About a week after the occurrence of the events recorded in the last
chapter, Captain Flint and his crew were again assembled in the
cavern. It was past midnight, and they evidently had business of
importance before them, for although the table was spread as upon the
former occasion, the liquors appeared as yet to be untasted, and
instead of being seated around the table, the whole party were sitting
on skins in a remote corner of the cavern, and conversing in a
suppressed tone of voice as if fearful of being heard.
"Something must be done," said one of the men, "to quiet this darn
suspicion, or it's all up with us."
"I am for leaving at once," said Old Ropes; "the only safety for us
now is in giving our friends the slip, and the sooner we are out of
these waters the better it will be for us."
"What, and leave the grand prize expecting to take care of itself?"
asked the captain.
"Darn the prize," said Old Ropes, "the East Indiaman ain't expected
this two weeks yet, and if the suspicions agin us keep on increasin'
as they have for the last ten days, the land pirates'll have us all
strung up afore the vessel arrives."
This opinion was shared by the majority of the men. Even the Parson
who took delight in opposing Old Ropes in almost every thing, agreed
with him here.
"Whether or not," said he, "I am afraid to face death in a fair
business-like way, you all know, but as sure as I'm a genuine parson,
I'd rather be tortured to death by a band of savage Indians, than to
be strung up to a post with my feet dangling in the air to please a
set of gaping fools."
"Things do look rather squally on shore, I admit," said the captain,
"but I've hit upon a plan to remedy all that, and one that will make
us pass for honest men, if not saints, long enough to enable us to
finish the little job we have on hand."
"What is that?" enquired a number of voices.
"Why, merely to make a few captures while we are lying quietly in the
harbour or a little way up the river. That'll turn the attention of
the people from us in another direction, in the mean while, we can
bide our time.
"It can," said the captain. "We must man a whale boat or two and
attack some one of the small trading vessels that are coming in every
day. She must be run on the rocks where she may be examined
afterwards, so that any one may see that she has falling in the hands
of pirates. None of the crew must be allowed to escape, as that would
expose the trick.
"All this must take place while I am known to be on shore, and the
schooner lying in port."
This plot, which was worthy the invention of a fiend, was approved by
all but Jones Bradley who declared that he would have nothing to do
with it. For which disobedience of orders he would have probably been
put to death had he been at sea.
The plan of operations having been decided upon, the whole party
seated themselves round the table for the purpose as they would say of
making a night of it.
But somehow or other they seemed to be in no humor for enjoyment, as
enjoyment is understood by such characters.
A gloom seemed to have settled on the whole party.
They could not even get their spirits up, by pouring spirits down.
And although they drank freely, they drank for the most part in
silence.
"How is this?" shouted captain Flint, "at last have we all lost our
voices? Can no one favor us with a song, or toast or a yarn?"
Hardly had these words passed the lips of the captain, when the
piteous moan which had so startled the pirates, on the previous
evening again saluted them, but in a more suppressed tone of voice.
The last faint murmurs of this moan had not yet died away, when a
shout, or rather a yell like an Indian war whoop, rang through the
cavern in a voice that made the very walls tremble, its thousand
echoes rolling away like distant thunder.
The whole group sprang to their feet aghast.
The two woman followed by Black Bill, terror stricken, joined the
group.
This at least might be said of Hellena and the negro. The latter
clinging to the skirts of the white maiden for protection, as a mortal
in the midst of demons might be supposed to seek the protection of an
Angel.
Captain Flint, now laying his hand violently on Lightfoot, said, "What
does all this mean? do you expect to frighten me by your juggling
tricks, you infernal squaw?" At these words he gave her a push that
sent her staggering to the floor.
In a moment he saw his mistake, and went to her assistance (but she
had risen before he reached her,) and endeavored to conciliate her
with kind words and presents.
He took a gold chain from his pocket, and threw it about her neck, and
drew a gold ring from his own finger and placed it upon hers.
These attentions she received in moody silence.
All this was done by Flint, not from any feelings of remorse for the
injustice he had done the woman, but from a knowledge of how much he
was in her power and how dangerous her enmity might be to him.
Finding that she was not disposed to listen to him, he turned from her
muttering to himself:
"She'll come round all right by and by," and then addressing his men
said:
"Boys, we must look into this matter; there's something about this
cave we don't understand yet. There may be another one over it, or
under it. We must examine."
He did not repeat the explanation he had given before, feeling no
doubt, that it would be of no use.
A careful examination of the walls of the cave were made by the whole
party, but to no purpose. Nothing was discovered that could throw any
light upon the mystery, and they were obliged to give it up.
And thus they were compelled to let the matter rest for the present.
When the morning came, the pirates all left with the exception of the
captain, who remained, he said, for the purpose of making further
investigations, but quite as much for the purpose of endeavoring to
find out whether or not, Lightfoot had anything to do with the
production of the strange noises. But here again, he was fated to
disappointment. The Indian could not, or would not, give any
satisfactory explanation.
The noises she contended were made by the braves of her nation who had
gone to the spirit world, and who were angry because their sacred
cavern had been profaned by the presence of the hated palefaces.
Had he consulted Hellena, or Black Bill, his investigations would
probably have taken a different turn.
The figure of the Indian having been seen by both Hellena and the
black, would have excited his curiosity if not his fears, and led him
to look upon it as a more serious matter than he had heretofore
supposed.
But he did not consult either of them, probably supposing them to be a
couple of silly individuals whose opinions were not worth having.
If any doubt had remained in the minds of the men in regard to the
supernatural character of the noises which had startled them in the
cave, they existed no longer.
Even the Parson although generally ridiculing the idea of all sorts of
ghosts and hobgoblins, admitted that there was something in this
affair that staggered him, and he joined with the others in thinking
that the sooner they shifted their quarters, the better.
"Don't you think that squaw had a hand in it?" asked one of the men:
"didn't you notice how cool she took it all the while?"
"That's a fact," said the Parson; "it's strange I didn't think of that
before. I shouldn't wonder if it wasn't after all, a plot contrived by
her and some of her red-skinned brethren to frighten us out of the
cave, and get hold of the plunder we've got stowed away there."
Some of the men now fell in with this opinion, and were for putting it
to the proof by torturing Lightfoot until she confessed her guilt.
The majority of the men, however, adhered to the original opinion that
the whole thing was supernatural, and that the more they meddled with
it, the deeper they'd get themselves into trouble.
"My opinion is," said Old Ropes, "that there's treasure buried there,
and the whole thing's under a charm, cave, mountain, and all."
"If there's treasure buried there," said the Parson, "I'm for having a
share of it."
"The only way to get treasure that's under charm," said Old Ropes, "is
to break the charm that binds it, by a stronger charm."
"It would take some blasting to get at treasure buried in that solid
rock," said Jones Bradley.
"If we could only break the charm that holds the treasure, just as
like as not that solid rock would all turn into quicksand," replied
Old Ropes.
"Did you ever see the thing tried?" asked the Parson.
"No; but I've seen them as has," replied Old Ropes.
"And more than that," continued Old Ropes, "my belief is that Captain
Flint is of the same opinion, though he didn't like to say so.
"I shouldn't wonder now, if he hadn't some charm he was tryin', and
that was the reason why he stayed in the cave so much."
"I rather guess the charm that keeps the captain so much in the cave
is a putty face," dryly remarked one of the men.