"Uncle Elijah isn't out of commission, then?"
"Uncle Elijah is made of better stuff than most of us younger fry.
He'll be up and around in a day or so; wanted to get up to-day and take
over his job, but I wouldn't let him. But how about you? Will the La
Guaira stop fit in with your longings?"
"Admirably. There is a revived copper mining prospect about to be
exploited near Aroa, and with your kind permission I'll quit you at La
Guaira and run over to Tucacas. There's a railway from that port to
Aroa, and I heard, while I was waiting for you in New Orleans, that
there might be an opening for an American engineer."
"Um," he grunted, without looking up, "so you're planning to desert,
are you?"
"If you call it desertion, yes. I know when I've had enough, Bonteck."
"I don't think you do," he said with a queer grimace. "But let that
stand over for a minute or so. Don't you want to be brought up to date
in the treasure-trove adventure? I should think you would."
"If there is anything remaining that I haven't seen and felt and
tasted," I returned.
"There is," he chuckled. "As the older novelists would remark, the half
has not been told. Item Number One is a small problem in arithmetic.
You helped me dig up Madeleine's ransom, and you counted the pieces,
didn't you?"
"I did."
"You'd be willing to go into court and swear that there were forty of
the gold bars; no more and no less; wouldn't you?"
"I should."
"And we dug them all out--all there were in that particular spot,
didn't we?"
"I thought we did."
"Good. So did I. Yet the fact remains that there are eighty-three gold
bars safely stowed away in the yacht's fore-hold; forty of one kind and
forty-three of another. How do you account for that?"
I laughed. "It simply means that Le Gros was more thorough than we
were. He found your planting, as well as that of the _Santa Lucia's_
crew."
"He did. But the double find was due to Goff's effort to gain time for
us, rather than to the fat bandit's thoroughness. When we left Goff
waiting for his recapture, the first thing he did was to heave the
chunk of coral out of the way so that there wouldn't be any landmark.
Then, when Le Gros and his men came, Goff pointed out first one place
and then another, until he had them digging all over the glade. That is
why they beat him so savagely; and it was after he was knocked out that
they stumbled upon both hoards."
"Both in the same place?" I asked.
"Goff says they were not. He was just coming back to consciousness when
they were starting to carry the stuff down to the beach. There were two
heaps of it. In his battered condition Goff didn't realize the truth;
he merely thought he was seeing double. Afterward, so he says, he got a
crazy notion in his head that the pirates hadn't found my gold at all,
and that it was up to him to find it. That was what he was trying to do
when you went after him."
"I know," I said; "Are there any more knots in the tangle?"
"Just one. When I went below last night to turn in, Billy Grisdale was
waiting for me with tears in his eyes; said he'd lost all his hopes of
heaven, and begged me to turn back to the island and let him have men
enough to go ashore and dig some more in the gold plantation--that we
were leaving Edie's dowry behind. I asked him what he meant, and he
told me. He and Edie had been the first to take fire when I told the
old story of the Spanish treasure ship, and they had gone about looking
for landmarks and digging haphazard in one place and another."
"And, of course, they stumbled upon the chunk of coral, rolled it away,
and dug under it," I filled in, recalling instantly what Billy had said
to me about buried treasure and the ownership thereof on the night of
Ingerson's attempted suicide.
"You've said it. Naturally, it was my planting that they uncovered--not
the Spaniards', but never having so much as heard of my earlier visit
to the island, there was nothing to make them suspect that it was not
the _Santa Lucia_ hoard that they had unearthed. Their first impulse
was to run back to camp and shout the good news; but the cannier second
thought prevailed. They reburied the stuff in the hole they had made,
marked the place as well as they could--but not with the chunk of coral
they had rolled aside,--and came away and left it, meaning to part with
their secret only when a rescue ship should come along."
"What did you tell Billy?"
He grinned. "I took him into the fore-hold and showed him the pile of
gold bars. As you would imagine, he was paralyzed when he counted and
found there were eighty-three of them. 'There were forty-three--I'm
sure there were only forty-three,' he kept saying over and over."
"Wait a minute," I interposed; "you are going too fast for me. Are
you asking me to believe that it was only by chance that they rolled
the piece of coral over to the exact spot where, we may suppose, it
originally stood--marking the place of the _Santa Lucia_ burial?"
"Chance and nothing else--excepting, perhaps, it may have rolled more
easily that way than any other. It was Goff and I who moved it in the
first place, you remember, when we took it to mark our gold grave."
"Now we may come back to Billy," I said. "What more did you tell him?"
"What could I tell him, save to hint that the Spaniards might have
split their treasure and buried it in two places?--that, and to josh
him a bit for having stopped too soon in his digging venture?"
"Then you told him that the remaining forty pieces belong to Madeleine?"
"I did; I have told them all. She found it, and it is hers. More than
that, I have taken Jack Grey into my confidence in the matter of
Barclay's shortage in his guardian accounts, and he will see to it that
the Vancourt trust fund is made whole again."
"But, see here," I protested; "that is _your_ quarter million that
Billy and Edie are making off with!"
He laughed boyishly.
"I'm robbed," he declared; "Held up and cleaned out in the house of my
friends. I couldn't claim the stuff if I wanted to--without giving the
whole snap away. But I don't mean to claim it. It is going to be put
right where it will do the most good, Dick--which it wasn't going to
be, if my romantic plot had worked out as it was planned. If Madeleine
had found _my_ money, I should never have been able to look her
straight in the eyes again--never in this world. You know I shouldn't.
That was the weak detail I told you about. But what she did find is her
own, her very own, you see; and mine goes to the two kiddies. Billy's
father couldn't stake him, neither now nor two or three years hence,
when these two babies will take things into their own hands and get
married, money or no money. And with another of her girls due to marry
a poor man, Mrs. Van Tromp would be in despair."
"Another of her girls--you mean Beatrice?" I asked, dry-lipped.
"Sure thing. Jerry's a pauper; or if he isn't quite that now, he will
be when Major Terwilliger's last will and testament is read."
"But Conetta!" I gasped. "He is promised to her, Bonteck."
"Is he?" he said; and that is all he did say.
"Isn't he?" I demanded.
"How should I know? You'd better go and ask him or her--or both of
them."
For a flitting instant I found myself desperate enough to do that very
thing; but I, too, had suffered my sea change. Curiously enough the
hotheaded impulse died within me before I could rise from my seat on
the three-legged stool.
"Well, why don't you?" Van Dyck inquired satirically, meaning, I
supposed, why didn't I go and make a fool of myself to the two people
in question. Then: "What has come over you, Richard? Have you lost
all of that fiery impetuosity that used to make you the worry of your
friends, and put the fear of God into your enemies?"
It wasn't worth while to answer the gibe. I had other and better things
to think of just then. Mellowing things.
"I know now why you dragged me in on this winter cruise, Bonteck," I
said, humbly enough. "In the goodness of your heart you thought Conetta
and I might be able to bridge the three-year gap and come together
again. It was a kindly thought, and I shall always remember it. It
wasn't your fault that the chance came too late. Don't you want me to
take your trick here and let you go down to the others? True, Ingerson
was at the bridge table when I came through, but he may not stay
there."
"Ingerson is out of it," he said shortly. "He leaves us at La Guaira,
to take the regular steamer for Havana and home."
"Nevertheless, my offer holds good. Give me the course and I'll relieve
you."
"Later on, perhaps; the night is yet young. Just now, you'll be wanting
to get Conetta and Jerry together so you can fire that question of
yours at them. Better toddle along and have it over with, while the
thing is fresh in your mind."
I turned to go, but at the door of the chart-room I paused to give him
his due.
"You are a kindly sort of villain, after all, Bonteck," I said. "But
how about the little experiment in the humanities that was at the
bottom of all these things that have happened to us? Did it turn out as
you expected it would? Are we worse than you feared--or better than you
hoped?"
"Neither, Dick," he returned quite soberly. "We are all pretty much the
same, I guess; brothers and sisters under the skin; just men and women
'of like passions'. I think I've known it as well as I needed to, all
along, but it suited my humor to pose as a--a----"
"As a pragmatic ass," I snorted, helping him out. "Whenever you are
tempted to bray again----"
"I'll just think back a few lines and remember this little Caribbean
slip-up," he laughed. "But don't let me keep you. I know you are
perishing to go and stick pins into poor old Jerry and Conetta."
That final remark of his was as far as possible from the truth; so far,
indeed, that, upon leaving the bridge, I descended to the main deck by
way of the forward ladder for the express purpose of keeping out of
the way of the group under the awning on the after-deck lounge.
Since the _Andromeda_ was now quite short-handed, the forward deck
was deserted by all save a single man at the bow. I crossed to the
port rail and stood for a time looking out upon the starlit sea and
listening to the sibilant song of the yacht's sharp cutwater as it
sheared its way through the gently heaving seas.
I had not been talking merely for effect in telling Bonteck that I
should leave the yacht at La Guaira. On all accounts it seemed only the
just and decent thing to do. Now that I came to think of it soberly, it
seemed quite possible that my presence in the yacht party might have
been the provoking cause of Jerry Dupuyster's disloyalty, or apparent
disloyalty, to Conetta. He knew that we had once been engaged, and
while there had been no more than fellow-passenger intimacy on the
cruise, we had been together more or less on the island.
Though it was removed by the better part of the length of the ship, the
tinny tinkle of Billy's mandolin was still audible, and presently there
were voices joining in a rollicking college song; John Grey's clear
tenor, Alicia Van Tromp's rich contralto, and even the professor's
bass. It seemed incredible that the reaction from our late privations
could have swept us all so swiftly back to the ordinary and the
commonplace; and yet the fact remained: a fact demonstrating beyond all
question the irresistible impulse in the normal human being to revert
quickly to the usual and the accustomed.
Perhaps it was the reflective mood to which this philosophizing vein
led that made me insensible of Conetta's approach. At any rate, I had
no warning; I was still supposing that she was with the others on the
after-deck when I felt her touch on my arm.
"You?" I said.
"Yes, me," she admitted, with the cheerful disregard for grammar which
usually marked her flippant moods. "What are you doing up here, all by
yourself?"
"What should I be doing? But if you really want to know, I'm gazing out
toward the country where I'm likely to spend the next few years of my
life--Venezuela."
"Yes," she said quite calmly. "I've just been up on the bridge with
Bonteck. He told me you were going to bury yourself again in the South
American wilds." Then, with what seemed to be a tinge of mocking
malice: "Is it the Castilian princess?--but no; you told me she is
married, didn't you?"
"No," I returned crabbedly; "it's you, this time, Conetta. I don't
want to be on the same side of the earth with you when you marry Jerry
Dupuyster."
She laughed as though I had said something humorous. "Jerry!" she
scoffed. "Where are your eyes, Dickie Preble? Don't you see that I
haven't the littlest chance in the world in that quarter? I should
think you might."
"That is all right," I retorted. "I'll have a thing or two to say to
Jerry before I quit this neat little ship at La Guaira!"
"Please don't!" she pleaded.
"Don't tell Jerry where to head in, you mean?"
"No; I didn't mean that. I mean please don't slip back, like all the
rest of us have. Don't you know you were awfully dear while we were on
the island? There were times--times when you were so patient and good
with Aunt Mehitable--when I could have hugged you."
"Humph! I wonder what Jerry would have said to that?"
"Can't we leave Jerry out of it, just for a few minutes? But you _were_
good, you know, and you were really making me begin to believe that
your horrible temper, the temper that once made us both pay such a
frightful price, was your servant instead of your master."
"Temper?" I said, fairly aghast at this bald accusation.
"Yes, temper. Have you been like everybody else--unable to recognize
your own dearest failing? Don't you know that even as a little boy they
used to say of you that you'd rather fight than eat? Are all red-headed
men like that?"
"Never mind the other red-headed men," I returned. "What price did my
temper make us pay?--and when?"
"I wonder if you went through it all without knowing--without
realizing?" she said musingly. "Do you remember one night when you were
taking Aunt Mehitable and me to the theater and some lobby lounger made
a remark that you didn't like?"
"Yes, I remember it. I would have killed the beast if they hadn't
pulled me off him. That remark was made about you, Conetta."
"I know. But you--you scandalized poor Aunt Mehitable. She began to
say, right then, that I could never hope to have a happy married life
with a man who had such an ungovernable temper. Wasn't it more or less
true, Dick?"
Back of the island period and its tremendous revelations I should
probably have said that it wasn't true. But now I only asked for better
information.
"Once upon a time your aunt made two wills; made one, and revoked it
with another within a week. Was that done to find out how much I would
stand for?"
"I--I'm afraid it was." She admitted it reluctantly.
"Since it is all dead and buried long ago, you might tell me a little
more about it. What she said to me was that she had heard of the loss
of my property, and that she thought it was only fair to tell me that,
under the terms of her will, you wouldn't inherit anything but a small
legacy. She added that, of course, under such conditions our marriage
was out of the question; that the only thing for me to do was to set
you free."
"What did you say to her?"
"I don't remember. I probably raved like a maniac."
"You did. Miss Stebbins, the secretary, was in the library alcove, and
she took short-hand notes. It was terrible, Dick. You must have been
quite mad to say such things as you said to Aunt Mehitable."
"I was mad. Look at it from my side for a moment, if you can. I had
just heard of the smash in the Western mines, and right upon the heels
of that I was calmly asked to give you up. Did she show you the
short-hand notes?"
"She did, after you had vanished without saying a word to me or even
writing a line to tell me what had become of you. She did it to prove
what she had said many times before--that your ferocious temper would
make it impossible for any peaceable person to live with you."
"And you--what did you do?"
"What could I do? I had to go on living; one has to do that in any
case. And after a time----"
"After a time, Jerry stepped in. I'm not blaming anybody, Conetta,
dear. If Jerry would only break away from Beatrice Van Tromp and treat
you as he ought to treat the woman he is going to marry, I wouldn't say
a word."
She turned away, and for the length of time that it took the
_Andromeda_ to sheer through three of the long Caribbean swells she
was silent. Then, as if she were speaking to the wide expanse of sea
and starry sky: "It would be a tragedy if Jerry should break away from
Beatrice. They have been engaged for ever and ever so long."
"What!" I exclaimed. "And you've known it all the time?"
"I think you are the only one who hasn't known it."
"But you said you and Jerry----"
"No," she interrupted coolly, "I didn't say it. I merely let you go on
believing what you seemed to want to believe."
"But you did say that Jerry had asked you."
"That was a long time ago; and I think he did it only because his uncle
told him to."
Slowly the incredible thing battered its way into my brain. Conetta
was free; free, and she hadn't been any better able to forget than I
had. I slipped an arm around her.
"It's an awful gap--three years; could you--do you suppose we could
bridge it--and let Aunt Mehitable make another will, if she wants to?"
Just then, Bonteck, or whoever had the wheel, must have let the
_Andromeda_ fall off a bit. There was a plunge, a splash, and the spray
of the curling bow wave showered us both. She let me wipe her face with
my handkerchief, and then put it up to be kissed.
"There has never been any gap, Dick, dear," she said softly.
"I--I guess I'm just a silly little one-love fool. I've just been
waiting--and waiting ... and Aunt Mehitable ... she's sorry, dear;
she's been sorry ever since that dreadful day three years ago when she
made you swear at her and call her a mercenary old harridan...."
Time being the merest abstraction in such circumstances, it might have
been either minutes or hours after this that the tubular chime which
answered for a ship's bell on the _Andromeda_ began to strike. Conetta
counted, and as the last note was dying away she chanted happily:
"Eight bells; the forward light is shining bright, and all's well! Kiss
me again, Dickie, dear, and we'll go and find Aunt Mehitable--if she
hasn't gone to bed."
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes: