
there. As to the rest, I am nothing concerned with such fantastic gear.
Once ashore there,” said he, “and not all the devils in hell shall keep
me from the treasure! Yet, if seamen who have seen the Thing be not
extremely out, ’tis a pretty wight! The head of it, say they, reaches
unto the clouds, and the appearance of it is frightful out of all
description.”
There came a sudden tap-tapping in the wainscoting. It was, no doubt,
but a rat; but, I must confess, I shrank with fear of it: whereupon my
brother clapped me boisterously on the shoulder, crying:
“Hallo, my land-captain! Did you think it was the ghosts from the
Haunted Island? I’ll show you something to cheer you up.”
Hereupon, clapping hand to pocket, he plucked forth a little box, or
casket. It was of gold, very cunningly wrought with the representation
of a galleon; and her hull was of rubies, her sails of pearls, her flag
and flowing pendants of emeralds and sapphires, and the sea of amethyst.
It was exquisite, and I said so; but my brother bade me read what was
written on a piece of parchment that he took from the box and laid open
before me.
“I know you like poesy,” said he, “read it. ’Tis better than a sonnet
to my lady’s shoe-latchet!”
The writing was old and small, and thus it was:
Go you not nigh the island, Captain;
Go you not close abroad:
For death would ride on every side,
And hell on your steerboard.
As I was sailing the sea, Captain,
Beyond the Mexique bay,
A mickle blast the good ship cast
A monstrous long south way.
Blind ran the ship as a blind antler;
And ever her beside,
There rode a drear and hooded fear,
Till we the isle espied.
We anchored off the island, Captain;
We lay off cables four:
I swear by bell, ’twas mickle well
We went not nearer shore.
It came in the midnight hour, Captain:
As God’s eye seeth me,
I never ween’d that such a fiend
In earth or hell might be.
Praise to the Mother of God, Captain,
Be praise and gramercy:
An image stood of the blest rood
Nailed to our mainmast tree.
Here the ballad was broken off. I asked what it was; but had never
answer. For, on a sudden, a summons loud and long sounded upon the
Manor door.
“Hallo! What’s this?” cried I. But my brother said nothing; only got
from his chair, and stepped to the casement; as I did also. He drew the
shutter; and we peered without upon the avenue. ’Twas a wintry and a
weird prospect: the moon shone bleak through the scantly falling snow,
which was flurried about in drifts of powder on the frozen ground. The
tall elms stood gauntly up, the smaller branches of them stirring in
sudden movements, like hands and fingers. But at the great door there
was a little fat man in the uniform of the captain of a King’s ship. He
stood panting, his face fiery red; and kept pummelling with his cane
upon the flagstones.
“Why, ’tis the captain of your ship!” said I. “’Tis Captain Skinton!”
But, muttering in his teeth, Dick turned and hurried from the room. I
followed, to find him at the end of the corridor warily withdrawing the
arras. We looked through.
The Captain addressed the serving-man who had opened to him, and was
beside himself with passion. He spoke in rapid and high-pitched tones,
and with robustious gesticulation. We caught a tail-end: “--that I see
Squire Clayton this night!”
“But he’s a-bed, your honour,” says Roger.
“Then wake him! wake him! wake him!” cried the little man; and,
stamping by misadventure a gouty foot, he broke into a paroxysm of
rage, just as the Squire, our father, came forth on the gallery of the
stairs.
“What’s this? What’s this?” says he, looking down in his nightcap.
“What’s this, sir?” cries Skinton, his voice rising shrill, “what’s
this, sir? Why, your son, sir ... a conspiracy, sir, a conspiracy
aboard my ship, _my_ ship, sir!”
“Roger,” says the Squire, “how came you to admit this neighing rascal?
Show him into the stable!”
Hereupon the Captain became perfectly furious; but the Squire returned
him word for word, as hot as he gave, so that there fell a very great
clamour. And, in the hurly-burly, Dick stole past them into the hall, I
following; and so (the door having been left open), out into the night.
We scoured down the avenue, crossed the road beyond, and, striking into
the countryside, cut crisply across the frozen fields to the cliff-top;
then down, helter-skelter, to the shore.
A great ship lay at an anchor close in, with her sails hauled up in
brails. It was the _Tiger_. Her captain’s boat lay beached above the
breakers; and her crew walked up and down, to keep them warm. My
brother stepped to the coxswain, “’Tis I, John,” said he, as he got his
breath; and, to the rest, he said: “Back to the ship, men! Our plans
are at a head! All’s ready! I’ll make all your fortunes, my jolly boys!”
“Ay, ay, sir! ay, ay!” But he bade them hush, and hasten with the boat.
Thereupon, turning to me, “Get you back to the Manor!” says he.
“No; I go with you,” said I.
He looked me up and down: “Tut, tut, d’ye know where we’re bound? For
the South Sea, and on none of the King’s business either!”
“You’re going to steal the ship!” said I; but they were shoving off the
boat, and, before ever he could answer, or I take thought, we found
ourselves aboard and rolling over the waves. Soon there fell a great
barking of dogs from the direction of the Manor; whereupon my brother
did urge the rowers to greater effort. A few moments after we reached
the ship.
We went aboard at the gang-way. There stood a big, black-bearded
fellow, who passed on board in the style of the Quartermaster. My
brother spoke a word in his ear, and the man nodded.
“All have joined, Ouvery?” asked Dick.
“Ay, but the master and Surgeon Burke be aboard. They went not ashore
with the rest.”
“’Sdeath!” said Dick with his teeth, “where are they, then?”
“The master’s in his cabin: Burke’s in the round-house.”
“Overboard with the master! Let him swim, the preaching swab! But we’ll
have need of Burke. Have up the men; I’ll speak to ’em. Haste, Ouvery!”
He made to the quarter-deck as he spoke, while the other went below.
Soon was heard the boatswain’s whistle, and the mariners began to come
up on deck. Meantime there came a splashing under the stern, and the
master swam presently forth within sight. Having gotten his breath,
he began to shout threats and imprecations at my brother. But Dick
laughed, and shook his finger at him, crying:
“Nay, nay, sweet sir, be not so prodigal with your strength! I warrant
you’ll need all of it anon!”
On this, with a last imprecation, the swimmer turned, and incontinently
made towards the shore. But the mariners were now gotten all up on
deck, and my brother prepared to speak to them.
But no speech was made by him. For a musket-shot rang out on the shore,
and some half-dozen men, led by the Captain and the Squire, came forth
on the cliff--the Captain shouting and gesticulating with the smoking
musket that he held; but our father stood like a man sore stricken, so
that it went to my heart to see him. I turned to my brother:
“Go you no further with this,” said I. “Return while yet you may.”
But he did not answer me; he stood staring to windward, and I saw his
face set hard. A big ship, flying the flag of St. George, had hove in
sight round a bend of the cliff.
Next moment he turned; and, bawling out, “In with the boat!” cried he,
“All hands make sail! Up anchor and away!”
There fell a great ado on this, as the mariners went to work to the
shrill piping whistle of the boatswain, and the word of command. Soon
the cable was hove in, while the seamen sang as they strained at
the capstan. Soon the ship began to move, stretching away under her
spritsail and topsails to the shore-breeze.
But the other vessel had hoisted up her topgallant sails, and came on
apace; and now, being but a cable’s length away, she shot off a gun.
“Come on, ye dogs!” cried Dick. “Fire away, and split!” And he hasted
to the poop, where the gunners worked, charging of the stern-chasers.
“Double shot ’em, and cripple her!” said he.
“Ay, ay, sir! ay, ay!” But now the pursuer fired again, and a
round-shot crashed into our round-house coach.
“_Fire!_” and, upon the word, the guns belched forth flame. The report
shook the ship, and a cloud of cannon-smoke rolled up like a scroll.
As it cleared, our men roared out with a great cheering; for we had hit
the King’s ship full in her fore rigging, split her spritsail, smashed
her foreyard, and handsomely mauled the shrouds. The foremast shook
with the brunt, and the topsail came clattering down.
Hereupon my brother fell to capering about like a silly schoolboy.
“Well done, master-gunner!” cried he, “well done, my brave! Give him
another cheer, my jolly boys! They’ll not take us, this bout!”