CHAPTER XVI.
I HEAR OF A GREAT TREASURE.
I lighted a pipe and sat pondering his story a little while. There wasno doubt he had given me the exact truth so far as his relation of itwent. As it was certain then that the _Boca del Dragon_ (as she wascalled) had been fixed in the ice for hard upon fifty years, theconclusion I formed was that she had been blown by some hundreds ofleagues further south than the point to which the _Laughing Mary_ hadbeen driven; that this ice in which she was entangled was not thendrifting northwards, but was in the grasp of some polar current thattrended it south-easterly; that in due course it was carried to theAntarctic main of ice, where it lay compacted; after which, throughstress of weather or by the agency of a particular temperature, a greatmass of it broke away and started on that northward course which bergsof all magnitude take when they are ruptured from the frozen continent.
This theory may be disputed, but it matters not. My business is torelate what befell me; if I do my share honestly the candid reader willnot, I believe, quarrel with me for not being able to explain everythingas I go along.
The Frenchman snored, and I sat considering him. The impression he hadmade upon me was not agreeable. To be sure he had suffered heavily, andthere was something not displeasing in the spirit he discovered intelling the story--a spirit I am unable to communicate, as it owedeverything to French vivacity largely spiced with devilment, and tosudden turns and ejaculations beyond the capacity of my pen to imitate.But a professional fierceness ran through it too; it was as if he hadlicked his chops when he talked of dismissing the captured ship with herpeople confined below and her cabin on fire. He had been as good as deadfor nearly fifty years, yet he brought with him into life exactly thesame qualities he had carried with him in his exit. Hence I never nowhear that expression taken from the Latin, "_Of the dead speak nothingunless good_," without despising it as an unworthy concession tosentiment; for I have not the least doubt in my mind that, spite ofdeathbed repentances and all the horrors which crowd upon theimagination of a bad man in his last moments--I say I have not the leastdoubt that of every hundred persons who die, ninety-nine of them, couldthey be raised from the dead, no matter how many years or even centuriesthey might have lain in their graves, would exhibit their originalnatures, and pursue exactly the same courses which made them loved orscorned or feared or neglected before, which brought them to the gallowsor which qualified them to die in peace with faces brightening to theopening heavens. If Nero did not again fire Rome he would be equal tocrimes as great, and desire nothing better than the opportunity forthem. Caesar would again be the tyrant, and the sword of Brutus wouldonce more fulfil its mission. Richard III. would emerge in hiswinding-sheet with the same humpbacked character in which he hadexpired, the Queen of Scots return warm to her gallantries, and theStuarts repeat those blunders and crimes which terminated in theheadsman or in banishment.
But these are my thoughts of to-day; I was of another temper whilst Isat smoking and listening to the snoring of Monsieur Jules Tassard. Nowthat I had a companion should I be able to escape from this horridsituation? He had spoken of chests of silver--where was the treasure? inthe run? There might be booty enough in the hold to make a great man, afine gentleman of me ashore. It would be a noble ending to an amazingadventure to come off with as much money as would render me independentfor life, and enable me to turn my back for ever upon the hardestcalling to which the destiny of man can wed him.
Of such were the fancies which hurried through my mind, coupled withvisitations of awe and wonder when I cast my eyes upon the sleepingFrenchman. After all it was ridiculous that I should feel mortifiedbecause he supposed me crazy in the matter of dates. How was itconceivable he should believe he had lain lifeless for eight-and-fortyyears? I knew a man who after a terrible adventure had slept three daysand nights without stirring; the assurances of the people about himfailed to persuade him that he had slumbered so long, and it was notuntil he walked abroad and met a hundred evidences as to the passage ofthe time during which he had slept that he allowed himself to becomeconvinced.
I wished to see how the schooner lay and what change had befallen theice in the night, and went on deck. It was blowing a whole gale of windfrom the north-west. Inside the ship, with the hatches on, and protectedmoreover by the sides of the hollow in which she lay, it would have beenimpossible to guess at the weight of the gale, though all along I hadsupposed it to be storming pretty fiercely by the thunderous hummingnoise which resounded in the cabin. But I had no notion that so great awind raged till I gained the deck and heard the prodigious bellowing ofit above the rocks. The sky was one great cloud of slate, and there wasno flying darkness or yellow scud to give the least movement of life toit. The sea was swelling very furiously, and I could divine itstempestuous character by clouds of spray which sped like volumes ofsteam under the sullen dusky heavens high over the mastheads. Theschooner lay with a list of about fifteen degrees and her bows highcocked. I looked over the stern and saw that the ice had sunk there, andthat there were twenty great rents and yawning seams where I had beforenoticed but one. A vast block of ice had fallen on the starboard side,and lay so close on the quarter that I could have sprung on to it. Noother marked changes were observable, but there were a hundred sounds toassure me that neither the sea nor the gale was wholly wasting itsstrength upon this crystal territory, and that if I thought proper toclimb the slope and expose myself to the wind, I should behold a face ofice somewhat different from what I had before gazed upon.
But the bitter cold held me in dread, and there was no need besides forme to take a survey. All that concerned me lay in the hollow in whichthe schooner was frozen; but so far as the slopes were concerned I couldsee nothing to render me uneasy. The declivities were gradual, and therewas little fear of even a violent convulsion throwing the ice upon us.The danger lay below, under the keel; if the ice split, then down woulddrop the ship and stave herself, or if she escaped that peril she mustbe so wedged as to render the least further pressure of the ice againsther sides destructive.
I was about to go below again, when my eye was taken by the two figureslying upon the deck. No dead bodies ever looked more dead, but afterthe wondrous restoration of the Frenchman I could not view their formswithout fancying that they were but as he had been, and that if theywere carried to the furnace and treated with brandy and rubbing and thelike they might be brought to. Full of thoughts concerning them Istepped into the cabin, and, going to the cook-room, found Tassard stillheavily sleeping. The coal in the corner was low, and as it wanted anhour of dinner-time I took the lanthorn and a bucket and went into theforepeak, and after several journeys stocked up a good provision of coalin the corner. I made noise enough, but Tassard slept on. When this wasended I boiled some water to cleanse myself, and then set about gettingthe dinner ready.
The going into the forepeak had put my mind upon the treasure, which, asI had gathered from the Frenchman's narrative, was somewhere hidden inthe schooner--in the run, as I doubted not; I mean in the hold, underthe lazarette, for you will recollect that, being weary andhalf-perished with the cold, I had turned my back on that dark partafter having looked into the powder-room. All the time I was fetchingthe coal and dressing the dinner my imagination was on fire with fanciesof the treasure in this ship. The Frenchman had told me that they hadbeen well enough pleased with their hauls in the South Sea to resolvethem upon heading round the Horn for their haunt, wherever it might be,in the Spanish main; and I had too good an understanding of thecharacter of pirates to believe that they would have quitted a richhunting-field before they had handsomely lined their pockets. What,then, was the treasure in the run, if indeed it were there? I recalled adozen stories of the doings of the buccaneers, not to speak of thefamous Acapulco ship taken by Anson a little before the year in whichthe _Boca del Dragon_ was fishing in those waters; and I feasted myfancy with all sorts of sparkling dreams of gold and silver and preciousstones, of the costly ecclesiastical furniture of New Spain, of whichmethought
I found a hint in that silver crucifix in the cabin, of rings,sword-hilts, watches, buckles, snuff-boxes, and the like. Lord! thoughtI, that this island were of good honest mother earth instead of ice,that we might bury the pirate's booty if we could not save the ship, andmake a princely mine of its grave, ready for the mattock should wesurvive to fetch it!
I was mechanically stirring the saucepan full of broth I had prepared,lost in these golden thoughts, when the Frenchman suddenly sat up on hismattress.
"Ha!" cried he, sniffing vigorously, "I smell something good--somethingI am ready for. There is no physic like sleep," and with that hestretched out his arms with a great yawn, then rose very agilely,kicking the clothes and mattress on one side and bringing a bench closeto the furnace. "What time is it, sir?"
"Something after twelve by the captain's watch," said I, pulling it outand looking at it. "But 'tis guesswork time."
"The _captain's watch_?" cried he, with a short loud laugh. "You aremodest, Mr. ----"
"Paul Rodney," said I, seeing he stopped for my name.
"Yes, modest, Mr. Paul Rodney. That watch is yours, sir; and you mean itshall be yours."
"Well, Mr. Tassard," said I, colouring in spite of myself, though hecould not witness the change in such a light as that, "I felt this, thatif I left the watch in the captain's pocket it was bound to go to thebottom ultimately, and----"
"Bah!" he interrupted, with a violent flourish of the hand. "Let us savethe schooner, if possible; there will be more than one watch for yourpocket, more than one doubloon for your purse. Meanwhile, to dinner! Mystupor has converted me into an empty hogshead, and it will take me afortnight of hard eating to feel that I have broken my fast."
With a blow of the chopper he struck off a lump of the frozen wine, andthen fell to, eating perhaps as a man might be expected to eat who hadnot had a meal for eight-and-forty years.
"There are two of your companions on deck," said I.
He started.
"Frozen," I continued; "they'll be the bodies of Trentanove and JoamBarros?"
He nodded.
"There is no reason why they should be deader than you were. It is truethat Barros has been on deck whilst you have been below; but after youpass a certain degree of cold fiercer rigours cannot signify."
"What do you propose?" said he, looking at me oddly.
"Why, that we should carry them to the fire and rub them, and bring themto if we can."
"Why?"
I was staggered by his indifference, for I had believed he would haveshown himself very eager to restore his old companions and shipmates tolife. I was searching for an answer to his strange inquiry, "Why?" whenhe proceeded,--
"First of all, my friend Trentanove was stone-blind, and Barros nearlyblind. Unless you could return them their sight with their life theywould curse you for disturbing them. Better the blackness of death thanthe blackness of life."
"There is the body of the captain," said I.
He grinned.
"Let them sleep," said he. "Do you know that they are cutthroats, whowould reward your kindness with the poniard that you might not telltales against them or claim a share of the treasure in this vessel? Ofall desperate villains I never met the like of Barros. He loved bloodeven better than money. He'd quench his thirst before an engagement withgunpowder mixed in brandy. I once saw him choke a man--tut! he is verywell--leave him to his repose."
In the glow of the fire he looked uncommonly sardonic and wild, with hislong beard, bald head, flowing hair, shaggy brows, and little cunningeyes, which seemed in their smallness to share in his grin, and yet didnot; and though to be sure he was some one to talk to and to make planswith for our escape, yet I felt that if he were to fall into a stuporagain it would not be my hands that should chafe him into being.
"You knew those men in life," said I. "If the others are of the samepattern as the Portuguese, by all means let them lie frozen."
"But, my friend," said he, calling me _mon ami_, which I translate,"that's not it, either. Do you know the value of the booty in thisschooner?"
I answered, No; how was I to know it? I had met with nothing but wearingapparel, and some pieces of money, and a few watches in the forecastle.He knit his brows with a fierce suspicious gleam in his eyes.
"But you have searched the vessel?" he cried.
"I have searched, as you call it--that is, I have crawled through thehold as far as the powder-room."
"And further aft?"
"No, not further aft."
His countenance cleared.
"You scared me!" said he, fetching a deep breath. "I was afraid thatsome one had been beforehand with us. But it is not conceivable. No! weshall look for it presently, and we shall find it."
"Find what, Mr. Tassard?" said I.
He held up the fingers of his right hand: "One, two, three, four,five--five chests of plate and money; one, two, three--three cases ofvirgin silver in ingots; one chest of gold ingots; one case ofjewellery. In all----" he paused to enter into a calculation, moving hislips briskly as he whispered to himself--"between ninety and one hundredthousand pounds of your English money."
I stifled the amazement his words excited, and said coldly, "You musthave met with some rich ships."
"We did well," he answered. "My memory is good"--he counted afresh onhis fingers--"ten cases in all. Fortune is a strange wench, Mr. Rodney.Who would think of finding her lodged on an iceberg? Now bring thoseothers up there to life, and you make us five. What would follow, thinkyou? what but this?"
He raised his beard and stroked his throat with the sharp of his hand.Then, swallowing a great draught of brandy, he rose and stopped tolisten.
"It is blowing hard," said he; "the harder the better. I want to seethis island knocked into bergs. Every sea is as good as a pickaxe. Hark!there are those crackling noises I used to hear before I fell into astupor. Where do you sleep?"
I told him.
"My berth is the third," said he. "I wish to smoke, and will fetch mypipe."
He took the lanthorn and went aft, acting as if he had left that berthan hour ago, and I understood in the face of this ready recurrence ofhis memory how impossible it would be ever to make him believe he hadbeen practically lifeless since the year 1753. When he returned he hadon a hairy cap, with large covers for the ears, and a big flap behindthat fell to below his collar, and was almost as long as his hair. Hewanted but a couple of muskets and an umbrella to closely resembleRobinson Crusoe, as he is made to figure in most of the cuts I haveseen. He produced a pipe of the Dutch pattern, with a bowl carved into adeath's head, and great enough to hold a cake of tobacco. The skullmight have been a child's for size, and though it was dyed with tobaccojuice and the top blackened, with the live coals which had been held toit, it was so finely carved that it looked very ghastly and terriblyreal in his hand as he sat puffing at it.
He eyed me steadfastly whilst he smoked, as if critically taking stockof me, and presently said, "The devil hath an odd way of orderingmatters. What particular merit have _I_ that I should have been the onehit upon by you to thaw? Had you brought any one of the others to, hewould have advised you against reviving us, and so I should have passedout of my frosty sleep into death as quietly, ay, and as painlessly, asthat puff of smoke melts into clear air."
"Then perhaps you do not think you are obliged by my awakening you tolife?" said I.
"Yes, my friend, I am much obliged," said he with vivacity. "Any foolcan die. To live is the true business of life. Mark what you do: youmake me know tobacco again, you enable me to eat and drink, and thesethings are pleasures which were denied me in that cabin there. Yourecall me to the enjoyment of my gains, nay, of more--of my own and thegains of our company. You make me, as you make yourself, a rich man; theworld opens before me anew, and very brilliantly--to be sure, I amobliged."
"The world is certainly before you, as it is before me," said I, "butthat's all; we have got to get there."
He flourished his pipe, and 'twas like the flight of Death
through thegloomy fire-tinctured air.
"That must come. We are two. Yesterday you were one, and I canunderstand your despair. But these arms--stupor has not wasted so muchas the dark line of a finger-nail of muscle. You too are no girl.Courage! between us we shall manage. How long is it since you sailedfrom England?"
"We sailed last month a year from the Thames for Callao."
"And what is the news?" said he, taking a pannikin of wine from the ovenand sipping it. "Last year! 'Tis twelve years since I was in Paris andthree years since we had news from Europe."
News! thought I; to tell this man the news, as he calls it, would obligeme to travel over fifty years of history.
"Why, Mr. Tassard," said I, "there's plenty of things happening, youknow, for Europe's full of kings and queens, and two or more of them arenearly always at loggerheads; but sailors--merchantmen like myself--hearlittle of what goes on. We know the name of our own sovereign and whatwages sailors are getting; that's about it, sir. In fact, at this momentI could tell you more about Chili and Peru than England and France."
"Is there war between our nations?" he asked.
"Yes," said I.
"Ha!" he cried, "I doubt if this time you will come off so easily. Youhave good men in Hawke and Anson; but Jonquiere and St. George, hey? andMacon, Cellie, Letenduer!"
He shook his head knowingly, and an air of complacency, that would beindescribable but for the word French, overspread his face. I knew thename of Jonquiere as an admiral who had fought us in 1748 orthereabouts; of the others I had never heard. But I held my peace, whichI suppose he put down to good manners, for he changed the subject byasking if I was married. I answered, No, and inquired if _he_ had awife.
"A wife!" cried he; "what should a man of my calling do with a wife? No,no! we gather such flowers as we want off the high seas, and wear themtill the perfume palls. They prove stubborn though; our graces are notalways relished. Trentanove reckoned himself the most killing among us,and by St. Barnabas he proved so, for three ladies--passengers of beautyand distinction--slew themselves for his sake. Do you understand me?They preferred the knife to his addresses. _I_," said he, tapping hisbreast and grinning, "was always fortunate."
He looked a complete satyr as he thus spoke, with his hairy cap, greybeard, long nose, little cunning shining eyes, and broken fangs; and achill of disgust came upon me. But I had already seen enough of him tounderstand that he was a man of a very formidable character, and that hehad awakened after eight-and-forty years of insensibility as real apirate at heart as ever he had been, and that it therefore behoved me todeal very warily with him, and above all not to let him suspect mythoughts. Yet he seemed a person superior to the calling he had adopted.His English was good, and his articulation indicated a quality ofbreeding. Whilst he smoked his pipe out he told me a story of an actionbetween this schooner and a French Indiaman. I will not repeat it; itwas mere butchery, with features of diabolic cruelty; but what affectedme more violently than the horrors of the narrative was his cool andeasy recital of his own and the deeds of his companions. You saw that hehad no more conscience in him than the death's head he puffed at, andthat his idea was there was no true greatness to be met with out ofenormity. Well, thought I, as I stepped to the corner for some coal, ifI was afraid of this creature when he was dead, to what condition ofmind shall I be reduced by his being alive?