"Oh, I don't think you need worry, old man, about the loss of the
'message from the tomb.'"
"Why not?" I asked.
"I know it by heart," he said, "every word of it; and the plan too--I
could draw it exactly. Look here!"
This was disappointing, for I really had thought I was going to score
for once over my acute one!
However, we praised one another, and came unanimously to the conclusion
that any two foxes would have to take a back seat for cunning if he and
I were to drop treasure hunting and take to robbing farmyards! And that
is how it came about that the loss of our papers was not so serious a
disaster for us as it might have been if we had been "other than we
were"--_i.e._ less clever.
So three weeks after Mr. Julius Stavenhagen's departure, or, if you
prefer it, Mr. James Strong's, Jack Henderson and I sailed at last from
Cape Town; a bad second, of course, but still not without hope that
Strong might hitherto have failed to find the treasure when we should
have reached the island of Hogland, or Hochland; indeed, it might even
prove that, fearing lest we should have remembered the name of the
island, he might have hesitated to visit the place at all, in case we
should follow and denounce him for the murderer he was.
I did not greatly rely on this last faint hope, however, for Strong was
not the kind of man to surrender an undoubted advantage for any
consideration of craven expediency. He would rather occupy the island
of Hogland, and shoot us if we appeared to disturb him; and that was
what we must look out for, supposing that we ever found the island with
Strong in possession.
"It would simply amount to a shooting match in that case," said Jack;
and I think he just about expressed it.
My leg was quite cured by this time, and my only trouble on the voyage
to England was that the _Bangor Castle_, which is one of the fastest
passenger steamers afloat, did not travel quickly enough. I was
beginning to consume my soul in anxiety to be even with James Strong for
his smart trick upon us, and to be "one point ahead" in the matter of
the treasure.
But we reached England in due time, and I journeyed straight up north to
Hull, in order to lose not a moment in making arrangements for our
departure; while Jack took the train at Paddington for Gloucestershire,
binding himself first by a solemn promise to come up north the instant I
telegraphed for him.
My faithful old friend had vowed to see me through with this treasure
hunt, and declared, moreover, that he considered himself under a solemn
obligation to discover James Strong and see him thoroughly well hanged
for his misdeeds.
So away went Jack for Gloucestershire, and I travelled northwards to
Hull and interviewed without delay the shipowners, Messrs. Wilcox, who,
I found, ran a line of regular steamers from this port to St. Petersburg
and Cronstadt. And first I inquired, with not a little anxiety as to
the reply, whether there really existed in the Gulf of Finland any such
island as Hogland. The clerk's answer was encouraging.
"Why, certainly!" he said. "Here, Captain Edwards, you can tell this
gentleman all about what he wants to know far better than I can. Captain
Edwards has just returned from a trip to Cronstadt, and must have passed
this very Hogland a few days since."
"At five forty-five last Sunday afternoon," said the captain, a quiet
and most gentlemanly little man, who, I was afterwards to learn, was a
pronounced favourite not only with his employers but also with every
passenger who had the good luck to take the trip in his fine steamer,
the _Thomas Wilcox_.
"Do passengers ever land there?" was my next question.
"Well, they don't get a chance, as a matter of fact," said Captain
Edwards; "for we never stop. There is nothing particularly attractive in
the island to cause passengers to wish to land and explore it. Stay,
though; I have heard of one visitor to the place--in fact, I took him
off the island eventually, though it was not I that landed him."
"Not just now--this month?" I blurted. The communication gave me a
shock, for it struck me that the passenger referred to could be no other
than James Strong, who, if he had already visited and left the island,
must have taken the treasure with him.
"Now? Dear, no!" said Edwards. "Four years since, at least--if not
five. An old fellow--cracky, I should say. He gave out on board the
_Rinaldo_, tripping from Hull to Cronstadt, that he was in search of an
island to bury treasure in, and asked to be landed in Hogland when he
passed it. You remember the story, Mr. Adams?"
Mr. Adams laughed, and said he had heard about it.
I laughed too, to hide my deeper emotions. This was delightful
confirmation of my best hopes!
"Was he landed there?" I asked. The captain's first words rather
staggered me.
"No, he wasn't," he replied. "He couldn't be without permission from
the Russian Government. But he went on to St. Petersburg, got his
permission, and was landed by the _Rinaldo_ on her return journey. I
took him off and brought him home. Dotty, I should say, decidedly. He
was in the rarest spirits, and declared that he had tricked his
blackguards of heirs, as he called them. They were not going to touch
his money, he said, before they had sweated a bit to earn it--just as he
had. Nobody believed he had a farthing to leave. He was dressed like a
pauper, and disputed his steward's bill."
Nothing could have portrayed my late revered acquaintance more
realistically than these words.
"It's sport, I suppose, isn't it?" continued Captain Edwards. "I am
told that numbers of wolves, foxes, and game birds of all kinds come
over the ice in winter, and some are caught there when the thaw sets in.
You might have a pleasant week--lonely, though; only a few fisherfolk
and the lighthouse people. The island is five or six miles in length."
I blushed, and declared that sport was--in part, at least--the object of
my visit; but that my main idea was to make some investigations in the
hope of finding coal and iron, which were supposed to exist in the
islands of the Gulf of Finland as on the mainland of Esthonia on the
Russian side of the water.
"Oh, I see!" said Captain Edwards. "Well, look out for my old friend's
treasure if you get digging. Who knows you mayn't hit upon something
that will pay you even better than coal and iron!"
Captain Edwards laughed merrily at his little joke; he did not dream how
near he came to touching the truth.
"Get yourself ready in a week," he added, "and I'll take you out.
You'll have to get leave, though, before you can land. Try the Russian
Consul; he's a sensible chap, and isn't likely to refuse anyone with
commercial intentions that might benefit his country."
I thanked Captain Edwards, and left the ship-owners' office to digest
what I had heard.
James Strong had apparently not sailed for Hogland from Hull; or, if he
had, he had not revealed his intention to land before sailing. If that
was the case, then he would not be landed at all--unless, indeed, he
relied upon getting permission from the authorities in St. Petersburg to
visit the island, and then returning thence to the spot.
After all, thought I, he would scarcely be so rash as to give himself
away by announcing who he was, and why he desired to visit the island of
Hogland. He would reflect that the first thing we should do on reaching
England would be to travel up to Hull and inquire after his movements;
and whether our designs upon him should prove to have reference to the
treasure or to the welfare of his neck, he would naturally prefer to
keep his whereabouts a secret. He would guess that, though we had lost
our maps, we might at least remember the name of Hogland, and that it
lay somewhere between St. Petersburg and Hull.
*CHAPTER XXVI*
*HOW WE PROSPECTED FOR COAL*
I happened to have some distant relatives in Hull, and, partly because I
could not as yet make up my mind upon the particular cock-and-bull story
that would best serve me with the Russian Consul, and partly because, I
suppose, if one possesses very few relatives of any kind the heart warms
towards even very distant ones when there is a chance of making or
renewing acquaintance with them, I determined to pay them a call.
I was glad afterwards that I did so; for my father's cousin and his
people were pleasant folk, and I have since learned to know and value
them well. But over and above these good and sufficient domestic
reasons there was another. My relative was well acquainted with the
Russian Consul, I found, and not only did he offer to introduce me to
that official, but even volunteered to go with me and use his good
offices in persuading Mr. Oboohofsky to grant my request.
My cousin, moreover, knew something of mining matters, and was somewhat
enthusiastic about my idea of coal and iron to be found in paying
quantities in Hogland. There were coalfields in Esthonia, he said; why
not in the islands off the coast? Why not, indeed? I began to look
upon Hogland as a kind of "land of promise," and grew quite in love with
my own ridiculous fable of exploiting the place for mineral wealth,
though at the same time I was somewhat ashamed of myself for, as it
were, taking in my relative in this matter. There might be coal and
iron, however, in the place, and if I happened to find any, why, so much
the better; my cousin should have the entire profit and exploitation of
it for himself.
Still, I would not promise to dig very deep for it; that would depend
upon the depth at which old Clutterbuck had buried his money-boxes; I
should go no deeper than that!
The Russian Consul was a practical person, and did not feel so
enthusiastic about my mining schemes as I had hoped he would. He wanted
to know why on earth I had thought of going to the Gulf of Finland for
coal; whereupon I trotted out my Esthonian coalfields--knowledge culled
from some physical geography book, and, by some inscrutably mysterious
process of mind, remembered where most other items of knowledge were
clean gone out.
Then he asked, why particularly Hogland? And it was at this point of the
conversation that I showed a readiness of resource and a nice
appreciation of difficult situations, otherwise "corners," and of how to
get out of them, which, if I could only act at all times up to the
"form" of that morning in September, would undoubtedly lead me into very
high places in the diplomatic and political world.
I pointed out to the Russian Consul that for purposes of coaling the
Baltic fleet a fuel-producing island like Hogland, in mid-channel on the
direct line from Cronstadt to everywhere else, would be an unspeakable
boon to the nation. At present most of the coal used by Russian
warships came from Hull and other English and Welsh ports But what if
the Baltic were blocked in time of war?
The Russian Consul did not burst into tears, and, while thanking Heaven
for this revelation of the terrible possibilities of the future, entreat
me, with streaming eyes, to go to Hogland and find a little coal for his
imperial master's warships; but he laughed, and said that the English
were wonderful people, and seemed to be for ever prepared to take a
great deal of trouble all over the world on the chance of very small
results, and added that he hoped, if I found my coal, that I would make
him a director of the company started to work it and would present him
with a few shares.
I promised that if I found coal I would let him know, but we have never
corresponded.
However, thanks to the good offices of my cousin, who was quite intimate
with the Consul, and my own obvious enthusiasm, which he did not for a
moment suspect to be founded on any more substantial basis than
coal--and extremely problematical coal at that--Mr. Consul Oboohofsky
granted my request for permission to land at Hogland, and countersigned
my passport to that effect with the words--"Bon pour l'ile de Hochland;"
and Jack Henderson's also.
This matter being satisfactorily arranged, and there being still four
days to pass before a start could be made, I ran down to Gloucestershire
and spent that time with Jack and his sister, who is one of the sweetest
girls that ever--but no, I think I will not enter into that matter in
this place; if I have anything more to say about the Hendersons and
their family circle I shall say it later on.
Enough that on the Saturday following Jack and I returned to Hull and
took ship on board the _Thomas Wilcox_, whose captain had special
permission from his owners to land us on the island of Hogland. I
confess that I left the shores of England feeling depressed and
miserable, and disinclined to go and dig for treasure or anything else,
and that I looked long and sadly back at the dull shores of the Humber
and wondered whereabouts exactly lay Gloucestershire, and what the good
folks at Henderson Court were doing just at this moment, and especially
Gladys--there I go again!
The North Sea is a cruel, ruthless body of water, and a stumbling-block
to passengers. I had travelled to the Cape and back, and scarcely felt
inconvenience; but here, one day out from England, I was treated to such
a pitching and a rolling and a tumbling that my very soul refused
comfort, and I lay and wished I was dead like any novice upon shipboard;
and so did Jack, which was a great consolation to me, and did me more
good than all the ministrations of the benevolent chief steward and the
encouragement of kind Captain Edwards.
But all was forgotten and forgiven when Copenhagen was reached and the
historical castle of Elsinore, one of the ugliest fastnesses, I should
say, that ever mason put together for the joint accommodation of
long-dead, disreputable kings, exemplary living monarchs, and
respectable ghosts.
We passed Elsinore at midnight, and I did think that--as we had paid a
good sum of money for our passages, and had stayed up and yawned for an
hour beyond our usual sea-time for retiring--there might have been some
little spiritual manifestation for our benefit. But Hamlet's father is,
I suppose, laid by this time; or the rebuilt castle, upon whose
battlements he used to walk, is not to his taste (in which case he is
the ghost of a wise and discriminating spirit!), for he never appeared
to us; and we were obliged to retire to bed baffled and disappointed,
resolved to pen a complaint to the Psychical Research authorities, who
ought to see that passengers _via_ Elsinore are not disappointed in this
way.
And so on into the Baltic, and past many islands belonging to Denmark
and Sweden, and with distant glimpses of a most uninteresting-looking
mainland; and presently the Gulf of Finland was reached, and our pulses
began to beat once more with the old ardour of treasure hunting--a
sensation we had almost forgotten since the agitating days of the Ngami
search, and the many exciting adventures and crises through which we had
passed in the last three months.
As we drew hourly nearer to our island, my excitement grew positively
painful. I was oppressed with a kind of horror that we should find
Strong waiting to be taken off, with a smile of triumph upon his face
and a cheque for one hundred thousand pounds securely buttoned up in his
breast pocket!
Captain Edwards, who proved a good and kind friend to us throughout,
strongly recommended us to take with us to Hogland a sailor--one whom he
could easily spare us, since he was now within a twelve hours' run of
his destination--of Russian nationality, who could speak English. He
had more than one such "hand" on board, and we arranged with a certain
Michail Andreyef to land with us and act as our interpreter--a post
which that gentleman, having ascertained that no work of any kind would
be involved in the situation, accepted with alacrity at a moderate wage;
and remarkably useful he proved to us in our sojourn in that lonely
island.
I do not think that Michail, good man, would have landed with us if he
had known that there was no drinking shop on the island; but he found
out our flasks after a day or two, and these no doubt afforded him some
little consolation, though, of course, the contents did not last him
long, and he was only drunk three days on the entire proceeds. And now
here, at last, was Hogland itself--our Eldorado, as we hoped, if only
James Strong had not already landed and ruined our prospects!
How I stared at it, and wondered and wondered whether the fateful tin
box that contained old Clutterbuck's cheque lay somewhere within its
soil, peacefully slumbering until the right man came along to unearth
the treasure! And oh! how I wished it might prove that Strong had
neither arrived nor forestalled me!
*CHAPTER XXVII*
*ELDORADO OR--HOGLAND*
The island looked bare and desolate enough from the point of view of the
deck of our steamer, long and rather narrow at each end, but bulging in
the middle to a width of several miles; covered with pine forests and
patches of moorland, and with a high backbone of tree-clad hills running
down the middle from end to end. It was exceedingly like the old man's
map as we remembered it, and the first sight of it so whetted my
enthusiasm and treasure-ardour that I could scarcely contain my joy when
we steamed into view of it.
Jack and I, nevertheless, made the most of the bird's-eye prospect of
the island which we now obtained; for we knew well that such a survey of
the place might be exceedingly useful to us in our subsequent
investigations. We saw the spot which appeared to us to answer to that
described in our lost maps as the grave of Clutterbuck's Treasure, and
we noted the best way to get to it, which was by the seashore to the
left from the lighthouse.
The keepers of that most useful building must have been surprised indeed
to see a large British steamer stop within half a mile of the
hungry-looking rocks upon which their house and tower were erected; for
though such vessels passed daily, none ever stayed. Three men, two
women, and several children came out in a hurried way and stood staring
like startled rabbits at us and our proceedings before bolting back to
their holes as the boat approached into which we had transferred
ourselves and our luggage, guns, spades, and provisions.
So far as these good folk were concerned, we might as well have had no
passport at all; and as for the "bon pour Hochland" of the Consul, if we
had written across the document any such legend as, for instance,
"Herrings at tenpence a dozen," it would have served the purpose equally
well. For the lighthouse keeper, after having studied the passports
wrong way up, and scratched his head for inspiration, and spat on the
ground in true Muscovite protest against the incomprehensible, and
having crossed himself in case there should be anything appertaining to
the evil eye or the police (which he regarded as amounting to much the
same thing) about the proceedings, gave it up as a bad job, and inquired
of our interpreter, Michail, what on earth we had come for.
I fancy Michail indulged in some pleasantry at our expense, for the two
women and three men and seven children, standing gaping around us, all
burst out laughing at the same moment, and the conversation among them
"became general."
Presently, however, Michail informed us that it was all right, and that
we might remain if we pleased. He said a small offering to the
lighthouse keeper, for "tea," would be acceptable, and this we
cheerfully provided, with the result that that gentleman and all his
following were our sworn friends for life, in the hope of more tea-money
some other day.
We were offered quarters in the wooden houses in which these good people
lived; but when we entered their abode and learned that we should be
expected to herd in one suffocatingly hot room, together with every
person whom we had yet seen, and perhaps others to whom we had not yet
been introduced, and to sleep on straw upon the floor, or on sheepskins
upon the top of a huge brick stove which occupied half the room, we
explained to Michail that we had other engagements. There were several
reasons for this decision besides those given--some crawly ones and some
jumpy. We saw a number of the former on the walls, and had already
begun to suspect the presence of the latter nearer still to our persons.
Michail might come back and sleep here, we told him, after he had
accompanied us to the small fishing village where we desired to make a
few inquiries.
This seemed to please Michail, who, we concluded, had some good reason
for liking the poor dumb animals on the wall better than we did. I
suppose there is good in most things, if one can only discern it through
the evil.
Michail inquired, at our request, whether anyone had landed here lately,
within the last month or so; upon which the lighthouse keeper informed
us that the last stranger who had visited the island, so far as he knew,
was a madman from England, or Germany, or other foreign parts, where
everyone, he was told, was more or less mad. This English lunatic had
landed here a few years ago; he had gone and hidden himself in the woods
for a week, alone, sleeping, he believed, at the village at the other
end of the island, and passing his time counting the trees in the
forest, or doing something equally insane. After a week he had
returned, and had been taken on board by a steamboat.
"No one else, this month?" we insisted.
"Certainly not," said the man; why should anyone come to the island if
he could live on the mainland, where there were drink-shops?
This was unanswerable, and quite delightful too, though how it happened
that we had contrived to arrive before the wide-awake Mr. James Strong
was more than I, or Jack either, could imagine.
"Perhaps he was wrecked, and drowned on the way here," I suggested.
Jack dissented. That would not be "playing the game," he said; Mr.
Strong was born to be hanged; of that there could be no possible doubt
whatever. Perhaps he would arrive while we were still on the island!
Michail must keep a lookout, and come and warn us if anyone landed. We
had no particular desire to be bombarded again by Mr. James Strong.
As an additional precaution we promised the lighthouse keeper the sum of
ten roubles, which is about equal to one pound, if he refused to allow
any other person to land, and were comforted by that individual's
assurance that he would refuse admittance to the Tsar of England himself
for such a sum of money as that.
Then we went to the fishing village in order to glean any information
that the inhabitants might have to dispense at their end of the island;
but to all our questions as to whether any person had landed on the
island within the last month, the "elder," or head man of the village,
to whom we applied, declared that he knew nothing and cared nothing
about anybody or anything; and that, when it was necessary, he also saw
nothing and heard nothing.
"Ask him, Michail, if a rouble would refresh his memory as to anything
he may have seen or heard," suggested Jack.
The head man said he did not know; it might.
Then he took the rouble, and declared that no one had been near the
island for years.
This was very satisfactory, and we added a second rouble in the joy of
our hearts; at which evidence of our generosity Alexander, the elder,
crossed himself and prayed aloud for the welfare of our souls. Then he
said he had some articles for sale which might be useful to us if we
intended to try a little sport on the island, and produced--to our
surprise--an English-looking revolver. I was about to take it from his
hand, when Jack snatched the weapon from me.
"Why, great skittles! Peter," he cried. "Look at it! Look at it, man;
look at it! What do you see?" Jack burst out laughing, and then
suddenly grew grave. I took the weapon from him to examine it,
surprised at his excitement.
"It's loaded," I said, "in four chambers."
"Yes; but look at it well!" he cried. "Don't you know it, man?"
I looked again, and the weapon almost dropped from my hand. It was my
own revolver, not a doubt of it--my own name was scratched along the
lower side of the barrel. It was the same that Strong had choked with
lead, that I had afterwards presented to Clutterbuck, that Strong had
stolen from that unfortunate fellow, and with which he had murdered his
companion; the same with which he had attacked ourselves on the road to
Vryburg, at our last encounter with the rascal, and a bullet from which
had taken a bit out of my shin-bone.
For a moment or two I was too bewildered to collect my thoughts. Jack
brought me to my senses.
"Well," he said, "what do you make of it?"
"I make of it that we are too late," I groaned. "The rogue has been too
quick for us, confound him!"
"Yes," said Jack, "that's what I'm thinking too. But how did this
fellow get hold of the pistol?"
It was a question to which I could find no reply.
"Ask him where he got the pistol from," said Jack to Michail; and our
interpreter put the question as desired.
The reply was that the pistol was for sale; would we buy it? The elder
knew nothing about the antecedents of the weapon, but it was his
property, and for sale.
"Ask him if he will remember anything about its history if we buy it,"
said Jack.
The elder was of opinion that he might remember a little for ten
roubles.
This sum was instantly transferred, and our friend presently informed
us, through Michail, that the weapon had belonged to a Swedish person
who had come over from the coast of Finland, from Helsingfors, in a
sailing boat about three weeks ago, and who had made him a present of
it. That was all he had to say. The Swede had departed a fortnight
ago.
At this reply my heart sank lower than before, for here was the
confirmation of my worst fears. All was lost--that much was obvious.
James Strong had been too smart for us. He had travelled _via_ Sweden
and crossed from Stockholm to Helsingfors, sailing over to Hogland from
that port--absolutely the simplest, and at the same time the most
artful, course he could pursue, seeing that he was unwilling to travel
direct from Hull by reason of the obvious publicity of such a
proceeding.
All was lost--that was now certain. I was a pauper again. The only
consolation was that, so far as I could see, I could not have done
anything to circumvent Strong. He had had too long a start.
*CHAPTER XXVIII*
*WHAT THE ELDER DID WITH STRONG*
Jack looked as dejected as I did.
"The only thing I don't understand is," he said presently, "why Strong
should have presented the fellow with his revolver. Do you suppose he
intended us to find it here, as a sort of mocking message to us that we
had failed?"
"More likely he wished to be rid of an awkward piece of evidence in case
he was ever collared by us," I said. "If we ever caught him, and he had
this thing in his possession, we should easily have proved our
accusations against him."
"Of course he found the treasure," said Jack, "or he wouldn't have gone
away."
"Of course," I echoed dismally.
"Still," said Henderson, "it would be interesting to hear all about
_how_ he found it and where; I'd give another ten roubles to be told all
this grimy gentleman knows."
I was not at all certain that it would be an unmixed joy to be taken and
shown the pit out of which another fellow had dug the treasure which I
had so ardently hoped to make my own. But Jack was evidently anxious on
the subject, and curiosity was burning a hole in my resolution as well.
I reflected a minute or two.
"Well, ask him if you like," I assented presently; "it will be a painful
thing for me, though, I can tell you." More painful than Jack guessed,
perhaps; for I was tenfold more anxious to be rich to-day than I had
been a few months since in Africa. I had found a new reason, down in
Gloucestershire, for wishing to own the treasure, and now all hope of
possessing old Clutterbuck's golden hoard had vanished. Painful? It
would be _torture_ to be shown the hole in which the treasure, and all
my hopes of happiness with it, had rested but a short three weeks since;
to be ruthlessly torn from their sanctuary by the bloodstained hands of
a double-dyed rascal like James Strong.
"Michail," said Jack, "tell the fellow there is more tea-money to be had
if his memory improves."
Michail conveyed this intelligence to his grimy companion, who grinned
and scratched his shaggy yellow locks, and spat and made a gesture as
though he now abandoned in our favour all previously observed
considerations of discretion. Then he bade Michail tell us that for a
second ten-rouble note he would tell us the whole history of the pistol,
which he had just remembered.
Jack was artful this time, having gained experience upon this artless
island. When he had heard the story, he said, he would hand over the
tempting-looking red bank-note for ten roubles, which he now carefully
removed from his purse and displayed, invitingly held between his
fingers.
Then the elder, after looking wolfishly at the note and indulging in a
final scratching among his tousled locks, began his tale, which proved
to be a sufficiently exciting one.
"It was a lunatic of a Swede," he said, "who had sailed over in a small
sailing-boat from Helsingfors, and had moored his craft over there at
the Finnish side of the island and come ashore. He couldn't talk a word
of anything that anyone could understand in the island, and would not
come to the village, but slept on the shore close to his boat; and if
anyone came near to have a look at him he stamped and raved and scolded
them away again.
"On the morning after the first night I went down to the shore to see
what the Swede was about," continued the elder, "that being my duty as
elder of the village, and I took with me Kuzma, my brother-in-law, and
Gavril, my brother; for we have no right to admit strangers upon the
island without passports. But this fellow had no passport, and
threatened me with his fists for demanding one of him.
"So Kuzma and Gavril and I sat down on the shore to watch what the
Swedish lunatic would do.
"He waited, hoping that we would go away; and we waited, to see what he
wanted on our island. He did nothing but read letters and look this way
and that through the trees, and then down again at his letter, like any
lunatic.
"Presently he grew tired of waiting, and stood up and shouted at us to
go away. We did not understand his lingo, but that was doubtless the
meaning of it, only the man was so angry that he could hardly speak, but
only screamed at us and stamped his foot. Kuzma grew a little
frightened and said, 'Shall we go, brothers? This man is mad; it would
be wise to preserve our bodies from harm.'
"But I said, 'No. We will pretend to depart, and hide ourselves among
the trees; then we shall see but not be seen!' So we departed and hid
ourselves where the mad Swede could not see us.
"After a while," continued the elder, "the madman took his letters and a
spade, and wandered about among the trees until he came to a certain
place, and there he began to dig.
"We desired to know, naturally, why he dug in the earth of our island,
and while he was very busy with his digging we came nearer to see what
we could see.
"And then, of a sudden, Kuzma coughed, and that mad Swede looked up and
saw us.
"Holy Saint Vladimir, equal to the apostles, preserve us from such
demons as that Swedish maniac when he caught sight of Kuzma and me and
Gavril! He rushed straight at us like a wild bull, bellowing and
shouting, and then--what think you, Mercifulness?--he whipped this very
pistol from his pocket and banged one shot at Kuzma and one at me. Me
he missed, by the mercy of the Highest, and thanks, doubtless, to the
interposition of my patron saint, Alexander of the Neva; but Kuzma was
struck by a bullet in the arm, and lay yelling on the ground."
The elder here paused in his narrative, which, for me, was about as
interesting a tale as ever human lips unfolded, and spat five several
times on the earth, crossing himself after each performance of the
function. I waited impatiently for him to recommence. Jack's face,
which I glanced at, was a study; he too was absorbed by the interest of
the tale.