A GREAT UNDERTAKING.
As Archie and I returned along the quay from the custom house, to regain
our boat, I noticed standing upon the edge of the dock the solitary but
impressive figure of an Arab.
He was fully six feet tall and splendidly formed. His dirty white
burnous was wrapped around him in a way to emphasize the dignity of his
pose, and his handsome countenance was calm and impassive. From beneath
the ample folds of a black and yellow turban two wide dark eyes were set
on a point of vision across the bay, and following his gaze I saw that
it was directed toward the _Seagull_ lying at her anchorage. These eyes,
accustomed to the distances of the desert, might be stronger than my
own, yet I myself found that I could discern dark forms moving about
upon our deck, and one in especial—was it the Professor?—was leaning
quietly over the side nearest the quay.
The Arab did not notice Archie or me, so I had a chance to examine him
critically. He was not old—perhaps thirty-five—and his unshaven face was
a light tan in color. As we rowed out to the ship his eyes at last fell
upon us, and I thought that he watched us intently until we were well
aboard. From the deck I could still see his stalwart, motionless figure
standing erect in the same position; and perhaps the Professor saw him,
too, for he came toward me with an uneasy expression upon his face and
requested another interview with my father, Uncle Naboth, and myself.
I summoned Ned Britton, Archie, and Joe, as well, and presently we all
assembled in my father’s cabin.
“I have been thinking over this proposal,” began Van Dorn, “and have
concluded that my first offer was not liberal enough, in the
circumstances. To be frank with you,” his little, ferret eyes were
anything but frank, just then, “the treasure is useless to me without
your assistance in obtaining and transporting it to a place of safety.
So I am willing to meet your views in the matter of a division of the
spoils.”
We regarded him silently, and after a moment he added: “What do you
think would be just, or satisfactory?”
My uncle answered. He was an experienced trader.
“According to your own story, sir,” said he, “you are not the original
discoverer of this treasure. Professor Lovelace worked several years in
tracing it, and finally succeeded because he had found an obscure
diagram engraved on the ruined walls of a temple. He hired you to assist
him. Tell us, then, what share of the plunder did he promise you?”
The Professor hesitated, but thinking to deceive us, though his manner
assured us he was lying, he said boldly:
“I was to have one-half. But of course after Lovelace was murdered the
whole belonged to me.”
“Was there any compact to that effect?” I asked.
“Not exactly. But it is reasonable and just, is it not?”
“Had Lovelace no heirs—no family?”
“None whatever.”
Said Uncle Naboth, with his usual deliberation:
“If you were to receive one-half the treasure from Lovelace, in return
for your assistance, we will make the same contract with you in return
for ours. Lovelace seemed to think it was worth that much, and we will
abide by his judgment.”
Van Dorn turned red. There was no escape from the toils he had cast
about himself by his foolish statement. He looked thoughtfully out of
the window, and following his gaze I saw the solitary Arab still
standing on the quay with his face set in our direction.
A scarcely perceptible tremor seemed to pass over the Professor’s slight
frame. He turned to us with a new animation in his face.
“Professor Lovelace reserved for himself the collection of papyrus
rolls,” said he, in a brisk tone. “I will do the same. These writings
would be of no value to you, in any event. All of the jewels, ornaments,
or other treasure than the papyri, I will agree to divide with you
equally.”
“Very good,” said Uncle Naboth, with a nod. “It is our agreement. Write
it down, Sam, and all these witnesses shall sign the document.”
I brought paper and pens and began to draw up the agreement. Presently I
paused.
“In case of your death, Professor, I suppose you are willing all the
treasure should belong to us, since that was your own claim when
Lovelace died?”
He grew a little pale as he answered: “Do you want to put that in the
paper?”
“Yes, if you please.”
“Will you agree, on your part, to protect me from harm in all possible
ways, to guard my life as completely as you do your own lives?”
“Certainly.”
“Then include it in the contract. It would be a terrible thing to die
just when all this treasure is fairly in my grasp; but if I lose my life
in the venture there is no one to inherit my possessions.”
As I resumed my writing Uncle Naboth remarked:
“We’ll look after you, sir, never fear. Sam only means to cover any
possible mishaps, and I guess he’s right. But we’ll be satisfied with a
fair division, and intend to do our duty by you if it costs us our lives
to protect you.”
When the contract was ready the Professor signed it without a word of
protest, and after the witnesses had attached their signatures the
little man went on deck and left us alone.
“He means treachery,” remarked my father, coolly.
Uncle nodded.
“Quite possible, Dick; but it will be our business to watch him. His
story is true, because he has the evidence to prove it, and I’ve no
doubt he’ll lead us straight to the treasure. But what his game is
afterwards, I can’t imagine.”
After that we sat silent for a time.
“Uncle,” said I, happening to think of the thing, “Archie wants to go
along with us.”
Mr. Perkins scratched his head reflectively.
“What share does he want?” he asked.
I turned to Archie for the reply.
“If I’m any help to you, you can give me whatever you please,” said the
boy. “I want to see the fun, mostly; but I’ll not refuse any reward I’m
able to earn.”
“That’s fair and square,” said Uncle Naboth. “You’re welcome to come
along.”
“Now, then,” proclaimed my father, “we’ve got to talk to the men. That’s
your job, Sam—you’ve got the gift of palaver. The enterprise is
irreg’lar an’ some dangerous, an’ our lads must be told jest what
they’re expected to do.”
We went on deck and piped all hands aft for a conference.
As clearly as I was able I related to the crew the story Van Dorn had
told us, and his proposal to us to assist him in getting the treasure.
The only points I concealed were the location of the hoard and its
probable value.
“If you will join us in this adventure,” I added, “we promise every man
three times his regular pay, and in case we get the treasure one-tenth
of our share also be divided equally among you. We don’t expect much
trouble, yet there may be a scrimmage or so with the Arabs before we get
done. Any of you who fear this danger or don’t like the job we’ve
undertaken, will be left at Port Said until we return, and we shall
think none the worse of those men, who will simply forfeit their prize
money. Now, lads, what do you say?”
There wasn’t a dissenting voice among them. They were Americans. Many
had sailed with us before, and all were picked men who had proved
themselves honest and trustworthy. My father had indeed chosen his crew
with care and judgment, and I think we were not much surprised that from
Ned Britton down to the meanest sailor all were eager to undertake the
venture.
We cleared the port, sailed down to Port Said, and paid our fee to be
passed through the Suez Canal to the Gulf of Arabia—no insignificant
sum, by the way, but an incidental expense of the enterprise. The
Professor had sadly informed us that he had no ready money to meet any
of these emergencies; therefore we undertook to pay all expenses.
Our last view of the quay at Alexandria showed the strange Arab still at
his post, motionless and staring calmly after us. I noticed that Van
Dorn heaved a sigh of relief when we drew away from the harbor and the
solitary watcher had faded slowly from our sight.
We were obliged to lie for four days at Port Said before our turn came
to enter the canal, for several big liners of the East India Company and
many packets of many nations were before us. Having our own engines we
did not require a tug, and after a seemingly interminable period,
although the distance is only one hundred miles, we emerged from the
canal at Suez and Port Ibrahim and found the broad waters of the Red Sea
lying before us.
Heading southward we found fair breezes that wafted us at a good speed
along the two hundred and fifty miles of barren coast between Suez and
Koser. The Arabian desert, bleak and covered in places with bare
mountains, was in sight on our right all the way, and the few small
villages we passed did not seem inviting.
At length, on the evening of the 12th of February, we anchored in the
little harbor of Koser, and although the natives came flocking around us
in their miserable fishing boats, offering fruit for sale and doubtless
wondering what chance had led so strange and trim a craft as the
_Seagull_ to their forsaken port, we made no attempt to land or
communicate with them until the next morning.