CHECKMATE
"I WANT to ask your advice upon a certain matter, Mr. Herbert," said
the bos'n to my uncle that same evening. The "Fortuna" still remained
at anchor, for we were unwilling, owing to the changes caused by the
seismic disturbance, to make a passage in the darkness through the
shoals that surrounded the island.
My uncle and I were seated in deck chairs enjoying the cool of the
evening as well as our depressed spirits would allow, when Mr.
Wilkins approached, holding a bundle of papers in his hand.
"Well, what is it, Mr. Wilkins?"
"I've just been overhauling poor Dirham's ditty-box, sir, and there's
something queer about these letters. I thought I'd best show them to
you before I mention the matter to Mr. Trevena."
"They are all from the same individual, I notice," remarked Uncle
Herbert as he glanced at the address. "This, I take it, is the
first."
It was a plain envelope, on which was written, "Mr. J. Dirham, Yacht
'Fortuna,' Malta." Taking out the contents, Uncle Herbert held a
sheet of closely written paper up to the light of a deck lamp. On the
top of the paper was the heading, _The Yachtsman's Fortnightly
Journal_, with an address at Plymouth.
DEAR SIR. (it ran),--
We are in receipt of your letter of the 21st ult., and note the
information given of "Fortuna" yacht as arranged. Kindly let us
know as soon as can be ascertained the lat. and long. of the island
to which you go. A further sum of five shillings has been placed to
your credit in our ledgers.
Yours very truly,
JAMES TICKET (Editor).
"There's something fishy about this, Mr. Wilkins. In the first place,
I don't believe there is such a journal as _The Yachtsman's
Fortnightly_, and, secondly, no editor would pen such un-English
jargon."
"That's what I thought, sir; now read this one."
The second communication was addressed to the yacht at Point de
Galle, Ceylon, and thanked the recipient for the information
regarding the position of San Philipo Island. Curiously enough, it
was signed "James Trickett," a difference of two letters to the
signature of the previous epistle.
"Do you think we might show them to Mr. Trevena?" asked the bos'n. "I
don't like to worry him, seeing him so cut up just at present.
"I don't think it will do him any harm," replied my uncle. "If
anything, it will give him something to occupy his mind. I am of the
opinion that some underhand business is afloat, and that Dirham was
an agent in the matter. However, we'll see what my brother has to say
about it."
So saying, he led the way to the cabin, where my father was sitting
brooding over the calamities of the day. Without speaking, my uncle
handed him the packet of letters, which my father carelessly took,
but before he had read the first two or three his face lighted up
with animated interest.
"What do you make of the business?" asked my uncle. "It seems a bit
of a mystery?"
"A mystery? My word!--the whole affair is as clear as daylight. An
interested party, or parties, must have been trying to find out the
destination of the 'Fortuna' in order to try, and cut her out, as it
were. What surprises me is that a rival expedition has not appeared
on the scene before now; but let them come," he added bitterly; "they
are welcome to what's left."
"Then you think the _Yachtsman's Fortnightly Journal_ is a myth!"
"Undoubtedly. There never was such a periodical, and it is merely a
blind. Dirham was a traitor, though perhaps he acted in ignorance of
the jeopardy, in which he might have placed us, thinking that he was
merely giving commonplace information to a yachting paper; and I am
convinced that, judging by the orthographical and grammatical errors
in these letters, the author is none other than your Brazilian
friend, the fellow you shot when he broke into our house."
"Your explanation seems plausible."
"Nothing could be more simple. The Brazilian received the particulars
of the position of the island from Dirham, who, judging by the
postmarks and addresses on these envelopes, sent the information from
Port Said or Suez. It was after we left Malta, you remember, that the
latitude and longitude of the island became an open secret. No doubt
the villain, who may be a man of wealth or at least of considerable
means, knew far more about the treasure than we are aware. He might
have wormed part of the secret from Ross Trevena or his son during
their residence near Pernambuco. However, he receives the
information, for, as you see here, he acknowledges the receipt of it,
and I'll be greatly surprised if a private steam-yacht has not been
chartered to try and carry off the treasure before we arrived at the
island."
"I should like to witness their disappointment," remarked my uncle.
"It would not be greater than mine is," replied my father, relapsing
into a depressed tone at the thought of our ill-fortune. "Two poor
fellows have been sacrificed to the lust of gold, and the bulk of the
treasure lies at the bottom of the sea."
"You may recover it yet, 'sir," exclaimed the bos'n. "The divers are
willing to make the attempt, and it may be that there is less water
at the spot where the whaler sank than we know of."
"No, Mr. Wilkins," replied my father emphatically, "I'll have no more
lives risked in the matter. The stuff can stay where it is. After
all, we have not done so badly, if we do not take into consideration
the two deplorable fatalities. The two large chests, four boxes of
specie, and the gold plate are not to be sneezed at, and, as I have
already announced to the crew, every man will be well provided for
when the treasure is shared out. Even now we have done better than
most of the treasure-hunting syndicates that have been formed in
recent years, for we have a substantial balance in hand."
"Then we'll weigh anchor to-morrow, sir?" asked the bos'n.
"Everything is shipshape--stores, water, and ballast are aboard."
"You must have worked well," exclaimed my father enthusiastically.
"Yes, to-morrow at daybreak."
* * * * *
The rasping of the windlass and the clinking of the cable as it came
slowly inboard were the welcome sounds that greeted my ears early the
next morning, and, jumping out of my bunk, I proceeded to dress in
order to have a glimpse of San Philipo Island before it was lost to
view. But before I was half-way through that operation a hoarse voice
shouted "Sail-ho!"
"What can that be?" I asked myself.
The next instant the bos'n came running down the companion, and,
knocking at the door of my father's cabin, he exclaimed--
"A large steam-yacht approaching, sir!"
"Any flag?"
"No, sir; she shows no colours."
"How far away is she?"
"About two miles to the south-east, and she's making straight for the
island."
"The rival treasure-seekers!" I exclaimed excitedly. "Now for some
excitement," and, hastily completing my toilet, I rushed on deck,
where Uncle Herbert, Dr. Conolly, and the crew, save those who manned
the windlass, were intently watching the approach of the strange
craft. Presently we were joined by my father.
The vessel, which had apparently been making about eleven knots, was
now within half a mile, and her engines were eased down preparatory
to anchoring. She was about two hundred tons displacement, with
schooner bows, and carried two pole masts. With a telescope I saw the
crew, clustered up for'ard, regarding us with the same curiosity that
we were bestowing upon them. They were mostly dark-featured, some
being black, and were rigged out in white canvas clothing and
red-stocking caps. On the bridge were five or six men, evidently
officers, in dark-blue uniforms; plentifully embellished with gold
lace and buttons. A more inappropriate uniform for the tropics would
be hard to obtain, unless it were a motor-coat; but it seemed evident
from their love of finery; that these men came from a Latin
nation--Italy or Spain, or one of their offshoots.
"Up and down!" shouted the bos'n, who was superintending the weighing
of the anchor, referring to the fact that the chain had already taken
the weight of our ground-tackle off the bottom'.
"Avast heaving!" he continued, at a sign from my father, and the
clanking of the winch ceased, the dripping anchor hanging just clear
of the surface. In the tideless sea, with not a breath of wind to
ruffle the absolutely calm water, the "Fortuna" lay motionless,
awaiting the approach of her rival.
"Blest if I don't know 'er!" exclaimed one of the crew. "Why, if she
ain't the old 'Ermyhony' that used ter lie off Priddy's. 'Ard when I
was in the 'Nelson' I'll eat my 'at."
"The what did he say?" I asked the doctor.
"The 'Hermione' I suppose he means," he replied with a smile.
"Hoist our colours," ordered my father, and the blue ensign was run
up to the mizzen-truck, where it hung motionless in the still
atmosphere.
The strange yacht still held on her course, and slowly, so slowly
that it seemed like an exhibition of sulky reluctance, her ensign was
hoisted, and simultaneously, with a heavy splash and a loud rattle of
chain, the anchor was let go.
To me, her colours, as they hung in folds from her mainmast head,
appeared to be a mixture of blue, green, and yellow, but my ignorance
of their nationality was dispelled by a general exclamation, "The
Brazilian ensign!"
"There you are! Am I not right?" said my father.
"Yes," replied Uncle Herbert, who was studying the group on the
bridge through a glass. "And see that fellow by the chart-house door,
the second from the end? I would know him anywhere in spite of his
brass-bound togs. It's our old acquaintance, _alias_ James Ticket,
right enough. But see him scowl!"
"They're signalling, sir," said Lord, the quartermaster, as a string,
of bunting fluttered up from her bridge.
"International code: 'I want to communicate,'" reported the bos'n.
"Reply in the negative," repeated my father; "and give my compliments
to the Editor of the _Yachtsman's Fortnightly._"
The motor throbbed, and the "Fortuna," gathering way, showed her
stern to the Brazilian yacht, the crew of which were dividing their
attention between the vessel that had baulked their enterprise and
the gaunt outlines of the hulk of the "San Philipo," as, raised on
the summit of the reef, she stood out boldly against the cliffs of
the treasure island.
In another hour we had caught a favouring breeze, and the scene of
our many and varied adventures had disappeared beneath the horizon.
The "Fortuna" was homeward bound.
* * * * *
Little remains to be said concerning the "San Philipo" treasure. The
"Fortuna" had a long, though pleasant, passage home, Dr. Conolly
leaving the yacht at Singapore, where he received a cablegram from
London offering him his long-desired post as medical officer on a
liner.
Yadillah took his discharge at Suez, and, with a fair share of the
spoils, announced his intention of setting up as a bumboatman at that
port.
Eighteen months after our departure the "Fortuna" entered Fowey
Harbour, where an enthusiastic welcome awaited us.
Once more we were back in our home at Polruan, Alec Johnston
remaining as a trusted servant. The rest of the crew of the "Fortuna"
have scattered far and wide, but we frequently hear from most of
them, while the bos'n and the quartermaster, who have bought pretty
little cottages near Falmouth, often pay us a welcome visit.
The proceeds of the residue of the treasure have been judiciously
invested, and the only thing that apparently troubles my father is
the importunities of the Inland Revenue authorities.
One link serves to remind me forcibly of the past. Over the door of
the now rebuilt summer-house that had played an important part in
this story is fixed the huge graven image which we had brought from
the treasure island; and I never look at it without vividly recalling
the terrifying ordeal I underwent when lying bound and helpless
before the figure-head of the "San Philipo."
UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON
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[Transcriber's Notes:
This book contains a number of misprints.
The following misprints have been corrected:
[and the puzzle is, What] -->
[and the puzzle is, what]
[asked Hicks, knocking] -->
[asked Hinks, knocking] (*)
[immesiately stopped the engine] -->
[immediately stopped the engine]
[Do you think they heard the shot on board the 'Fortuna'!] -->
[Do you think they heard the shot on board the 'Fortuna'?]
[A Tale of the East Cost] -->
[A Tale of the East Coast]
*) The name "Hinks" occurs 8 times in the text, "Hicks"
just once. Also from the surrounding text it becomes clear
that it must be "Hinks"
An Illustrations-list has been added after the Contents-list.
A few illustrations didn't have a description. A description has
been provided by the transcriber to make reference to it possible.
To distinguish them from the other illustrations, the description
is put in lower-case.
Several illustrations depict tables with numbers. These
tables are converted to text in the plain text version.
There are two "misprints" in the illustrations depicting tables:
1) The illustration of the unsolved cipher should show an extra
seconds-mark. You can see this by comparing it with the
illustration of the solved cipher, where you see the extra
seconds-mark next to the second degrees-mark.
2) The solved cipher shows totals in the top-row and the last column
on the right. The total in the top-row, 6th square, should be "191"
instead of "19".
]