THE WALDO'S PASSENGER.
"Donner _und blitz_!" exclaimed Herr Schlager, when he realized that the
wet and sandy bag on the counter before him contained money, for he was
too familiar with the chink of gold to mistake the sound. _"Was haben
sie, hier, Leopold?"_
"Money, gold, specie, coin, _geld_," replied the boatman, hardly less
excited than his Teutonic uncle.
"So mooch golt! Der bag is wet mit der sand, and covered mit salt water!
Himmel! where so much money haf you found, Leopold?"
"Put it in the safe, uncle, and we will talk about it afterwards," added
the young man. "I haven't opened this bag, and I don't want it opened."
"No? What for you want him not to be open?"
"It is not mine."
"Not your money? Dat is bad!"
"I wish it were mine, certainly, uncle; but, as it is not, I mean to
take good care of it for the owner."
"Den I sall seal up der bag for you," replied the watch-maker, taking a
piece of red tape from one of his drawers, which he wound tightly over
the original string of the bag.
Then, lighting the spirit-lamp which he used with his blow-pipe, he
melted a large mass of sealing-wax upon the knot of the red tape, and
pressed upon it the great seal hanging from his watch-chain. Herr
Schlager was a simple-minded man, and doubtless he believed that the
seal was a perfect protection to the contents of the bag. Possibly he
thought that no mortal man would dare to "cut the red-tape." Leopold was
less superstitious in regard to the sanctity of a seal; and he relied
more upon the protective power of the iron safe than upon that of the
tape or seal. His uncle lodged in a little room in the rear of his shop
for the better security of his goods; and the young man felt that the
treasure would be safe in the watch-maker's strong-box. Herr Schlager
dropped the bag into one of the drawers of the safe.
"Now, where you was get him?" demanded the Teuton, as he closed the iron
door.
"I dug it out of the sand on the beach at High Rock, uncle," replied
Leopold.
"Den it pelongs to you, mine poy."
"Not at all, uncle; at least, not yet a while."
Leopold told the whole story, from Harvey Barth's diary down to date, as
briefly as he could.
"If I don't find any owner, I suppose the money belongs to me," he
added.
"Himmel! Yes!" answered the watch-maker.
"Now, uncle, don't you let anybody, not even my father, have the bag
without my consent."
"No, Leopold; nobody shall touch him," added Herr Schlager, as he locked
the door of the safe, and put the key in his pocket.
The money-digger was satisfied that his uncle would be faithful to the
letter of his promise; and he hastened back to the hotel, to attend to
his usual duties.
But the malignant little Mr. Redmond had already told the story of the
hidden treasure, so far as he new it, to an audience in the office of
the Sea Cliff House, which included the landlord. Of course the
narrative was full of interest; and in the course of half an hour it was
travelling from mouth to mouth up the main street of Rockhaven as
rapidly as though it had been written out, and sent by express. When the
finder of the treasure entered the hotel office, the subject was still
under discussion.
"Leopold wouldn't do the fair thing, and divy with Stumpy and me," said
the little fop, when he had finished his story. "If he had, I would have
kept the whole thing secret as he wished me to do."
"Why should he share the money with you, Charley?" demanded Mr.
Hamilton.
"Because I was in at the death, and that's the way to do the thing when
any money is found. Leopold was mean about it."
"Perhaps he was; but my boy hasn't the reputation of being mean," added
the landlord.
"I don't think Charley has any claim," said Mr. Redmond, senior, the
father of the _other_ Mr. Redmond, "however it may be with Stumpy."
"Here he is, to speak for himself," added Mr. Hamilton, as Leopold
entered the room. "They say you are mean because you would not divide
the money with Charley. How is that, my boy?"
"I certainly would not divide with him, or with anybody, for that
matter," replied the skipper of the Rosabel. "I found the money, all
alone by myself, on the night before the Orion arrived. I left it where
it was, because I did not know what to do with it," replied Leopold.
"Where is it now?" asked the landlord.
"In my uncle's safe. I have not opened the bag, and uncle Leopold sealed
it up. I told him not to let anybody touch it without my consent."
"I think that is the safest place for it," said Mr. Bennington. "Then it
appears that Miss Liverage was not crazy, after all."
"She was right in every respect. If she could have told me where to look
for the gold, I should have found it," replied Leopold.
"But how happened you to find it?" asked Mr. Hamilton.
"I didn't happen to find it, sir. I went right to the place where it
was, and dug it up, after I had read the directions in Harvey Barth's
diary."
"But where did you get the diary, Leopold?" inquired the landlord.
"I found it in the chimney, when the old house was pulled down."
"You didn't say anything about it," added Mr. Bennington, rather
reproachfully.
"You laughed at me, father, after Miss Liverage had gone, and I thought
I wouldn't say anything more until I found out whether Miss Liverage was
crazy or not. Then, when I read the diary, I didn't know but Harvey
Barth might have been crazy when he wrote it, for I couldn't find any
such rock as he mentioned till I went down to High Rock in a
thunder-storm. I am willing to tell all I know about it; but it's rather
a long story."
"And dinner is nearly ready," added the landlord, glancing at the clock.
"What is it? We want to know about it," said Belle Peterson, rushing
into the office, followed by Rosabel.
The story had been carried to the parlor by Mr. Redmond, junior, who had
so little confidence in the future intentions of Leopold, that he had
revealed the secret from motives of revenge.
"We will hear the story after dinner," said Mr. Hamilton.
"We want to hear it, too," interposed Miss Belle.
"Yes father," added Rosabel; "and all the ladies in the parlor want to
hear it."
"Then Leopold shall tell it in the parlor, if he is willing."
"I'm willing, sir," replied Leopold. "All I have to say about the money
now is, that I believe it belongs to somebody--to the heirs of the man
who buried it in the sand; and, as I told Stumpy and Mr. Redmond, I
intend to find those heirs, if I can."
"That's right, Leopold," exclaimed Mr. Hamilton, patting the boatman's
shoulder. "Be honest before you are generous."
Leopold and his father went to the dining-room, to prepare for their
duties there. The landlord did not think as much as usual at this time
about his chowder, chicken, and roast beef. The time was rapidly
approaching when the interest on the mortgage note would be due. His New
York guests had not paid their bills in whole or in part, and he was
still very short of funds. The vision of this twelve hundred dollars in
gold which his son had dug up from the sands of the sea, was intensely
exciting to him. The gold transmuted into currency, when a dollar of the
one was worth more than two of the other, would enable him to pay his
interest and discharge the mortgage upon his furniture. He wanted the
money, and he was not particularly pleased with Leopold's idea of
finding, at some remote period, the heirs of the man who had buried it.
However, Mr. Bennington was an honest man; and further consideration of
the subject would undoubtedly convince him that his son was exactly
right and nobly just.
The dinner at the Sea Cliff House was as good, though no better than
usual; but the guests, after the abundance of exercise during the
forenoon, were in better condition to enjoy it. They did enjoy it; and
they talked about the hidden treasure of High Rock while they did so.
While they were eating and talking, and the landlord and his son were
waiting upon them, the story of the bag of gold was travelling up the
main street of the village, and, following the angles and bifurcations
of the highways, was penetrating to the remotest corner of the town.
Among other places, it went to the Island House, and Ethan Wormbury was
utterly dismayed when he had listened to it. Though it was almost
dinner-time, he left the few guests in his house to wait upon
themselves, and hastened over to his father's house, where he found that
the astounding news had preceded him. Squire Moses was as much
disconcerted and cast down as his son had been.
"Twelve hundred dollars in gold!" exclaimed the old man, wiping the
perspiration from his bald head.
"Of course Bennington will be able to pay his interest money now," added
Ethan.
"I suppose so," groaned the squire. "But where on earth did the money
come from? Who buried it in the sand?"
"One of the men that was lost on the Waldo."
"Who was he?"
"I don't know," replied Ethan, for not many of the particulars in regard
to the hidden treasure had yet been circulated. "But they say Stumpy was
with young Bennington when he found the money."
"What! Stumpy! With him! Then they will divide it between them!"
exclaimed Squire Moses; and the amiable old gentleman did not seem to
rejoice at this possible accession of fortune on the part of his
grandson.
"I don't know about that," said Ethan, who was certainly not less
troubled than his worthy patriarch.
"But they ought not to touch the money--none of them. It belongs to the
heirs of the man that was drowned. It ain't no better'n stealing to keep
the gold," continued Squire Moses, with an overflow of honest
indignation.
"That's so," added Ethan, sharing the virtuous sentiments of his father.
"Of course the money belongs to somebody, if the man that buried it is
dead. But I want to know more about it; and I'm going down to see
Stumpy."
"I'll go with you, Ethan," said the squire; and together they left the
house.
"If they should keep the money, and divide it, Joel's widow would pay
off the mortgage on the house, and Bennington would settle up his
interest money on the first of July, I suppose," mused Ethan aloud, as
they walked along the street.
The landlord of the Island House appeared to be disposed to look the
facts squarely in the face, however disagreeable they might be. If the
money was divided, he could not expect to become the landlord of the new
hotel, which was the height of his ambition.
"I don't know," replied Squire Moses. "I don't go near Bennington now; I
don't say anything to him about the interest money; I don't want to
disturb him, or to set him a thinking. He not only promises to pay the
interest, but he promises to pay it on the first day of July. If he
don't do it at the right time, I shall foreclose. I believe the man is
ruined now; and the longer I wait, the more money I shall lose. He
ought to know that such a big hotel, furnished as extravagantly as the
new house, would not pay in such a place as Rockhaven. He can never
recover himself in the world."
"But, father, even if the boys don't divide the gold, Bennington's
customers will pay him enough to enable him to settle the interest,"
suggested Ethan, whose hopes were somewhat inflated by the reasoning of
his father.
"That may be; but Bennington owes everybody in town, and his expenses
for keeping those New Yorkers in his house are enough to swamp him. I
don't believe he'll think of the interest at all, he's so busy, till
after it is too late. He owes Jones three hundred dollars of borrowed
money, which Jones lent him till the first of July, when he is to pay
the mortgage on his house. I've already told Jones I couldn't wait a
single day for my money; and he will have to make Bennington pay. Then I
have hinted to Green, the market-man, Butler, the grocer, and others
Bennington owes, that they had better look out and get their pay before
the first of July. They are after him now, and he promises to pay them
all just as soon as these New York folks settle for their board. If
Bennington ain't short on the first of July, I'll lose my guess," said
the old man; and he believed that he had made things intensely hot for
his creditor. "I can count up over a thousand dollars he has promised to
pay by the first of July."
In justice to the landlord of the Sea Cliff House, it should be said
that Squire Moses had overstated the facts, for Mr. Bennington had not
_promised_ to pay, but had merely expressed his hope and belief that he
should be able to do so in the month of July. He actually owed, besides
his interest, about seven hundred dollars; and his debts troubled him
sorely. He could only hope that his creditors would wait a few weeks,
though even now they harassed him every day of his life.
Squire Moses and Ethan entered the cottage of Joel's widow, and found
the family at dinner. They did not knock at the door, or stand upon any
ceremony.
"Stumpy, what's this story about the money found on the beach?" demanded
Squire Moses, as though he felt that he had a right to know.
Now, half a dozen persons had already spoken to Stumpy about the hidden
treasure, and he was aware the subject was no longer a secret.
"Leopold found a bag of gold buried on the beach," replied Stumpy; and
without reserve, he proceeded to tell all he knew about the treasure.
"And you and he are going to divide this money between you!" exclaimed
Squire Moses, jumping at once to the point, as soon as Stumpy had told
the story.
"Who says we are?" asked Stumpy, indignantly.
"That is what they say," added Ethan, who had, possibly, heard such a
suggestion, as the narrative became distorted in its passage along the
main street.
"I want to tell you, Susan Wormbury," continued Squire Moses, addressing
himself to "Joel's widow," as he and Ethan usually called her,--"I want
to tell you, Susan Wormbury, that I don't believe this boy has been
brought up right. You ought to have brought him up to be honest."
"Like his grandfather!" exclaimed Stumpy, sullenly.
"Yes, like your grandfather," added the squire, severely. "No man can
say that Moses Wormbury ever stole a cent from anybody."
This remark evidently indicated the boundary line of the squire's
homestead.
"Done just the same thing," muttered Stumpy.
"Why, father, Stumpy is a good boy," pleaded Mrs. Wormbury.
"If he takes any of this money, it will be just the same as stealing
it," added the squire, projecting the remark savagely at the trembling
widow of his lost son.
"Who is going to take any of it?" demanded Stumpy, springing to his
feet, with his mouth full of fried fish.
"You! you and Bennington's son are going to divide it between you!"
"Its no such thing," protested Stumpy. "I wish we were, though."
"Do you say you are not?"
"I do say so! Leopold thinks the money belongs to the heirs of the man
who buried it on the beach; and he is going to try to find them."
"That alters the case," replied the squire, more mildly. "I hope the
man's heirs will get the money for it belongs to them."
"I hope everybody will get what belongs to him," said Stumpy; but the
remark was too indefinite to be appreciated by his amiable grandfather.
"You have no right to a dollar of this money, Stumpy; and if you touch
it, I want you to understand that it will be stealing."
"I have nothing to do with the money. Le Bennington found it, and he
knows what to do with it. If he chooses to give me some of it, I will
take it fast enough."
Squire Moses and Ethan were both satisfied, so far as Stumpy was
concerned; and they were rejoiced to know that Leopold intended to keep
the gold until he could find the heirs of the man who had committed it
to the sand.
"Susan," said Squire Moses, as he turned to depart, "I told you that you
might stay in this house till the first of August; and so you may; but I
am going to foreclose the mortgage right off, so that I can get legal
possession sooner. It won't make any difference to you."
The old miser did not wait to hear any reply to this announcement; but
the tears dropped from the widow's eyes as the door closed upon the hard
old man. The squire and Ethan walked down to the main street, talking
with every one they met about the treasure, protesting that it ought to
be kept for the heirs of the rightful owner, and manufacturing public
sentiment which should compel the landlord of the Sea Cliff House and
his son to pursue this course. It is true that the people of Rockhaven
were very much surprised to hear Squire Moses and his son preaching such
a doctrine; but they were willing to accept it, for it seemed to be just
and right that the heirs should have what plainly belonged to them.
Unknown to them, and not yet with the entire approbation of his father,
Leopold was their ally in directing public sentiment. After dinner, the
parlor of the Sea Cliff House was filled by the New Yorkers and others
who desired to hear the narrative of the finding of the hidden treasure.
Leopold, in his best clothes, washed, dressed, and combed for a great
occasion, appeared at the door of the parlor with Harvey Barth's diary
in his hand. Stumpy, who had come over to see him in regard to the
exciting topic, followed him, and took a back seat in one corner of the
room. The money-digger was not a little abashed when he saw so many
pairs of eyes directed towards him; but he commenced his story, and soon
recovered his self-possession. He began with the wreck of the Waldo, for
the New Yorkers knew little or nothing of this exciting event. He then
came to the appearance of Harvey Barth at the Cliff House, and detailed
all the incidents relating to the diary, the visit of Miss Sarah
Liverage, and the finding of the journal when the chimney was pulled
down.
Leopold stated he had read only those portions of the diary which
related to the treasure; and then he read the description from the book
of the burying of the gold in the thunder and lightning. He had dug the
beach all over, under the instruction of the nurse; and he had been
unable to find the bag even after he read the journal, until he went
down to High Rock in a thunder shower. Then, for the first time, he
could distinguish Coffin Rock. Thus guided, he had found the treasure.
Leopold then gave his views in regard to the ownership of the gold, and
declared that he intended to keep the money in his uncle's safe till he
had seen the owners of the Waldo, and they had sent to Havana. This
statement to the astonishment and confusion of the money-digger, was
followed by hearty applause, in which even the ladies joined. Public
sentiment in the parlor earnestly indorsed his views.
"Leopold reads very well," said Mr. Hamilton; "and as we desire to rest
for an hour or two, I suggest that he read the diary to us from the time
the Waldo left Havana."
This suggestion was warmly applauded, and verbally seconded by half a
dozen of the party. Leopold consented under this pressure, and read for
a full hour, till he came to the afternoon of the day on which the brig
was lost; in a word, till he came to what Harvey Barth had just written
when Wallbridge came to the galley to light his pipe, as recorded in the
first chapter of this story. The steward did not believe the passenger's
name was Wallbridge, as written on the Waldo's papers. He did not see
what he had changed his name for, and hoped he hadn't done anything
wrong.
"'He gave his name as J. Wallbridge,' Leopold read from the diary; 'but
that was not the name I found on the paper in his state-room, when I
made up his bed on the day we sailed from Havana, though the initials
were the same. Then he lent me his Bible to read one day, and this other
name was written on it in forty places, wherever there was any blank
paper. I wanted to borrow the Bible again, but he would not lend it to
me; and I thought he remembered about his name being written in it so
many times. I saw the same name stamped on a white shirt of his, which
he hung up to air on deck to-day. The name was not J. Wallbridge either;
it was Joel Wormbury.'"
"My father!" shouted Stumpy, springing to his feet.