CHAPTER VIII

THE SCOURGES OF THE SEA

Tyke's eyes were staring and his face was so apoplectic that Drew was

alarmed.

"Make out of it?" Tyke spluttered, getting up and nearly overturning

his chair. "I make out of it that Manuel was right when he said that

the old chest held something worth more'n diamonds."

Grimshaw was so shaken out of his usual calm that Captain Hamilton,

too, shared Drew's alarm.

"I tell you what we'd better do," he suggested. "We're all too much

excited to discuss this thing intelligently now. We've got a whole lot

to digest, and it will take time. This thing will keep. Suppose we

have our young friend here take this rough draft home with him and

piece out the missing parts as well as he can. In the meantime we'll

all mull it over in our minds, look at it from every angle, and meet

here fresh and rested to-morrow morning to decide on what we'd better

do."

"I guess you're right," assented Tyke, mopping his forehead. "This old

head of mine is whirling around like a top."

Tyke locked the map carefully in his safe and committed the other paper

and the captain's partial transcription to his chief clerk with solemn

injunctions to take the utmost care of them.

But the latter stood in no need of the admonition. He would have

defended those papers with his life. They meant for him--what did they

not mean?

Romance, adventure, wealth! Now at last he would have something to

justify his search for Ruth Adams and his suit for her hand. Now he

could frame his jewel, when he found it, in a proper setting.

The three men prepared to leave the private office. Captain Hamilton

was first at the door, and he unlocked it. The instant he pulled the

door open, Drew heard him ejaculate:

"Thunderation! Mr. Ditty! What are you doing here?"

"You told me to follow you here, Captain Hamilton," said a respectful

voice. "They told me you were inside, and so I waited for you."

"Humph! quite right, Mr. Ditty," Captain Hamilton said hastily. Then

he thrust his, head back into the office. "My mate's come for me,

Tyke. We've got an errand on Whitehall Street. See you to-morrow.

Good night, Mr. Drew."

Both the captain and the other man had gone when Drew went out into the

larger room. The remainder of that afternoon he spent in a dream.

When the day's work was over, Drew dined hastily and then shut himself

in his room where he worked busily until midnight, filling in the

vacant spaces in the rough draft of the confession. He was critical of

his efforts, recasting and revising again and again until he was

satisfied that he had caught the full meaning of the old document as

far as it was humanly possible. Only then did he lay it aside--to

dream of Ruth.

Drew was at the shop before his usual time the next morning, and Tyke

and Captain Hamilton came in soon afterward. The three went at once

into secret session, leaving the entire conduct of the chandlery

business to Winters, much to the mystification of that youth.

All three were fresh and cool this morning as they buckled down to the

problem they had to solve, and the wisdom of the previous night's

adjournment was clearly evident.

"I got to talking this thing over with my daughter last night," said

Captain Hamilton. "You'd forgotten I had a daughter, Tyke? Wait till

you see her! Well, she was aboard the schooner for dinner with me, and

she said: 'Daddy, if there is a real pirate's treasure, please go after

it. Then you can stay ashore and not go sailing away from me any

more.' So, I've a double incentive for pursuing this thing," and the

captain laughed.

"Yes, that's like the women-folk," observed Grimshaw. "They're always

for a man's leaving the sea."

"That isn't what made you leave it, Tyke," Captain Hamilton said slyly.

"An' it won't be women-folk that sends me back to it, neither," growled

the older man. "An' now, Allen," he added, as they settled comfortably

into their chairs, "how did you git along with the paper? Have you got

it so that it makes sense?"

"I'll let you judge of that for yourselves," replied Drew, taking the

revised draft from his pocket. "Of course, I can't say that it's

exactly right. Some of the missing words and sentences I had to guess

at. But it's as nearly right as I know how to make it."

He waited while Grimshaw and Captain Hamilton lighted their cigars, and

then proceeded to read:

"Trinidad, March 18, 17 .....

"In the name of God, amen.

"I, Ramon Alvarez, unworthy sinner that I am and not fit to take the

name of God upon my lips, and well knowing that I deserve no mercy who

have ever shown none, expecting to be plunged into the deepest hell,

yet basing my only hope on the Virgin Mary and the blessed saints and

the shriving of Holy Church, do hereby confess the misdeeds of my life.

"From my youth up I was wild. I was with the buccaneers who, off the

Tortugas, captured the French ship, _Reine Marguerite_, all of whose

crew and passengers we put to death. From there we ran to Port au

Spain, ravaging and plundering. We captured the city, killing most of

the men and boys and carrying off the women and girls. Off one of the

Bahama Cays we took a Spanish galleon, and although her people fought

stoutly, we made them finally walk the plank. Other ships we captured

whose names I have forgotten. We took great spoils, but the money was

accursed and was soon spent in wild living.

"I myself soon became a captain. Down in the Caribbean Sea we won a

caravel and killed all on board, one hundred and twenty. I lost my

ship in a tornado, but soon got another.

"Many more evil deeds we did that would make me weary with the telling.

We feared neither God nor man.

"At last, after ten years or more of butchery, the nations sent many

frigates in chase of us. I fled to one of the islands and careened my

ship. Tired, knowing I would be taken sooner or later, I made up my

mind that I would capture one more rich prize and then be done with my

wickedness.

"We captured the ship _Guadalquiver_. The fight was desperate and the

decks ran with blood. We took ...... thousand doubloons, many pearls

and jewels of price.

"I knew of an island off the beaten track where there was good hiding

to be found. I took the cutter one night and went ashore to bury

treasure. Two men with me mutinied and I killed them both. And there

the booty is still, unless it has been taken away, which God forbid.

"Now, standing mayhap on the very brink of hell, I have made this

drawing of the island where the treasure is buried. I give it freely

to Holy Mother Church, and beg that part be spent for candles to be

burned before the altar and for masses to be said for my unworthy soul.

his

_"Ramon_ (X) _Alvarez_.

mark

"Attest, _Pablo Ximenes_, notary."

"Good work, Allen," commended Tyke, as the reader stopped.

"Very cleverly done," added Captain Hamilton.

Drew flushed with pleasure.

"Those old fellows were well called 'the scourges of the sea,' weren't

they?" he said. "Now here! There are just two things missing that it

would be the merest guess-work to supply," he added. "One is the date.

We know the century, but the year is absolutely rubbed out. The other

is the number of doubloons captured with his last prize. That was in a

crease of the paper and had crumbled away."

"Yes," replied Captain Hamilton; "but neither is so very important. Of

course, the later the date, the less time there has been for any one to

find the doubloons and take them away. We have the names of some of

the ships that were captured though, and we might look the matter up in

some French or Spanish history and so get a clue to the date.

"As to the extent of the treasure, we'll find that out for ourselves

when we get it, if we ever do. And if we don't get it, the amount

doesn't matter."

"It seems to be a pretty good-sized one, from the way the rascal speaks

about it," remarked Tyke.

"Plenty big enough to pay for the trouble of getting it," agreed

Captain Hamilton.

"Well, now that we know what the paper says, let's git right down to

brass tacks," suggested Grimshaw. "In the first place, this particular

pirate, Alvarez, was evidently a Spaniard. The language the paper is

written in proves that."

"Not necessarily," objected the captain. "Spanish is the language

spoken in Trinidad, and even if the dying man were a Frenchman or an

Englishman, the notary would probably translate what he said into

Spanish. Still, the first name, and probably the last, indicate

Spanish birth. I guess we're pretty safe in considering that point

settled."

"But I thought most of the pirates, the leaders anyway, were French or

English," persisted Tyke.

"So they were," answered the captain; "but the Portuguese and Spaniards

ran them a close second. As a matter of fact, those fellows

acknowledged no nationality and cut the throats of their own countrymen

as readily as any others. The only flag they owed any allegiance to

was the skull and crossbones."

"But how comes it that this confession was made before a notary?" asked

Drew. "I should think it would have been made verbally to a priest."

"Well," said the captain thoughtfully, "there are various ways of

accounting for that. Alvarez may have been taken sick suddenly, and

the notary may have been nearest at hand. Even if the priest had been

summoned, the sick man might have feared that he would die before the

priest got there and wanted to get it off his mind. He didn't seem to

have much hope of heaven, from the way the paper reads."

"I don't wonder," put in Tyke, dryly.

"But whatever chance there was, he wanted to take it," finished the

captain.

"I wonder how the paper ever got into Manuel's hands," pondered Tyke.

"The churches and convents seemed to suffer most in those wild days,"

said the captain. "They were sacked and plundered again and again. It

might very well be that this paper was stolen by ignorant adventurers,

and in some way got into the hands of one of Manuel's ancestors and so

came down to him. Probably most of them couldn't read and had no idea

of what the paper contained. Could Manuel read?" he asked, turning to

Grimshaw.

"Why, yes; but rather poorly," answered Tyke.

"I've seen him sometimes in port looking over a Spanish newspaper,

moving his finger slowly along each line."

"That explains it then," said the captain. "He was able to make out

just enough to guess that the paper and map referred to hidden

treasure, but he wasn't able to make good sense of it."

"I s'pose that was the reason he was always trying to git me interested

in his pirate stories," put in Tyke. "He was kind o' feeling me out,

an' if I'd showed any interest or belief in it, he'd have probably

tried to git me to take a ship and go after it with him."

"Not a doubt in the world," agreed Captain Hamilton.

"Well, now we've looked at the matter of the paper from most every

side," remarked Tyke; "an' I guess we're all agreed that it looks like

a _bona fide_ confession. We've seen, too, how it was possible for it

to git into the hands of Manuel. Now let's see if we can make head or

tail of the map."

He brought out the paper from his safe and the three men crowded around

it. Here, after all, was the crux of the whole matter. By this they

were to stand or fall. It booted little to know merely that the

doubloons were buried somewhere in the West Indies. They might as well

be at the North Pole, unless they could locate their hiding place with

some degree of precision.

The dark, heavily shaded part in the center of the map was evidently

meant to mark the position of the island itself. Quite as surely, the

light, undulating lines surrounding it were intended to show the water.

"There seems to be just one inlet," said Captain Hamilton, pointing to

an indentation that bit deeply into the dark mass of the island.

"Lucky there's even one," grunted Tyke. "I've known many of those

picayune islands where there was no safe anchorage at all."

The island was irregular in shape and seemed to have an elevation in

the center. But what most attracted their attention were three small

circles some distance in from the shore that seemed to indicate some

special spot.

"There's some writing alongside of these," announced Drew, after a

sharp scrutiny. "If you'll hand me the reading glass I think I can

make it out."

The glass was quickly brought into use, and Drew stared at the writing

hard and long.

"'The Witch's Head.' 'The Three Sisters'," he translated.

"Sounds like a suffragette colony," muttered Tyke.

But Drew was too deeply engrossed with his task to notice the play of

fancy.

"Thirty-seven long paces due north from the Witch's Head.'

'Eighty-nine long paces due east from The Three Sisters,'" he went on.

"Now we're getting down to something definite!" exclaimed Captain

Hamilton.

"That's all," announced Drew. "What do you suppose it means?"

"It can mean only one thing, it seems to me," said Tyke excitedly.

"It's pointing to the spot where the doubloons are buried."

"Yes," agreed the captain, "I should take it to mean that if you mark

off thirty-seven long paces north from the Witch's Head and eighty-nine

long paces east from The Three Sisters, the spot where those paths

cross would be the place to dig."

"Do you see anything on the map that would give a hint as to the

latitude and longitude?" asked Grimshaw anxiously.

"No," answered Drew. "Wait a minute though," he added hastily.

"Here's something that looks like figures down in the lower left hand

corner. Fifty-seven .... No! Sixty-seven-three is one, and

thirteen-ten is the other."

"That can only stand for longitude and latitude!" cried Tyke. "Quick,

Allen, git down that Hydrographic Office chart. That'll cover it."

Doubloons—and the Girl · 第 8 / 35 章