THE OCEAN DEPTHS.
The next morning dawned and Brandon hurried to the rock and looked
around. During the night a slight wind had sprung up, and was still
gently breathing. Far over the wide sea there was not a sail to be seen.
The brig had passed away. They were finally left to themselves.
Now at last the time of trial had come. They were eager to make the
attempt, and soon the yacht was unmoored, and moved slowly out to sea in
the direction of Needle Island. A light breeze still blew fitfully, but
promised at any moment to stop; yet while it lasted they passed onward
under its gentle impulse, and so gradually reached Needle Island, and
went on into the sea beyond.
Before they had come to the spot which they wished to attain the breeze
had died out, and they were compelled to take to the oars. Although
early in the morning the sun was burning hot, the work was laborious,
and the progress was slow. Yet not a murmur was heard, nor did a single
thought of fatigue enter the minds of any of them. One idea only was
present--one so overwhelming that all lesser thoughts and all ordinary
feelings were completely obliterated. After two hours of steady labor
they at last reached a place which seemed to them to be exactly one
league due north of Needle Islet. Looking back they saw that the rocks
on the island seemed from this distance closer together, and thinner
and sharper, so that they actually bore a greater resemblance to needles
from this point than to any thing else.
Here they sounded. The water was fifteen fathoms deep--not so great a
depth as they had feared. Then they put down the anchor, for although
there was no wind, yet the yacht might be caught in some current, and
drift gradually away from the right position.
The small boat had all this time been floating astern with the pumping
apparatus in it, so that the adventurous diver might readily be
accompanied in his search and his wanderings at the bottom of the sea.
But there was the prospect that this search would be long and arduous,
and Brandon was not willing to exhaust himself too soon. He had already
resolved that the first exploration should be made by Asgeelo. The Hindu
had followed Brandon in all his wanderings with that silent submission
and perfect devotion which is more common among Hindus than any other
people. He had the air of one who was satisfied with obeying his master,
and did not ask the end of any commands which might be given. He was
aware that they were about to explore the ocean depths, but showed no
curiosity about the object of their search. It was Brandon’s purpose to
send him down first at different points, so that he might see if there
was any thing there which looked like what they sought.
Asgeelo--or Cato, as Brandon commonly called him--had made those simple
preparations which are common among his class--the apparatus which the
pearl-divers have used ever since pearl-diving first commenced. Twelve
or fifteen stones were in the boat, a flask of oil, and a sponge which
was fastened around his neck. These were all that he required. Each
stone weighed about thirty pounds. One of these he tied around one foot;
he saturated the sponge with oil, so as to use it to inhale air beneath
the water; and then, standing on the edge of the boat and flinging his
arms straight up over his head, he leaped into the water and went down
feet foremost.
Over the smooth water the ripples flowed from the spot where Asgeelo had
disappeared, extending in successive concentric circles, and radiating
in long undulations far and wide. Louis and Frank waited in deep
suspense. Asgeelo remained long beneath the water, but to them the time
seemed frightful in its duration. Profound anxiety began to mingle with
the suspense, for fear lest the faithful servant in his devotion
had over-rated his powers--lest the disuse of his early practice had
weakened his skill--lest the weight bound to his foot had dragged him
down and kept him there forever.
At last, when the suspense had become intolerable and the two had
already begun to exchange glances almost of despair, a plash was heard,
and Asgeelo emerged far to the right. He struck out strongly toward the
boat, which was at once rowed toward him. In a few minutes he was taken
in. He did not appear to be much exhausted.
He had seen nothing.
[Illustration: “A dark, sinewy arm emerged from beneath, armed with a
long, keen knife.”]
They then rowed about a hundred yards further, and Asgeelo prepared to
descend once more. He squeezed the oil out of the sponge and renewed it
again. But this time he took a knife in his hand.
“What is that for?” asked Frank and Louis.
“Sharks!” answered Cato, in a terrible tone.
At this Louis and Frank exchanged glances. Could they let this devoted
servant thus tempt so terrible a death?
“Did you see any sharks?” asked Louis.
“No, Sahib.”
“Why do you fear them, then?”
“I don’t fear them, Sahib.”
“Why do you take this knife?”
“One may come, Sahib.”
After some hesitation Asgeelo was allowed to go. As before he plunged
into the water, and remained underneath quite as long; but now they
had become familiarized with his powers and the suspense was not so
dreadful. At the expiration of the usual time he reappeared, and on
being taken into the boat he again announced that he had seen nothing.
They now rowed a hundred yards farther on in the same direction, toward
the east, and Asgeelo made another descent. He came back with the same
result.
It began to grow discouraging, but Asgeelo was not yet fatigued, and
they therefore determined to let him work as long as he was able. He
went down seven times more. They still kept the boat on toward the east
till the line of “needles” on the sand island had become thrown
farther apart and stood at long distances. Asgeelo came up each time
unsuccessful.
He at last went down for the eleventh time. They were talking as usual,
not expecting that he would reappear for some minutes, when suddenly a
shout was heard, and Asgeelo’s head emerged from the water not more than
twenty yards from the boat. He was swimming with one hand, and in the
other he held an uplifted knife, which he occasionally brandished in the
air and splashed in the water.
Immediately the cause of this became manifest. Just behind him a sharp
black fin appeared cutting the surface of the water.
It was a shark! But the monster, a coward like all his tribe, deterred
by the plashing of the water made by Asgeelo, circled round him and
hesitated to seize his prey. The moment was frightful. Yet Asgeelo
appeared not in the least alarmed. He swam slowly, occasionally turning
his head and watching the monster, seeming by his easy dexterity to be
almost as much in his native element as his pursuer, keeping his eyes
fixed on him and holding his knife in a firm clasp. The knife was a
long, keen blade, which Asgeelo had carried with him for years.
Louis and Frank could do nothing. A pistol ball could not reach this
monster, who kept himself under the water, where a ball would be spent
before striking him, if indeed any aim could direct a bullet toward that
swift darting figure. They had nothing to do but to look on in an agony
of horror.
Asgeelo, compelled to watch, to guard, to splash the water, and to
turn frequently, made but a slow passage over those twenty yards which
separated him from the boat. At last it seemed as if he chose to stay
there. It seemed to those who watched him with such awful horror that
he might have escaped had he chosen, but that he had some idea of
voluntarily encountering the monster. This became evident at last, as
the shark passed before him when they saw Asgeelo’s face turned toward
it; a face full of fierce hate and vengeance; a face such as one turns
toward some mortal enemy.
He made a quick, fierce stroke with his long knife. The shark gave a
leap upward. The water was tinged with blood. The next moment Asgeelo
went down.
“What now?” was the thought of the brothers. Had he been dragged down?
Impossible! And yet it seemed equally impossible that he could have gone
down of his own accord.
In a moment their suspense was ended. A white flash appeared near the
surface. The next instant a dark, sinewy arm emerged from beneath, armed
with a long, keen knife, which seemed to tear down with one tremendous
stroke that white, shining surface.
It was Asgeelo’s head that emerged in a sea of blood and foam. Triumph
was in his dark face, as with one hand he waved his knife exultantly.
A few moments afterward the form of a gigantic shark floated upward to
the surface, dyeing the sea with the blood which had issued from the
stroke dealt by Asgeelo. Not yet, however, was the vindictive fury of
the Hindu satiated. He swam up to it. He dashed his knife over and over
the white belly till it became a hideous mass of gaping entrails. Then
he came into the boat.
He sat down, a hideous figure. Blood covered his tawny face, and the
fury of his rage had not left the features.
The strength which this man had shown was tremendous, yet his quickness
and agility even in the water had been commensurate with his strength.
Brandon had once seen proofs of his courage in the dead bodies of
the Malay pirates which lay around him in the cabin of that ill-fated
Chinese ship: but all that he had done then was not to be compared to
this.
They could not help asking him why he had not at once made his escape to
the boar, instead of staying to fight the monster.
Asgeelo’s look was as gloomy as death as he replied,
“They tore in pieces my son, Sahib--my only son--when he first went
down, and I have to avenge him. I killed a hundred on the Malabar coast
before I left it forever. That shark did not attack me; I attacked him.”
“If you saw one now would you attack him?”
“Yes, Sahib.”
Brandon expressed some apprehension, and wished him not to risk his
life.
But Asgeelo explained that a shark could be successfully encountered by
a skillful swimmer. The shark is long, and has to move about in a circle
which is comparatively large; he is also a coward, and a good swimmer
can strike him if he only chooses. He again repeated triumphantly that
he had killed more than a hundred to avenge his son.
In his last venture Asgeelo had been no more successful than before.
Needle Island was now to the southwest, and Brandon thought that their
only chance was to try farther over toward the west, where they had not
yet explored.
They rowed at once back to the point from which they had set out, and
then went on about a hundred and fifty yards to the west. From this
place, as they looked toward the islet, the three rocks seemed so close
together that they appeared blended, and the three sharp, needlelike
points appeared to issue from one common base. This circumstance had
an encouraging effect, for it seemed to the brothers as though their
ancestor might have looked upon those rocks from this point of view
rather than from any other which had as yet come upon the field of their
observation.
This time Brandon himself resolved to go down; partly because he thought
that Asgeelo had worked long enough, and ought not to be exhausted on
that first day, and partly on account of an intolerable impatience, and
an eagerness to see for himself rather than intrust it to others.
There was the horror of the shark, which might have deterred any other
man. It was a danger which he had never taken into account. But the
resolve of his soul was stronger than any fear, and he determined to
face even this danger. If he lost his life, he was indifferent. Let
it go! Life was not so precious to him as to some others. Fearless by
nature, he was ordinarily ready to run risks; but now the thing that
drew him onward was so vast in its importance that he was willing to
encounter peril of any kind.
Frank was aware of the full extent of this new danger, but he said
nothing, nor did he attempt in any way to dissuade his brother. He
himself, had he been able, would have gone down in his place; but as he
was not able, he did not suppose that his brother would hesitate.
The apparatus was in the boat. The pumping-machine was in the stern;
and this, with the various signal-ropes, was managed by Frank. Asgeelo
rowed. These arrangements had long since been made, and they had
practiced in this way on the Hudson River.
Silently Brandon put on his diving armor. The ropes and tubes were all
carefully arranged. The usual weight was attached to his belt, and he
was slowly lowered down to the bottom of the sea.
The bottom of the ocean was composed of a smooth, even surface of fine
sand and gravel, along which Brandon moved without difficulty. The
cumbrous armor of the diver, which on land is so heavy, beneath the
water loses its excessive weight, and by steadying the wearer assists
him to walk. The water was marvelously transparent, as is usually the
case in the southern seas, and through the glass plate in his helmet
Brandon could look forward to a greater distance than was possible in
the Hudson.
Overhead he could see the bottom of the boat, as it floated and moved on
in the direction which he wished: signals, which were communicated by
a rope which he held in his hand, told them whether to go forward or
backward, to the right or to the left, or to stop altogether. Practice
had enabled him to command, and them to obey, with ease.
Down in the depths to which he had descended the water was always still,
and the storms that affected the surface never penetrated there. Brandon
learned this from the delicate shells and the still more delicate forms
of marine plants which lay at his feet, so fragile in their structure,
and so delicately poised in their position, that they must have formed
themselves in deep, dead stillness and absolute motionlessness of
waters. The very movement which was caused by his passage displaced them
in all directions, and cast them down every where in ruins. Here, in
such depths as these, if the sounding lead is cast it brings up these
fragile shells, and shows to the observer what profound calm must exist
here, far away beneath the ordinary vision of man.
Practice had enabled Brandon to move with much ease. His breathing
was without difficulty. The first troubles arising from breathing this
confined air had long since been surmounted. One tube ran down from the
boat, through which the fresh air was pushed, and another tube ran up
a little distance, through which the air passed and left it in myriad
bubbles that ascended to the surface.
He walked on, and soon came to a place where things changed their
appearance. Hard sand was here, and on every side there arose
curiously-shaped coral structures, which resembled more than any thing
else a leafless forest. These coral tree-like forms twisted their
branches in strange involutions, and in some places formed a perfect
barrier of interlaced arms, so that he was forced to make a detour in
order to avoid them. The chief fear here was that his tube might get
entangled among some of the loftier straggling branches, and impede or
retard his progress. To avoid this caused much delay.
Now, among the coral rocks, the vegetation of the lower sea began to
appear of more vivid colors and of far greater variety than any which he
had ever seen. Here were long plants which clung to the coral like ivy,
seeming to be a species of marine parasite, and as it grew it throve
more luxuriantly. Here were some which threw out long arms, terminating
in vast, broad, palm-like leaves, the arms intertwined among the coral
branches and the leaves hanging downward. Here were long streamers of
fine, silk-like strings, that were suspended from many a projecting
branch, and hillocks of spongy substance that looked like moss.
Here, too, were plants which threw forth long, ribbon-like leaves of
variegated color.
It was a forest under the sea, and it grew denser at every step.
At last his progress in this direction was terminated by a rock which
came from a southerly direction, like a spur from the islands. It arose
to a height of about thirty feet overhead, and descended gradually as it
ran north. Brandon turned aside, and walked by its base along its entire
extent.
At its termination there arose a long vista, where the ground ascended
and an opening appeared through this marine “forest.” On each side the
involuted corals flung their twisted arms in more curious and intricate
folds. The vegetation was denser, more luxuriant, and more varied.
Beneath him was a growth of tender substance, hairy in texture, and of
a delicate green color, which looked more like lawn grass of the upper
world than any thing else in nature.
Brandon walked on, and even in the intense desire of his soul to find
what he sought he felt himself overcome by the sublime influence of
this submarine world. He seemed to have intruded into some other sphere,
planting his rash footsteps where no foot of man had trodden before, and
using the resources of science to violate the hallowed secrecy of awful
nature in her most hidden retreats. Here, above all things, his soul was
oppressed by the universal silence around. Through that thick helmet,
indeed, no sound under a clap of thunder could be heard, and the ringing
of his ears would of itself have prevented consciousness of any other
noise, yet none the less was he aware of the awful stillness; it was
silence that could be felt. In the sublimity of that lonely pathway
he felt what Hercules is imagined to have felt when passing to the
underworld after Cerberus,
Stupent ubi undae segne torpescit fretum,
and half expected to hear some voice from the dweller in this place:
“Quo pergis audax? Siste proserentem gradum.”
There came to him only such dwellers as belonged to the place. He
saw them as he moved along. He saw them darting out from the hidden
penetralia around, moving swiftly across and sometimes darting in shoals
before him. They began to appear in such vast numbers that Brandon
thought of the monster which lay a mangled heap upon the surface above,
and fancied that perhaps his kindred were waiting to avenge his death.
As this fear came full and well defined before him he drew from his belt
the knife which Asgeelo had given him, and Frank had urged him to take,
feeling himself less helpless if he held this in his hand.
The fishes moved about him, coming on in new and more startled crowds,
some dashing past, others darting upward, and others moving swiftly
ahead. One large one was there with a train of followers, which moved
up and floated for a moment directly in front of him, its large, staring
eyes seeming to view him in wonder, and solemnly working its gills. But
as Brandon came close it gave a sudden turn and darted off with all its
attendants.
At last, amidst all these wonders, he saw far ahead something which
drove all other thoughts away, whether of fear, or of danger, or of
horror, and filled all his soul with an overmastering passion of desire
and hope.
It was a dark object, too remote as yet to be distinctly visible, yet as
it rose there his fancy seemed to trace the outline of a ship, or what
might once have been a ship. The presentation of his hope before him
thus in what seemed like a reality was too much. He stood still, and his
heart beat with fierce throbs.
The hope was so precious that for a time he hesitated to advance, for
fear lest the hope might be dispelled forever. And then to fail at this
place, after so long a search, when he seemed to have reached the end,
would be an intolerable grief.
There, too, was that strange pathway which seemed made on purpose. How
came it there? He thought that perhaps the object lying before him might
have caused some current which set in there and prevented the growth of
plants in that place. These and many other thoughts came to him as he
stood, unwilling to move.
But at last he conquered his feelings, and advanced. Hope grew strong
within him. He thought of the time on Coffin Island when, in like
manner, he had hesitated before a like object.
Might not this, like that, turn out to be a ship? And now, by a strange
revulsion, all his feelings urged him on; hope was strong, suspense
unendurable. Whatever that object was, he must know.
It might indeed be a rock. He had passed one shortly before, which
had gradually declined into the bottom of the sea; this might be a
continuation of the same, which after an interval had arisen again from
the bottom. It was long and high at one end, and rounded forward at the
other. Such a shape was perfectly natural for a rock. He tried to crush
down hope, so as to be prepared for disappointment. He tried to convince
himself that it must be a rock, and could by no possibility be any
thing else. Yet his efforts were totally fruitless. Still the conviction
remained that it was a ship, and if so, it could be no other than the
one he sought.
As he went on all the marine vegetation ceased. The coral rocks
continued no further. Now all around the bottom of the sea was flat, and
covered with fine gravel, like that which he had touched when he first
came down. The fishes had departed. The sense of solemnity left him;
only one thing was perceptible, and that was the object toward which he
walked. And now he felt within him such an uncontrollable impulse that
even if he had wished he could neither have paused nor gone back. To
go forward was only possible. It seemed to him as though some external
influence had penetrated his body, and forced him to move. Again,
as once before, he recalled the last words of his father, so well
remembered: --“If in that other world to which I am going the
disembodied spirit can assist man, then be sure, oh my son, I will
assist you, and in the crisis of your fate I will be near, if it is only
to communicate to your spirit what you ought to do--”
It was Ralph Brandon who had said this. Here in this object which
lay before him, if it were indeed the ship, he imagined the spirit of
another Ralph Brandon present, awaiting him.
Suddenly a dark shadow passed over his head, which forced him
involuntarily to look up. In spite of his excitement a shudder passed
through him. Far overhead, at the surface of the sea the boat was
floating. But half-way up were three dark objects moving slowly and
lazily along. They were sharks.
To him, in his loneliness and weakness, nothing ever seemed so menacing
as these three demons of the deep as he stared up at them. Had they seen
him? that was now his thought. He clutched his knife in a firmer hold,
feeling all the while how utterly helpless he was, and shrinking away
into himself from the terror above. The monsters moved leisurely
about, at one time grazing the tube, and sending down a vibration which
thrilled like an electric shock through him. For a moment he thought
that they were malignantly tormenting him, and had done this on purpose
in order to send down to him a message of his fate.
He waited.
The time seemed endless. Yet at last the end came. The sharks could
not have seen him, for they gradually moved away until they were out of
sight.
Brandon did not dare to advance for some time. Yet now, since the spell
of this presence was removed, his horror left him, and his former hope
animated all his soul.
There lay that object before him. Could he advance again after that
warning? Dared he? This new realm into which he had ventured had
indeed those who were ready and able to inflict a sudden and frightful
vengeance upon the rash intruder. He had passed safely among the horrors
of the coral forest; but here, on this plateau, could he hope to be so
safe? Might not the slightest movement on his part create a disturbance
of water sufficient to awaken the attention of those departed enemies
and bring them back?
This was his fear. But hope, and a resolute will, and a determination
to risk all on this last hazard, alike impelled him on. Danger now lay
every where, above as well as below. An advance was not more perilous
than an ascent to the boat. Taking comfort from this last thought he
moved onward with a steady, determined step.
Hope grew stronger as he drew nearer. The dark mass gradually formed
itself into a more distinct outline. The uncertain lines defined into
more certain shape, and the resemblance to a ship became greater and
greater. He could no longer resist the conviction that this must be a
ship.
Still he tried feebly to prepare for disappointment, and made faint
fancies as to the reason why a rock should be formed here in this shape.
All the time he scouted those fancies and felt assured that it was not a
rock.
Nearer and nearer. Doubt no longer remained. He stood close beside it.
It was indeed a ship! Its sides rose high over head. Its lofty stern
stood up like a tower, after the fashion of a ship of the days of Queen
Elizabeth. The masts had fallen and lay, encumbered with the rigging,
over the side.
Brandon walked all around it, his heart beating fast, seeing at every
step some new proof that this must be no other, by any conceivable
possibility, than the one which he sought. On reaching the bows he saw
the outline of a bird carved for the figure-head, and knew that this
must be the _Phoenix_.
He walked around. The bottom was sandy and the ship had settled down
to some depth. Her sides were covered with fine dark shells, like an
incrustation, to a depth of an inch, mingled with a short growth of a
green, slimy sea-weed.
At last he could delay no longer. One of the masts lay over the side,
and this afforded an easy way by which he could clamber upward upon the
deck.
In a few moments Brandon stood upon the deck of the _Phoenix_.
The ship which had thus lain here through centuries, saturated with
water that had penetrated to its inmost fibre, still held together
sturdily. Beneath the sea the water itself had acted as a preservative,
and retarded or prevented decay. Brandon looked around as he stood
there, and the light that came from above, where the surface of the sea
was now much nearer than before, showed him all the extent of the ship.
The beams which supported the deck had lost their stiffness and sunk
downward; the masts, as before stated, had toppled over for the same
reason, yielding to their own weight, which, as the vessel was slightly
on one side, had gradually borne them down; the bowsprit also had
fallen. The hatchways had yielded, and, giving way, had sunk down within
the hold. The doors which led into the cabin in the lofty poop were
lying prostrate on the deck. The large sky-light which once had stood
there had also followed the same fate.
[Illustration: “THE MASTS HAD FALLEN AND LAY, ENCUMBERED WITH THE
RIGGING, OVER THE SIDE.”]
Before going down Brandon had arranged a signal to send to Frank in case
he found the ship. In his excitement he had not yet given it. Before
venturing further he thought of this. But he decided not to make the
signal. The idea came, and was rejected amidst a world of varying hopes
and fears. He thought that if he was successful he himself would be the
best messenger of success; and, if not, he would be the best messenger
of evil.
He advanced toward the cabin. Turning away from the door he clambered
upon the poop, and, looking down, tried to see what depth there might
be beneath. He saw something which looked as though it had once been a
table. Slowly and cautiously he let himself down through the opening,
and his feet touched bottom. He moved downward, and let his feet slide
till they touched the floor.
He was within the cabin.
The light here was almost equal to that with-out, for the sky-light was
very wide. The floor was sunken in like the deck of the ship. He looked
around to see where he might first search for the treasure. Suddenly his
eye caught sight of something which drove away every other thought.
At one end was a seat, and there, propped up against the wall, was
a skeleton in a sitting posture. Around it was a belt with a sword
attached. The figure had partly twisted itself round, but its bead and
shoulders were so propped up against the wall that it could not fall.
Brandon advanced, filled with a thousand emotions. One hand was lying
down in front. He lifted it. There was a gold ring on the bony finger.
He took it off. In the dim light he saw, cut in bold relief on this
seal-ring, the crest of his family--a Phoenix.
It was his ancestor himself who was before him.
Here he had calmly taken his seat when the ship was settling slowly down
into the embrace of the waters. Here he had taken his seat, calmly and
sternly, awaiting his death--perhaps with a feeling of grim triumph that
he could thus elude his foes. This was the man, and this the hand, which
had written the message that had drawn the descendant here.
Such were the thoughts that passed through Brandon’s mind. He put the
ring on his own finger and turned away. His ancestor had summoned him
hither, and here he was. Where was the treasure that was promised?
Brandon’s impatience now rose to a fever. Only one thought filled his
mind. All around the cabin were little rooms, into each of which he
looked. The doors had all fallen away. Yet he saw nothing in any of
them.
He stood for a moment in deep doubt. Where could he look? Could he
venture down into the dark hold and explore? How could he hope to find
any thing there, amidst the ruins of that interior where guns and chains
lay, perhaps all mingled together where they had fallen? It would need
a longer time to find it than he had at first supposed. Yet would he
falter? No! Rather than give up he would pass years here, till he had
dismembered the whole ship and strewn every particle of her piecemeal
over the bottom of the sea. Yet he had hoped to solve the whole mystery
at the first visit; and now, since he saw no sign of any thing like
treasure, he was for a while at a loss what to do.
His ancestor had summoned him, and he had come. Where was the treasure?
Where? Why could not that figure arise and show him?
Such were his thoughts. Yet these thoughts, the result of excitement
that was now a frenzy, soon gave rise to others that were calmer.
He reflected that perhaps some other feeling than what he had at first
imagined might have inspired that grim old Englishman when he took his
seat there and chose to drown on that seat rather than move away. Some
other feeling, and what feeling? Some feeling which must have been the
strongest in his heart. What was that? The one which had inspired the
message, the desire to secure still more that treasure for which he had
toiled and fought. His last act was to send the message, why should he
not have still borne that thought in his mind and carried it till he
died?
The skeleton was at one end, supported by the wall. Two posts projected
on each side. A heavy oaken chair stood there, which had once perhaps
been fastened to the floor. Brandon thought that he would first examine
that wall. Perhaps there might be some opening there.
He took the skeleton in his arms reverently, and proceeded to lift it
from the chair: He could not. He looked more narrowly, and saw a chain
which had been fastened around it and bound it to the chair.
What was the meaning of this? Had the crew mutinied, bound the captain,
and run? Had the Spaniards seized the ship after all? Had they recovered
the spoil, and punished in this way the plunderer of three galleons, by
binding him here to the chair, scuttling the ship, and sending him down
to the bottom of the sea?
The idea of the possibility of this made Brandon sick with anxiety.
He pulled the chair away, put it on one side, and began to examine the
wooden wall by running his hand along it. There was nothing whatever
perceptible. The wall was on the side farthest from the stern, and
almost amidships. He pounded it, and, by the feeling, knew that it was
hollow behind. He walked to the door which was on one side, and passed
in behind this very wall. There was nothing there. It had once perhaps
been used as part of the cabin. He came back disconsolately, and stood
on the very place where the chair had been.
“Let me be calm,” he said to himself. “This enterprise is hopeless. Yes,
the Spaniards captured the ship, recovered the treasure, and drowned my
ancestor. Let me not be deceived. Let me cast away hope, and search here
without any idle expectation.”
Suddenly as he thought he felt the floor gradually giving way beneath
him. He started, but before he could move or even think in what
direction to go the floor sank in, and he at once sank with it downward.
Had it not been that the tube was of ample extent, and had been
carefully managed so as to guard against any abrupt descent among rocks
at the bottom of the sea, this sudden fall might have ended Brandon’s
career forever. As it was he only sank quickly, but without accident,
until his breast was on a level with the cabin floor.
In a moment the truth flashed upon him. He had been standing on a
trap-door which opened from the cabin floor into the hold of the ship.
Over this trap-door old Ralph Brandon had seated and bound himself. Was
it to guard the treasure? Was it that he might await his descendant, and
thus silently indicate to him the place where he must look?
And now the fever of Brandon’s conflicting hope and fear grew more
intense than it had ever yet been through all this day of days. He
stooped down to feel what it was that lay under his feet. His hands
grasped something, the very touch of which sent a thrill sharp and
sudden through every fibre of his being.
_They were metallic bars!_
He rose up again overcome. He hardly dared to take one up so as to see
what it might be. For the actual sight would realize hope or destroy it
forever.
Once more he stooped down. In a sort of fury he grasped a bar in each
hand and raised it up to the light.
Down under the sea the action of water had not destroyed the color
of those bars which he held up in the dim light that came through the
waters. The dull yellow of those rough ingots seemed to gleam with
dazzling brightness before his bewildered eyes, and filled his whole
soul with a torrent of rapture and of triumph.
His emotions overcame him. The bars of gold fell down from his trembling
hands. He sank back and leaned against the wall.
But what was it that lay under his feet? What were all these bars? Were
they all gold? Was this indeed all here--the plunder of the Spanish
treasure-ships--the wealth which might purchase a kingdom--the treasure
equal to an empire’s revenue--the gold and jewels in countless store?
A few moments of respite were needed in order to overcome the tremendous
conflict of feeling which raged within his breast. Then once more he
stooped down. His outstretched hand felt over all this space which thus
was piled up with treasure.
It was about four feet square. The ingots lay in the centre. Around the
sides were boxes. One of these he took out. It was made of thick oaken
plank, and was about ten inches long and eight wide. The rusty nails
gave but little resistance, and the iron bands which once bound them
peeled off at a touch. He opened the box.
Inside was a casket.
He tore open the casket.
_It was filled with jewels!_
His work was ended. No more search, no more fear. He bound the casket
tightly to the end of the signal-line, added to it a bar of gold, and
clambered to the deck.
He cast off the weight that was at his waist, which he also fastened to
the line, and let it go.
Freed from the weight he rose buoyantly to the top of the water.
The boat pulled rapidly toward him and took him in. As he removed his
helmet he saw Frank’s eyes fixed on his in mute inquiry. His face was
ashen, his lips bloodless.
Louis smiled.
“Heavens!” cried Frank, “can it be?”
“Pull up the signal-line and see for yourself,” was the answer.
And, as Frank pulled, Louis uttered a cry which made him look up.
Louis pointed to the sun. “Good God! what a time I must have been down!”
“Time!” said Frank. “Don’t say time--it was eternity!”