The pirate's gold
Date: 2024-07-13T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Adventure stories; Pirates -- Juvenile fiction; Treasure troves -- Juvenile fiction

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Title: The pirate's gold

Author: Gordon Stables

Release date: July 13, 2024 [eBook #74032]

Language: English

Original publication: London: Thomas Nelson and Sons, 1904

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/74032

Credits: Al Haines, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PIRATE'S GOLD ***

One fell dead, and another was shot through the shoulder.

THE
PIRATE’S GOLD

BY
GORDON STABLES, M.D., C.M.

THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, Ltd.
LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT
THE PRESS OF THE PUBLISHERS

PREFATORY NOTE.

A preface to a story like the following is hardly needed; yet it is well the reader should know that the tale is not merely founded on fact, but nearly all fact.

The buried treasure was found in Amelia, an island off the coast of Florida, about the beginning of the present year; and I daresay that, although the first, I shall not be the last to weave a bit of romance around the strange, strange narrative.

GORDON-STABLES, M.D., R.N.

CONTENTS

I. | Far over the Hills | 9
II. | A Hero in Humble Life | 22
III. | The Isles of the Beautiful West | 35
IV. | The Arch-Pirates Morgan and Mansvelt | 48
V. | Fighting on Land and at Sea | 62
VI. | Fever’s Dreams—Strange Adventure on Shore | 75
VII. | Aileen O’More—Hiding the Treasure | 87
VIII. | “A Deed of Dreadful Note”—All Sail for the Island of Gold | 100
IX. | In Search of Gold | 112
X. | An Anxious Time—The Chase and Battle—How all Ended | 125

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

One fell dead, and another was shot through the shoulder | Frontispiece
After we had left there was a terrible explosion | 48
The fellow went down like a shot, and lay there stunned and insensible | 128

THE PIRATE’S GOLD.

CHAPTER I.

FAR OVER THE HILLS.

“Oh, would I were a boy again,
When life seemed formed of sunny years,
And all the heart then knew of pain
Was wept away in transient tears.”
Sam. F. Smith.

IT was autumn—autumn, that is, as we reckon the seasons in the Scottish Highlands. For August was wellnigh at a close. The heather, it is true, still bloomed crimson and red on the mountain sides and the beautiful braes, but the days were now appreciably shorter, and hot though they might be during the day, soon after the sun went down,

“And left the red clouds to preside o’er the scene,”

the winds felt chilly, and sometimes a little raw.

This particular evening was no exception, and darkness came on a full hour sooner, with no moon and never a star to light me from the hill where I had lingered, with my beautiful Gordon setter Dash, longer than usual. I did not care to return without a fairly good bag, and the birds on the bit of shooting I called mine were getting a little wild.

I was living with the minister of Glen T—— in Ross-shire. He was an old man, and did not care to go to the hill much himself. “The scenery all around,” he used to say smiling, “is good enough for me, and I mean to live and die here without ever leaving the glen again.”

Well might he have said the scenery was good enough for him. I have never seen wilder or more beautiful in any part of the world. Had you climbed a high hill, you would have said it was a chaos of mountains; but all between these were braes clad in silver drooping birch, with here and there a patch of dark and solemn pine wood, the abode of hawks and crows, with many a bird of prey besides. Higher up was the crimson heather, while patches of snow were to be seen in clefts and hollows highest of all, and this snow never left.

But it was the multitude of small lochs or lakes that would have struck you as most marvellous of all. Not a glen that had not two or three of these, with perhaps silver streams between, and torrents or cataracts roaring down the mountain sides—the marvel being where the water came from. At times, indeed, it appeared to roll out of the very sky itself.

Well, it was late before I fired my final cartridge, and by a fluke, for I had not aimed, bagged my last bird.

Then Dash and I started on our long journey to the manse. Ten miles if a foot; but I knew the road well, and had known it from boyhood. I had been since then all over the world, and had more wild adventures than I may ever be able to describe in print; still I remembered the road, or—I believed I did. English fields and meadows may change in a few years into towns and streets, but the everlasting hills are the same for ages.

“Well, Dash, my boy,” I said, “I’m very hungry, whatever you may be.”

Dash wagged his flag of a tail to intimate that he too could do with a pick of something.

I petted and smoothed him.

“Dash,” I said, “there is a short cut across the hills and along the edge of cliff Eurna—a thousand feet perpendicular it is, Dash. It was here where a shepherd fell over after a sheep. But I’ve often skirted it in the dark, so don’t be afraid. Let us try. This will save us four miles, doggie.”

On we went now merrily enough, I singing to make the road seem shorter.

But it was getting darker and darker every minute. By the time we—that is, Dash and I, for I ever look upon a dog as a companion second only to a human being, and often far before one—reached Ault na Geoul, a wild, dark mountain stream that came roaring through a gorge not five hundred yards above, forming many a white and chafing rapid, and many a deep, dark pool, in which they said the kelpies[A] dwelt, night had so far fallen that scarcely could I see to gather a pocketful of round stones, the need for which will be seen presently.

It was just here where the short cut commenced, and once safely over the hill skirting one of the most dangerous cliffs in the Highlands, we should only have two miles further to walk.

We forded the stream, which was low at present, and soon after I found the little winding path, and we commenced the ascent.

The brae, and indeed all the hill, was covered with drooping birch. There was not a star to be seen to-night, and clouds which must have been half a mile through hung low over the mountains. Not that we could see them. Oh no; so dangerously dark was it that if I stretched my gun straight out in front of me I could not see the muzzle.

You will now find out what was to be the use of the stones I had collected. You must know, then, that the little path through the birch wood led almost directly up a hill or brae fully one thousand feet high, and directly on to and at right angles to the edge of the fearful precipice I have already mentioned. It then turned off to the right. The capital letter T will represent a plan of the situation. The shaft of the letter is the pathway leading upwards from the glen and the stream below, the upper or cross-bar is the edge of the perpendicular cliff, and close to this we must get before turning off to the right, and descending as near to the precipice edge as possible.

So long as the path led upwards I was safe enough, but by-and-by we were on level ground, and now the real danger commenced. We might walk straight over that black and fearful cliff.

In my boyhood’s days, myself and my companions, on many a dark, “mirk” night, had done as I was about to do now, and we never had an accident.

I could not have been more than from forty to sixty yards from the cliff edge, when I ordered Dash to keep close behind me. Then bending low to the ground, I threw a stone a few yards ahead of me, listening intently. I heard it fall on solid ground.

We cautiously advanced some distance, and I threw out another. That too I heard fall, and so did the third and fourth.

But the fifth made no sound.

We were close to the cliff, and it had gone over. I tried the experiment again and again to make sure; then turning directly off to the right, was overjoyed at finding the foot-way. In no part of the way down could we have been farther from this black, wet precipice than four or five yards. But the stones I threw kept us safe, and we were soon down and in a bonnie, bosky dell at the foot.

* * * * *

It has been my lot and luck in life, all through so far, to get every now and then mixed up with strange adventures. People who do me the honour to read my books often give me credit for an inventive faculty when no such credit is deserved. My drawers are filled with piles of old log-books detailing scenes and incidents that I have been mixed up in, so that I really have not to depend on imagination for my facts, as many other writers have. This is the advantage of having been a sailor, and of being still a wanderer and a rover. But little did I think to-night that my having taken that short cut would give me subject-matter for so strange—because true—a story as that which I am now writing.

Let me call the wooded dingle in which I now stood with dog and gun Glen Foogle, because that is not its name. It was a bonnie wee glen when I knew it before, and that was long, long ago. There were some green, cultivated fields here that were then let as a farm to old Donal’ Graat, who kept a few cows and a sheepie or two, and was content to live and die in that long, low, thatched hut, as his fathers had done before him.

The fields bordered a beautiful little loch of water, so brown that even the fish caught here were as red in flesh as a salmon, and many a dozen I had lifted out of it.

Clumps of dark pine trees and weeping birches were everywhere.

I had no idea that any great change had been made in this wee glen. I had heard that old Donal’ was dead, and that his son had grown up from a tow-haired, bare-headed, kilted laddie, to a tall and stalwart young man, and had enlisted into the “gallant Forty-twa;” but that was all.

In Tam o’ Shanter’s memorable ride

“As he frae Ayr ae nicht did canter,”

he was brought up with a round turn, as sailors would say, on nearing an old ruined church.

He was by this time

“Past the birks[B] and meikle[C] stane
Whare drunken Charlie brak’s neck-bane:
And thro’ the whins, and by the cairn
Whare hunters fand the murder’d bairn;
And near the thorn, aboon the well,
Whare Mungo’s mither hang’d hersel.
Before him Doon pours all his floods;
The doubling storm roars thro’ the woods;
The lightnings flash from pole to pole,
Near and more near the thunders roll;—
When, glimmering thro’ the groaning trees,
Kirk-Alloway seem’d in a bleeze;
Thro’ ilka bore [hole] the beams were glancing,
And loud resounded mirth and dancing.”

Well, Tam o’ Shanter was in a state of very great astonishment indeed, and so was I as soon as I turned a corner and opened out the terrace or green platform on which Donal’ Graat’s old-fashioned Highland hut was wont to stand.

For a few moments I thought I must be dreaming. The little table-land above the loch had been transformed into terraced gardens, and these, at this moment, were all brilliantly lit up with coloured lights and pretty Chinese lanterns, that hung from the shrubs and trees, and waved gently too and fro on the soft summer’s air.

Above all was the broad and well-lit balcony of a villa, and from this resounded not mirth and dancing, but mirth and music.

I did just as Tam o’ Shanter did—and had it been a crime to have done so, I believe I should have done it just the same—

“I ventur’d forward on the licht.”

Yes, I opened the gateway near a little pier that jutted out into the loch, and went up one flight of broad steps after another till I stood close beneath the veranda, dog at heel and gun under my arm. Not until I felt the glare of the lamp-light on my face, and knew that every eye was bent upon me, did I recognize the fact that my presence here was really an unwarrantable intrusion.

Those on the veranda may be briefly described as follows, for they were not numerous:—There were first two or three ladies of uncertain age, one seated on a footstool, the rest on light chairs; there was a brown-faced, good-looking man of probably fifty years of age, evidently a sailor every inch, leaning back in an easy arm-chair, and with a very large meerschaum in his hand and mouth. Not far off stood a most beautiful young girl, of probably fourteen or fifteen, holding a violin which she had been playing; and near her feet, reclining on a Highland plaid, was a young fellow, certainly not twenty, fondling a guitar.

I felt, of course, that an apology was needed, and proceeded to make one, lame though it doubtless appeared.

“My friends,” I said, “when I tell you that I really have no excuse for intruding on your privacy, you will wonder why I am here. I shall retire at once when I inform you that long ago, before I went to sea, I used to reside with the minister of the strath beyond here. I have come back to pay him a visit. I was shooting to-day, and being overtaken by night, took the short cut home by the precipice side.”

“What!” exclaimed the gentleman, “you skirted that fearful precipice in the pitchy darkness that others are afraid to go near by day?”

“I’m an old mountaineer,” I said, and then described how I had managed safely and well.

“There used to be no house here,” I continued, “only an old hut; and when I came suddenly on a scene of light and loveliness, I just came up through the garden to see whether or not I was dreaming. And now good-night, friends.”

“Nay, nay,” cried the gentleman. “Even if you had not told me, I could have seen you were a sailor. We are just going to dine; you must join us.”

“I am dusty and not dressed.”

“The Highland dress is always dress.”

“But the minister! he will think I have met with an accident.”

“Mungo, our ghillie, shall run over to the manse and explain all.”

I laughed now pleasantly enough and consented to stay, for indeed I was both faint and hungry.

That was as nice a little dinner as ever I remember partaking of. The mountain trout from the loch beneath were far better than salmon. There was mountain mutton, too, that had been fed in the glen. The vegetables were delicious, and so too was the fruit.

I felt certain before an hour was over that I was in a fair way to become very friendly, not only with Captain Reeves himself, but with pretty little Mina Reeves and young Don Miguel M‘Lean.

A strange name, I must admit, but the lad himself was somewhat strange. His father—dead—was half a Spaniard; his mother—at this time living in the “Granite City”—was sister to Captain Reeves.

I will tell you, reader, more about Mina and Don Miguel in my next chapter.

Here let me say that I spent a most enjoyable evening. I am a very poor smoker, but my host’s cigars were so exceedingly mild that I could not help indulging in one at least.

This would not hurt a fully-developed man. It is to boys or young men that the too seductive weed proves so very harmful, weakening the nerves and rendering the heart as soft and flabby as that of a rabbit.

Many a story of his wild life at sea did the captain tell me, and naturally enough I was not far behind in spinning a yarn (true). Not only did Miguel himself and Mina sit near us, seemingly entranced, but the old maids of uncertain age as well.

Just once or twice did we break up to listen to the Don’s guitar and the sweet, sad strains of Mina’s violin; then the instruments were laid aside for the night, and we were ordered to commence again.

“Why,” I cried at last, “it is long past ten!”

“Yes,” said Reeves, smiling; “but just keep your seat, for I sent word that you would not be home to-night.”

And really, reader, as I reseated myself I felt that I was not a bit sorry.

CHAPTER II.

A HERO IN HUMBLE LIFE.

“Is there, for honest poverty,
That hangs his head, and a’ that;
The coward-slave, we pass him by,
We daur be poor for a’ that!
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Our toil’s obscure, and a’ that;
The rank is but the guinea stamp,
The man’s the gowd for a’ that.”—Burns.

BRIGHT as the lark that rising from the dewy corn sings high at heaven’s gate were Mina and Miguel next morning at breakfast. Romantic language this may seem. Perhaps it is, only it suits me, and it suits the occasion.

Reeves, too, was pleasant and jolly; and I myself felt as happy as a sight of the Highlands in autumn never fails to make me.

Before bidding these good folks good-bye, I had to promise to come back—nay, not only that, but even to appoint the day.

When I told my friend the minister of my pleasant adventure, he said they had not been there very long. He was very old and somewhat stout, so had put off calling from week to week.

But on the very day after this he did get out his gig and pay them a visit of ceremony; and not only that, but invited the three to dinner.

“And,” he added, “I’m rather an old man, as you can see; and if I have one chief pleasure in life, it is music. Might I make so bold as to request this young lady and gentleman to bring their instruments with them?”

The young lady and gentleman would be delighted. And so now introductions were complete; and soon the most perfect and home-like friendship reigned between the manse and The Cañon, as the glen villa was called.

But for his daughter Mina, Captain Reeves would have been a somewhat lonely man, despite the beauty of his gardens and all his wild and romantic surroundings, for his wife had been dead now for some years. He had formerly resided in Aberdeen; but his health breaking down temporarily, he had come here, and was already as well as ever he had been in his life, so strong and life-giving are the breezes that blow over the Highland hills.

* * * * *

I have no great desire to describe little Mina’s beauty, though in my eyes she was very charming indeed. But there are different tastes in beauty, just as there are in straw hats or fancy waistcoats. If the reader, then, wonders what Mina was like, let him just imagine to himself the loveliest and most innocent-looking girl he happens to know, and let her pose as Mina.

Of course she and I became great friends, because, whatever else I may be, I am always frank; and I do think children like frankness. Well, I am always frank and I am always merry.

But Don Miguel’s story is a somewhat strange though not a very unusual one away up north, and I may best tell it briefly here.

I may say this, to begin with, that there really is a kind of freemasonry between sailors, else why should Reeves have told me poor Miguel’s history after only a fortnight’s acquaintance?

I may mention, too, that the nephew himself had gone away—I shall tell you whither presently. I happened to see the parting betwixt him and bonnie wee Mina, and it was indeed a sorrowful one.

She hung around his neck in an abandon of childish grief and tears.

“O don’t go, Miggie—don’t go! I cannot let you leave me!”

And the lad, with tears in his dark eyes, had really to tear himself away.

Even Reeves himself was affected.

I do not remember ever before having met so happy and bright a young fellow as Miguel. He was very good-looking, rather tall, and though somewhat slender to suit a Highlander’s taste, supple and energetic beyond compare.

At the university (Aberdeen) he excelled in all sports that required more agility than strength. He never went in for wrestling, putting the stone, or hammer-throwing. But in racing he needed handicapping. No one was in it with him at the running-high-leap. Sometimes, when sudden “funk” seized him just as he approached the bar, he ran right through under it laughing, and without even bending his neck. But he returned immediately and took it like a hero.

He was, moreover, a fairly good bagpiper, having once come in second at a meeting where some Gordon Highlanders competed. People said his legs were the best of him. He had a good “sonsy” calf, and could not have got inside those ridiculous leather drain-pipes that English mashers wear. Consequently he looked well in the kilt, and wherever he choose to compete, he took first prize in Highland dancing.

Miguel was a capital linguist, talking Spanish and French as easily as English.

But I am sure it was as a humorous conversationalist that he excelled.

No matter what kind of company he happened to be thrown into, Miguel kept them laughing just all the time. It was worth walking twenty miles just to hear him talk. And, mind, there was no braggadocio about him, very little anecdote either; if he did throw in a story now and then, he did so half-apologetically. It interrupted the flow of conversation, he used to remark.

Perhaps I ought not to say just here that Miguel was in every way a gentleman; I ought rather to let his doings prove it. Well, pardon me.

It was one beautiful day, when Captain Reeves had gone high up among the mountain tops in search of ptarmigan, that he told me something concerning the poor fellow’s life.

“Yes,” he said, “Miggie, as Mina calls him, is very, very merry in company, but I can assure you that he has his melancholy moments when alone. For although his mother and he were both in comfortable circumstances before his father’s death, they are terribly badly off now.

“It is not an uncommon story theirs. Mr. M‘Lean, my brother-in-law, was a retired advocate, and the little family lived in a most charming villa in the west-end suburbs.

“It was indeed strange that an advocate should have put all his eggs in one basket, so to speak; but like many hundreds, he had the most perfect faith in the L——r Society, its interest and its dividends, and all his savings were locked up therein.

“The society came down, as we all know, with a terrible crash, scattering its members broadcast through the land—well-to-do one day, beggars and paupers the next.

“It was far more than my poor brother could stand. The beautiful villa was given up, and its furniture sold, nothing more being left than just sufficient to furnish two rooms and a kitchen in a poorer district of the town.

“Then the poor fellow sickened and died.

“Miguel had already secured the degree of M.A. from the university, and was in his first year’s study of divinity when the crash came and his father died.

“‘Mother,’ he had said, ‘I shall now give up all idea of the church, much as I should like to be a minister, and become a schoolmaster. I thus can keep you, and we may be happy yet in a humble way.’

“But his mother answered, ‘No, no, no, boy mine. I can do something with my needle, and brother has promised to help us a little every week. You must study on till you become a minister, and I feel sure God has your church waiting for you somewhere.’

“Heigh-ho!” continued Captain Reeves, “I am but poor myself at present, though I think there is a silver cloud looming in the distance—but hereby hangs another tale. I am poor, you see; but mind you, that Miguel is not only poor, but proud as well.

“But it is genuine pride, and I believe you will like the young fellow better when I tell you that he is in my view a hero.

“During the divinity session a student who desires to enter the Established Church, and to make a good show before the examiners, has hard work enough in following out his studies, which as a rule are as dry as dust.

“But Mig adds considerably to his income, pays his fees, keeps himself in clothes, and is able to purchase his mother many a little luxury by teaching music and languages all the weary winter through, and during a part of the early summer also.”

“Brave boy!” I cried; “he is indeed a hero!”

“Ah! but wait a wee,” said Reeves; “this is not all.”

“No?”

“No, indeed; the greatest heroism is to come. Mind you, I would not care if he stayed here during the long vacation. Limited though my means are, I should not miss his food.

“But here again his pride comes in, and what do you think he has been doing during the last two months or over?”

“I fear I could not even guess.”

“Well, he has been engaged in the herring fishery at Peterhead.”

I could not help smiling.

“It is dangerous work, is it not?” I said.

“Ay, that it is, sir. It is all very well and very gay on a fine night when only a gentle breeze is blowing, and the fish seem verily eager to be caught. But ah! when a storm arises, when nets are rent in twain, when the fleet is scattered—all that can’t get speedily into harbour—and driven out to sea, then the danger is indeed great and the sufferings too.

“After a storm like this many a widow and many a fatherless bairn are left to mourn for those they will never, never see again.

“Even at the herring fishery my nephew, I am proud to say, makes himself a general favourite. He is the life and soul of his own crew; but curiously enough, the ‘young minister,’ as he is always called, assembles a crowd around him every evening on the beach, and gives a lecture that causes all hands to laugh, so that sometimes he has to wait for over a minute before he can be heard again.

“But on Sunday afternoon you would not know him to be the same man; for now he gives a sermon, and a most truthful and earnest one it is.

“Just before he left this season, an old Skyeman sent round a bag and collected a little over seven pounds for the ‘young minister.’”

“How exceedingly kind!” I said.

“Yes, and he dared not offend them by refusing.

“He just made them a little speech in gratitude, and he assures me that all the time he was speaking the tears were chasing each other adown his cheeks.”

“I cannot wonder,” I said.

“And now,” I added, “where is he off to?”

“Ah! there you have another example of his pluck and his pride,” said Captain Reeves. “He has taken a harvest; with his wages from that, and with what he made at the herring fishery, he says he will be quite opulent all winter.”

“Poor young fellow!” I remarked, “he seems hardly strong enough to wield a scythe.”

“True; but Miguel is wonderfully wiry. It is the nerve and the heart that keep young men like him up.”

“Certainly,” I said; “and luckily, as it seems, he is not ashamed of honest labour.”

“No true-hearted, no real man is ever ashamed of hard work or poverty either. It is young men like Miguel that keep this great world of ours for ever moving onward, to better things I hope and pray.”

Instead of going directly home to the manse to-night, I went to The Cañon with Captain Reeves.

There was no one here this evening save little Mina, and she and I became greater friends than ever. She even told me how old she was, seeming rather proud than otherwise that she had reached the patriarchal age of fifteen. The illuminations in the grounds on the night of my first appearance were in celebration of her birthday.

She took me quite into her confidence, as children often do, and went so far as to tell me that when Cousin Miguel got a beautiful parish and a nice church he was going to get married.

“Marry you, Mina?”

She hung her head a moment, and her pretty face was suffused with blushes. But she looked up frankly enough next minute, and said naïvely,—

“Oh, I don’t know at all, you know. Only if he marries some one else, I shall see him nearly always just the same, and be his sister like.”

I laughed a little. I knew more of the world than poor Mina.

* * * * *

That six weeks spent at the manse and on the hills formed, I think, one of the most pleasant holidays ever I have spent in life.

It was such a change from the intense and toilsome drudgery of the pen; but little did I know what it was going to lead up to.

That troubled me little just then at all events.

We boated and fished one day; we went to the hills another.

Mina went with us on almost every occasion. She was a strong and wiry little Highland maiden, as well as beautiful. I must say that she could fish as well as either Captain Reeves or I, and had a neat little gun with which she could bring down her bird on sight.

The birds were now getting wild and scarce, however, but the scenery and the delightful fresh air were worth a king’s ransom. I felt getting stronger every day, and I was now sun-browned as to knees and face. And only healthy men do tan.

Well, on these shooting excursions there was invariably a good lunch-basket to fall back upon. This was carried by the pony, which we made Mina mount and ride whenever she looked in the least degree tired.

The pony was led by a bare-legged, ragged-kilted ghillie. I used to wonder how he escaped sunstroke or the bite of an adder; for he wore no cap, and I have seen him crossing a piece of withered grass in which the snakes were wriggling and racing in every direction.

But Kennie had no fear.

When I had been little over a month in the strath, seeing the captain almost every day, both at the manse and at his own house, he told me a story that made me stare in astonishment, and believe myself back once more in the old, old days of romance, and of wild adventure by sea and land.

CHAPTER III.

THE ISLES OF THE BEAUTIFUL WEST.

“Strange—that where Nature loved to trace,
As if for gods, a dwelling-place,
And every charm and grace hath mixed
Within the paradise she fixed,
There man, enamoured of distress,
Should mar it into wilderness,
And trample, brute-like, o’er each flower,
That tasks not one laborious hour.”—Byron.

IT was one bright, beautiful afternoon, when we were alone together, far away on a lonesome, heather-clad hill-top. It was a hill that, south of the silvery Tweed, would have been called a mountain, yet as regards height was nowhere amid the chaos of giants with which it was everywhere surrounded.

This hill, however, was beautifully encrimsoned with heath and heather. The former floated over the rocks in vast red sheets: the latter, more sturdy and strong, looked boldly upwards to face the sunlit sky.

Far down beneath us we could see many a loch, and around each were the everlasting banks of silvery-stemmed, drooping birch-trees.

The sun himself was already declining in the west, and a gentle breeze was stirring the heather. It had been a hot day, and somewhat uneventful as regards sport, and as we lay here on a patch of moss, we conversed somewhat languidly; albeit Reeves had lit that wondrous meerschaum of his, and—just for once in a way—I had “bent” a cigar.

“Gordon,” said the captain at last, taking the pipe from his lips for a moment and glancing towards me—“Gordon, in you I think I have found a friend.”

“I am certain,” I answered, “that if I can be of service to you, you have only to ask me.”

“And a man,” he added, “that can be trusted with a secret.”

I laughed lightly.

“Am I not like yourself, a sailor?” I said. “I have never, however, gone secret-hunting; yet when such a thing came my way, I have always cherished and respected it. A secret belongs to the other fellow, not to you, and if you happen to have it in your possession, you have no more right to give it away than you would have to sell his watch, if he had lent you that.”

“My own sentiments to a ‘t.’ Well, that which I am about to tell you no one at present knows anything about, except Miguel. He is in the swim, and will join me, and I trust that you too will when you have heard all.”

“It is,” he added, “a story of buried treasure.” He glanced half uneasily around him as he spoke, as if afraid that even the curlews had ears, and could understand his story.

“Buried treasure?” I said, somewhat astonished, but probably doubtingly; “why, that sounds interesting. But—”

“If we can only find it,” he went on, as he gazed dreamily away over the landscape of hill and dell, of crimson and green. “If we could but find it, we—I and Mina and my sister—should be no longer poor, while brave young Miguel should be able to continue and finish his studies without further toil, or the terrible hardship of the herring fishery and harvesting.”

He seemed speaking just then more to himself or to Dash, on whose beautiful head his hand was placed, than to me. Then after a few moments’ silence and a sigh or two, he turned once more round.

“Pardon me,” he said, “but for the moment I believe, so absorbed was I in my own thoughts, that I forgot your presence. But now I shall speak.

“You are doubtless sceptical concerning this buried treasure,” he continued.

“I fear so,” I replied, smiling.

“Well, but you will not be so when you hear my yarn. Moreover, you will agree with me that it is not any one else’s gold we—and the ‘we’ must include you, my valued friend—are going in search of. No, it is my own and that of Miguel—in other words, that of our dead-and-gone forbears, or ancestors.”

“And you don’t think it will be a wild-goose chase?”

“On the contrary,” Captain Reeves replied, with a considerable amount of energy, “it will be a dead certainty.”

“But listen, if you will; it is quite a long time before sunset yet, and I am tired of wandering after these half-scared ptarmigan and grouse.”

He took from his pocket some papers as he spoke, and began turning them over.

“These sheets,” said Reeves, “which are but clean copies of the time-worn ones I have in my possession at home, date back, as far as I can find out, for about two hundred years. These papers are, in reality, excerpts from the log of my ancestor, a Spaniard of the name of Miguel Bassanto.

“They are without consecutive dates, and it is my own impression that they were written after and not during the terrible adventures and wild, stormy voyages in which he took part.

“I may tell you at once that his life at sea was intimately connected with that of several pirates, but notably that of Morgan.

“Let him speak for himself. I have changed the style of English, however.

“‘When I landed from a small trading sloop at the English port of Bristol,’ he says, ‘all my worldly goods were contained in a bundle slung over my shoulder on a stick. I was but fifteen years of age, though strong and wiry. I was very innocent too.

“‘Not very many weeks before this I had bidden farewell to a loving mother and a dear little sister, whom, alas! as things turned out, I was doomed never, never to see again. We had been very well-to-do when I was younger, but misfortunes had overwhelmed us after my dear father ventured on speculations. Then grief brought about his end.

“‘Work of a remunerative kind I failed to find in Cadiz. But I met one evening some young English officers, and naturally they praised their own country. “No one could starve in Britain,” they said. Here were food and work for all. And they were kind enough even to arrange for my passage.

“‘Well, I had enough money to last me in a humble way for many months. I obtained lodgings down near the docks, and every day I set out to look for work.

“‘Ah! all in vain.

“‘I wandered far away one afternoon, up and on to a beautiful though somewhat dreary table-land.

“‘The time was spring. There were May trees growing here and there, snowed over with blossom, and in these sang the blackbirds and the thrushes, oh, so soothingly. High up against a little fleece of a cloud was a dark little dot—a lark that poured its notes earthwards; notes of melody that made me think the little bird was almost bursting with the wild joy it could not suppress. But sweeter far to me was the song of the rose-linnets, low and beautiful, that perched upon the banks of golden gorse which here and there hugged the ground, perfuming the air all around with their delicious breath.

“‘I was really feeling happy, though somewhat lonesome, and I believe I had almost fallen asleep, when slowly across the upland I saw a young fellow coming towards me.

“‘He quite unceremoniously threw himself down within a couple of yards of the spot where I lay.

“‘“Well, comrade,” he said, “you look as if you were in the same fix as myself.”

“‘He was very gentlemanly, and evidently of good family.

“‘“I don’t know,” I answered, in as perfect English as I could command, “what manner of fix yours may be, but I came to your England to look for work, and I can’t find any.”

“‘He lowered his brow half angrily for a moment or two before replying.

“‘“It isn’t my England. Henry Morgan is my name, and I am a Welshman. The English never did us any good, and I just hate them. Only I quarrelled with my people, and have come here to begin the world on my own account.”

“‘“And will you succeed?” I asked eagerly.

“‘“Oh, I am sure to,” he answered, laughing; “but, mark me, never in England. Listen. Far, far beyond the seas, an old sailor captain who used to visit our house has told me, there lies an island belonging to the Windward group in the West Indies. It is far more beautiful than even a dream of fairyland. It is covered with mountains and forests, with silver lakes and glittering streams. But the hills are not like our wild, barren hills in Wales, for they are green-wooded to their very summits; while on the lower grounds there are splendid savannahs, and whole forests of fruit-trees, and spices rich and rare; the cocoa-nut palms wave their fringy summits in the blue sky, as if offering a banquet to the gods; guavas grow here, and around the shores groves of delicious bananas, while hardly can you walk through some parts of the island for the pine-apples that impede your progress with their thrice-fragrant fruit.

“‘“Although frequent wild storms rage across this land of delight, they serve but to make one enjoy nature all the more, when they pass away and all is again serene and quiet.

“‘“It is an island of flowers, too, whose perfume and beauty no language of mine can do justice to. But they grow and climb and trail everywhere, those sweet and lovely flowers. Then all around the island are snow-white or silvery sands, and still a little distance further off beds of beauteous coral and marine gardens, so gorgeous in colouring that the sailors believe the sea-fairies wander here when the moon’s pale light pierces the water and gladsome stars are shining high in heaven’s blue. And this is Barbadoes.”

“‘My newly-found friend paused, and I sighed.

“‘“Why sighest thou?” he said.

“‘“Your description,” I replied, “has quite entranced me; but, ah me! fain though I should be to go to so lovely an isle as this, I have no money to take me.”

“‘Young Morgan laughed right merrily.

“‘“Neither have I,” he said. “My pockets are almost empty; for though my people are well-to-do, when I quarrelled I was too proud to ask them for a coin. No, I am going out to Barbadoes to make my own fortune. It is all arranged, and we sail in five days. To pay for my passage I work on board ship, and for a few months for nothing on a farm out there. Why don’t you come along too? I like you, and we should be good friends.”

“‘I jumped at the idea.

“‘We shook hands on the spot.

“‘Then together we walked towards the docks, and boarded the great ship. She had three enormous masts, a very high poop and forecastle, and was also high out of the water.

“‘Yes, I was speedily engaged; for labour in Barbadoes was in great demand.

“‘Just a fortnight after this we were speeding away over the broad Atlantic, westwards and south, before the breath of a favouring breeze.

“‘I thought now that there was nothing like the ocean. How clear and bright the sky was! how healthful the breeze! And the great blue waves themselves seemed to rear their sparkling heads and toss their white manes in veritable pride and gladness. The waves sang to the sunlight; the sunlight kissed the waves.

“‘We saw many strange, mysterious beasts and fishes. Some were mighty in their strength beyond credence; others, that on moonlight nights reared horrid heads and necks high above the ship, looked like fiery-eyed fiends; and the men, affrighted, rushed below, or lashed themselves with rope-ends to capstan or winch, lest the awful apparition might seize and bear them away.

“‘But notwithstanding all this, and notwithstanding the length of the voyage—which, as we were often driven back by storms, and often becalmed for many days at a time, extended to months and months—both Morgan and myself were very happy.

“‘He was a good boy then; alas that he should have turned out so terrible a man years and years after this! But now morning and evening found Morgan on his knees; and he used to tell me that God was his greatest friend, and prayer his greatest comfort.

“‘We reached Barbadoes at last, and found this sunny isle of the sea everything that Morgan’s friend had described it to be.

“‘We worked out our time quietly enough, and although we got no pay, we were well fed, and everything went pleasantly.

“‘Then we were free, and soon obtained work from the planters. We were well paid now, and led a comfortable, happy life; and so here we dwelt for years.

“‘Morgan and I considered ourselves men by this time, But I could note that he was restless.

“‘“My dear Bassanto,” he said to me one day, “this is an enjoyable enough life, but it isn’t making wealth. I shall run over to Jamaica, and see if I can better my condition. If I can, don’t be afraid that I won’t come back for you.

“‘“But,” he added, “I think a roving sea-life will suit me better than anything else.”

“‘“So be it,” I said.

“‘Then we parted.

“‘I never expected to see Morgan again: far better for my peace of mind that I never had seen him more.

“‘Now at this time there was peace between Britain and Spain—peace, but no good-will. The British hated the Dons, and many cruisers were fitted out by private individuals to prey upon their commerce, and rob their ships of their golden doubloons—for the Spaniards were rich. These adventurers the British smiled upon, and really encouraged. They were pirates in reality, but so long as they confined their attention to Spanish vessels they were not molested.

“‘Well, a whole year and a half passed away. One evening, as I was returning from the plantation, I heard a shout, and next moment Morgan himself and two armed men—who looked to me like man-o’-war sailors—stood before me.

“‘“Hurrah, Bassanio! hurrah, my merry, merry friend! behold, I have not forgotten you.”

“‘Morgan was dressed almost like an admiral, with sword by his side and pistols in his belt.

“‘We shook hands, and down we sat “to swap yarns;” and though I had little or nothing to tell, Morgan’s adventures had been of the very wildest.

“‘But, alas! I could not help noticing that there was a something wanting in the Morgan who now sat beside me. Reverence for things good and eternal seemed banished; the young man was reckless, and appeared proud of it, while his conversation was such as almost made my blood run cold to listen to.

CHAPTER IV.

THE ARCH-PIRATES MORGAN AND MANSVELT.

“O’er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free,
Far as the breeze can bear the billows foam,
Survey our empire, and behold our home!
These are our realms, no limits to their sway,
Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey;
Ours the wild life, in tumult still to range,
From toil to rest, and joy in every change.”
Byron, The Corsair.

“‘AFTER Morgan had concluded the story of his wild adventures,—

“‘“Well, Bassanto,” he said, “you’ll join us, of course? Mind, we are not pirates, but cruisers under the British flag, and we have private orders to do our traditional enemy the Spaniard all the harm we can, and try to cripple his commerce.

“‘“And this,” he added, “is good for us, you know. All that our country desires is the name and tonnage of the vessel destroyed. With the gold and silver

After we had left there was a terrible explosion.

found on board they do not interfere. We divide the spoil among ourselves, and according to our rank.

“‘“I have made so much money already, that, assisted by some of my comrades, I have bought a fine ship, and armed her. The boys have chosen me to be captain of her, and she lies round here in the bay. So get ready to join us. It will be a grand thing for you, lad, and in a few years you will be able to go back and lead a quiet and peaceful life in England. What say you?”

“‘I thought for a few minutes, then held out my hand.

“‘“I will go,” I said, and we shook hands.

“‘I was to be a sailor now in earnest.

“‘But little did I know that I was to be a pirate as well.

“‘The Rover was not only a very large ship, but she had a large crew. Both crew and ship were armed in a most formidable way.

“‘She was well found in the matter of provisions, though I should have liked if less rum had been in the hold. This fiery and maddening poison the men drank, forenoon, noon, and night.

“‘The discipline was in some ways lax, in others terribly severe.

“All sorts of coarse songs might be sung fore and aft or down below. The men might speak roughly to each other, and even fight with cudgels or fists; but one day shortly after I joined, a sailor gave an officer an insolent answer. To my astonishment the latter at once drew his sword and ran him through the body. Then wiping his sword on the dead man’s clothing, calmly ordered the poor fellow’s corpse to be tossed overboard.

“‘In five minutes more his body was being torn to pieces by the sharks.

“‘Horrified beyond measure, I at once betook myself to the private cabin of Captain Morgan to report the matter. I found him drinking rum which had simply been heated in a pannikin, and molasses added to it.

“‘He made me sit down, and offered me some; but I was sick at heart, and could touch nothing.

“‘When I told him what the officer had done, he merely laughed.

“‘“Too tender-hearted, Bassanto,” he said, with a hiccup or two. “Soon get over all that. Discipline, you know, discipline mus’ be maintained—any cost. ’F a man insults you, shoot ’m down. ’Xpect you to do the same.”

“‘I did not like to wound Morgan’s feelings, nor to quarrel with him, so I sat talking for some little time on different subjects, then quietly retired. Yet to my sorrow I could see that his character was entirely changed, the result of rum-drinking and bad company, and that the once gentle and religious boy had been transformed into a bloodthirsty and cruel desperado.

“‘Our ship’s head was turned westward from Jamaica, which might have been called our headquarters.

“‘We passed betwixt the most south-westerly point of Cuba, Yucatan, and our cruising-ground was the shores of Campeachy, in the beautiful Gulf of Mexico. The weather was fiercely hot, and a wild band our cut-throat crew did look; for they kept watch naked to the waist or nearly so, with bare feet and cotton pugarees bound round their heads. Their faces and chests were burned as brown as the back of a fiddle.

“‘One day when the captain was ill, I succeeded in getting him to give up rum to a great extent, and he also put strict limits to that served out to the men.

“‘There was much growling and even threatened mutiny for a time; but after this the men cooled down, and the Rover was a far happier ship.

“‘Then came our first battle.

“‘We sighted a Spanish man-o’-war bearing down on us one morning; for we had already captured several of their merchantmen, robbed them of everything that was valuable, and after putting those of the crew and passengers whose lives we had spared into boats and turning them adrift, set fire to the vessels.

“‘But all hands were now at once called to arms, and it was lucky for Morgan that they were sober.

“‘The leviathan thought she would have an easy victory, because we had hoisted all sail, and were flying before the wind. The man-o’-war was coming up slowly, and we could hear the men’s wild cheers as they thought they should speedily overhaul us.

“‘The fact is, that we were running away in order to make better preparations.

“‘Morgan was making hand-grenades, and the men were loading the guns ready to run out, and sharpening their cutlasses till they were like razors.

“‘Then an extra supply of rum was served out.

“‘“Double the allowance,” cried Morgan, “if we sink and burn the Spaniard. If we don’t, we shall all hang to our own yard-arms, like herrings drying in the sun.”

“‘A wild, defiant shout shook the ship from stem to stern. Sails were clewed, only enough being left shaken out to manage her, and we waited for the man-o’-war to come along.

“‘We gave her a telling and terrible broadside as soon as she was near enough. As her decks were crowded, and it was unexpected, it caused fearful carnage. Away we went now before the wind again, but shortly tacked and crossed her stern.

“‘That was the most fearful volley of all, and so crippled the man-o’-war that her return volley or broadside did us little harm.

“‘We raked her again, and this time destroyed her rudder.

“‘We got near enough now to try the hand-grenades.

“‘These were simply large bottles filled with gunpowder and bullets, with a lighted fuse, the whole rolled round with cloth.

“‘They were terribly effective.

“‘Now Morgan could have sunk that ship without boarding; but he was a man of impatience and spirit, and besides, his crew longed to get their brown hands on the throats of the foe.

“‘So we hauled alongside.

“‘I never wish to see so awful a fight again, nor to hear such shrieks and cries of pain or for mercy on the one hand, or such maledictions on the other.

“‘Soon the Spaniards threw away their arms, and were hounded forward, a mere mob, to await their doom at the forecastle-head.

“‘Then the ship was plundered, and the captain and officers were hanged.

“‘“It is the death you intended for us, Señor Capitan,” said Morgan brutally; “and you shall be the first to have the hempen handkerchief around your neck. If you find it too tight, tell us after you reach the yard-arm.”

“‘I closed my eyes. I felt sick, and bitterly repented having joined the pirate ship.

“‘Next the boats were lowered. The captain himself was the last to leave, for he had lit a time-fuse attached to the magazine.

“‘In a very short time after we had left there was a terrible explosion. The air was darkened with broken masts and spars, and with the bodies of men. Then all was over; a blackened spar or two floating on top of the blue, blue sea was all that was left to tell of this fearsome battle and tragedy.

* * * * *

“‘The Rover’s head was turned once more eastwards to Jamaica. Morgan treated his men well, and gave them all a large share of the booty. I took mine as did the others. I considered I had more right to it than any one there. Was I not a Spaniard myself, and did this gold not belong to my countrymen?

“‘At Jamaica Morgan lay up for a time, under the very guns of a British fort. From his country he received praise and honours for what he had done; and concerning the cruelties he had been guilty of, not only to men, but to women, girls, and even to helpless children, never a question was asked.

“‘Morgan Meets Mansvelt.

“‘Morgan was fond of dash and show, and armed to the teeth, one day he was swaggering along the streets of Jamaica, the observed of all observers, when he was met by a gentleman who was quite as much of a hero as, if not more so than, Morgan himself.

“‘It was “Hail, fellow, well met.”

“‘But Mansvelt quickly explained that he was no longer to confine his attentions to Spanish ships at sea, but that he meant to attack cities by land, and that indeed he had a fleet of sixteen ships armed and manned, and almost ready for the sea. He had heard of the daring and fame of Morgan, and now begged him to accept the post of vice-admiral of the fleet.

“‘Morgan was overjoyed at heart, but did not show it. He preferred to act the stoic.

“‘“What is your intended cruising-ground,” he asked, “should I see my way to accept the post you would honour me with?”

“‘“The wealthy Isthmus of Panama, captain, and the province of Costa Rica.”

“‘“The cowardly Spaniards,” he added, with a scornful smile, “have a well-garrisoned island—namely, St. Catherine—to protect their coast. The smart way we shall handle their fort will be highly amusing. Pray honour me by accepting.”

“‘“Well,” said Morgan, “I want to see a bit of shore fighting, so shall accept. The booty will be plentiful, I suppose?”

“‘“You will have more wealth than ever you could have dreamt of in all your life.”

“‘So hands were shaken, and the bargain made.

“‘I myself would have remained behind when the fleet sailed, but I hoped that secretly I might be of service to some of my poor countrymen.

“‘The capture of the Spanish fort was what a soldier would have called “a pretty bit of fighting.” I myself did not land. I was in Vice-Admiral Morgan’s ship, preferring to be near him as friend and counsellor to being captain of a ship of my own. The island was now garrisoned by pirates, and by negroes who were ordered to till it most carefully, and keep the crops for the crews of the Mansvelt fleet when it should return.

“‘During this our first cruise, although many villages along the coast were destroyed, and many demoniacal cruelties enacted, little real harm was done to the country. Then the Governor of Panama organized an expedition to retake the island and fort, which it did one beautiful Sabbath morning, killing many of the pirates, and chasing the rest to the woods.

“‘Morgan was at this time in Jamaica. Mansvelt himself had gone with one ship to that hornet’s nest of pirates, Tortuga, and there, being seized with sudden illness, died.

“‘And now Morgan assumed entire command of the fleet, and a brave one it was—over a dozen huge ships marvellously well armed, and with crews in the aggregate numbering a thousand men.

“‘A thousand desperados! A thousand fiends incarnate, as the sequel will show.

“‘There was nothing that these pirates would not have dared and done. Some even proposed attacking and sacking the wealthy city of Habana; but wiser counsels prevailed, and the scheme was abandoned. But the inland town of Puerto Principe was marked down for attack.

“‘This town lies on the south side of Cuba, and was even then in a flourishing condition; but never expecting to be attacked, was not in much of a condition for defence.

“‘We sailed, and after a speedy passage anchored one evening off the coast.

“‘Had the admiral—Morgan—had the slightest inkling of what I was now about to do, and did do despite the fact of our long friendship, I should have been hanged without a trial.

“‘There was on board a Spanish prisoner; him I determined to liberate, and send to the far-off town to warn the poor inhabitants of the danger that was hovering over them.

“‘Luckily for me, the man lay in an out-of-the-way corner of the second deck, the night was very dark, and the men were carousing.

“‘I cut his cords. He divested himself of most of his clothing, and dropped silently out of a porthole into the sea.

“‘The danger, he afterwards told me, was extreme; for he could see the sharks in dozens about him, with eyes like fire, and fins and skins of phosphorescent light. Every moment he expected to be dragged under, and when he at last found himself on the beach he swooned. On recovering, he prayed long and earnestly, then set out on his mission.

“‘Little pathways through the forest guided him safely at last to the city.

“‘The consternation caused by his tidings was dreadful; but while the women and children were hiding the treasures, the governor himself had collected every man able to carry arms.

“‘They cut down trees and formed ambuscades.

“‘But when next day Morgan, with his army of nearly a thousand fiends incarnate, came up, they avoided these, and came upon the doomed city by a more circuitous route.

“‘The battle lasted for nearly four hours, and was both desperate and bloody.

“‘Then came the capture and the sack.’”

My friend Captain Reeves paused just here.

“I have not the heart,” he said, “to read to you an account of the torture of men, women, and children—it is harrowing in the extreme—nor of the foul and awful crimes the pirates committed before hurrying southwards with their booty for fear of being cut off.”

“‘But,’ says my ancestor, Bassanto, ‘the pirates quarrelled among themselves now, reducing Morgan’s fleet to only nine ships, with about five hundred men.

“‘Yet so daring was the fellow that he determined, even with this handful, to attack, sack, and plunder the wealthy town of Puerto Velo.

“‘Although the governor and his troops fought most heroically, the pirates, literally with halters round their necks, fought with even greater ferocity. At last the huge fort was taken, and every soldier put to the sword, and the city itself was captured. Many of the inhabitants fled to the woods, but enough were driven into the castle—nuns, mothers, maidens—to enable these awful fiends to hold such a wild carousal that even to think of makes one’s blood run cold.’

“And now, my friend,” said Captain Reeves, “let us close the narrative for a time, and return home. You shall dine with me to-morrow night, for young Miguel himself is coming, and we will have merriment and music enough to drive the memory of these terrible crimes from our minds.”

“Besides,” he added, “the strange story takes a new turn, and this it is I want your advice concerning.”

We soon after said good-bye, and Dash and I went back to the manse.

CHAPTER V.

FIGHTING ON LAND AND AT SEA.

“Ay, at set of sun
The breeze will freshen when the day is done.
Sling on thy bugle; see that free from rust
My carbine-look springs worthy of my trust;
Be the edge sharpened of my boarding-brand,
And give the guard more room to fit my hand.
This let the armourer with speed dispose;
Last time it more fatigued my arm than foes.”
Byron.

I HAD read books about Morgan before making Captain Reeves’s acquaintance, but somehow, hearing the dreadful story told first-hand, as it were, from the log of one who had seen the many fearful tragedies, it seemed all the more realistic and awful.

It was some time before I fell asleep that night, for from thinking of the atrocities committed by pirates my mind turned to the fearful and indescribable cruelties perpetrated upon British women and children in the inhuman Indian Mutiny.

Naturally enough there arose a question that did not tend towards inducing

“Tired Nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep”—

namely, Why should God, our God, permit such cruelties to overtake innocent girls and little children? But, after all, what are we that we should dare to arraign the Maker of heaven and earth before the tribunal of our imperfect knowledge? I live in hope—a hope which nothing, I trust, shall ever be able to take from me—that all shall yet be revealed in another and a better world; all made clear as the noonday sun.

* * * * *

When I went over next evening, accompanied by Dash as usual, I found all the trees lit up as they had been on the first night I had wandered hither.

Don Miguel had, therefore, I felt sure, already arrived. Nor was I mistaken.

Here he was, looking as bold, handsome, and interesting as ever, only sun-browned beyond all belief: for betwixt the Spanish blood or skin and the sun an affinity seems to exist.

Miguel hastened to shake hands with me.

“You look happy and jolly,” I said.

“Yes, and I am happy and jolly,” he replied. “Who wouldn’t be who has been favoured as I have been? My harvest was but a holiday and all the girls fell in love with me. I had plenty to eat and drink, and every evening they all danced while I played. Then, to finish off, we had a ball—girls all in white, lads mostly in the kilt, and a nice string band; so I myself could dance, and did dance till morning light.

“They all said I was the merriest minister ever they had met, and if only their own parish parson came to a dance now and then, and didn’t carry quite so long a face, they would go to his church much oftener than they did.”

“Bravo, Miguel!” I replied. “Well, I for one am happy to see you; and I am like yourself, for I do not believe we were sent into this world to moan and groan, and shake our faces from side to side till they look as long as to-day and to-morrow.”

“Ah, well,” I added, “I am sure you will give us a song to-night.”

“That will I, with the greatest of pleasure.”

“But dinner first,” cried Captain Reeves, laughing. “The mind, you know, takes its cue from the state of the body.”

And a most tasteful and delightful little dinner it was which was now placed on the captain’s hospitable board, and everybody, including even Mina, did ample justice to it.

I have always thought that the violin and the Spanish guitar were made for each other—made to be wedded to each other, as it were, in sweet accord. I could not help thinking so to-night, as the soft, delightful music—madly merry one minute, tender and plaintive next—filled all the room.

But the instruments were laid aside at last, and then, encouraged by a few questions put to him by Captain Reeves and Mina, Miguel entertained us with a delightful narrative of harvest life at “An Auld Fairm Toon.” That is the quaint title he gave it.

It was indeed a laughable and delightful yarn, and had I been able to take it down just as it fell from the young fellow’s lips, it should have been all in print somewhere ere now.

But at last Mina, showing some signs of fatigue, was advised to retire.

There was no sleepiness about any one else, not even about honest Dash, whose eyes were very open indeed.

Perhaps he was wondering what kind of sport he should have next day among the hills, and after the ptarmigan and grouse.

Captain Reeves sat for a short time holding the bowl of that great meerschaum in his hand, and blowing a cloud which quite hid the upper part of his body. Seeing his feet and his legs up as far as the knees, we came to the conclusion, from a process of analogical reasoning, that he was behind that cloud somewhere; and presently we knew we were right, for an arm appeared, and the pipe was laid down. Then the fog cleared away, and there was Reeves smiling.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said; “I always think best when smoking.”

The captain was a most temperate man, and now what he called his “brew” was a very small allowance indeed of the wine of Green Caledonia. He sipped it slowly.

Then he arose, and soon returned to the table with the weather-stained old piratical log itself. Considering that it was fully two hundred years of age, it was certainly very well preserved indeed.

“I am only,” he said, “going to read a few snatches more of Morgan’s fearful life. I consider it is too horrible for any young man to listen to. However, there is a ring of truthfulness in every line penned by our ancient ancestor, Captain Bassanto; and when he comes down to the hiding of the treasure, he gives very definite instructions indeed. The only wonder is that no one has ever found it before now.”

“Can you be sure,” I asked, “that this is not the case?”

“Quite certain, my friend Gordon; because this log had been lost for more than a hundred years, and there is ample evidence to show that it has never been tampered with or even read.”

“Well, I shall epitomize,” he continued. “I have myself carefully read the horrors described with no unmasterly hand over and over again, till they interfered even with my sleep at night, and I have then had to hide the log even from myself, and try to banish its awful story from my mind by working hard in the garden or climbing the mountains that rise high on every side of this glen.

“Bassanto says: ‘I sent much of my own gold home, and I knew it was safe. Fain would I have gone home myself to end my days in peace, and only the thought that by remaining under Morgan’s command I might be able to save the lives of some of my countrymen now and then prevented me from retiring.

“‘The wrath of Heaven,’ continues my ancestor, ‘seemed to be opened at last against those inhuman wretches. Pestilence broke out, and many died in the most awful agonies. Still the torture of the people in order to get them to reveal the hiding-places of their treasure was continued, and it is terrible to think of the sufferings endured by the poor wretches. Death to me personally would at times have been welcomed, and more than once have I clutched my dagger to plunge into the black and hardened heart of my friend Morgan himself. No shark of the ocean, no panther of the jungle, could have been more callous than he; while his pirate crews regarded the sufferings and the struggles of the men or maidens under torture as calmly and heartlessly as the fisherman beholds the worm that wriggles on his hook.

“‘Morgan was a man of very great skill—a man made to command men. Had his talents been expended in a good cause, he might have been a blessing to the world, instead of a firebrand and a curse.

“‘The skill with which he could manœuvre his troops was well seen before he left Puerto Velo. For even while the awful plague was still raging, he found out that the Governor of Panama was coming on to attack him and cut off his retreat. He hurriedly brought his ships into the harbour and placed all the collected plunder on board.

“‘Quickly indeed did he repair the ports and remount the guns. Then, with a well-armed but small and well-chosen force, he sallied forth to give battle to the governor.

“‘They hid miles from the town, in a dense, impenetrable jungle, through which the narrow road went winding, every man making a loophole where he could command the advancing foe, certain that his bullet would find a billet in some bosom.

“‘The Spaniards numbered about five hundred, and expecting no such ambuscade, were soon in the very centre of this terrible hornet’s nest.

“‘The signal was given by Morgan himself. No more fatal volley was ever fired. Not a pirate fired at the same man, and one hundred Spaniards bit the dust.

“‘The confusion and terror were fearful to witness, for I myself was there, though I fired but in blank.

“‘Again and again the pirates, invisible themselves, poured in their volleys. Alas! how my heart bled for my poor countrymen. Had I seen Morgan then, I should certainly have slain him. The victory was complete. The Spaniards were almost annihilated. The wounded were murdered and robbed, and then we returned to the pestilential city.

“‘But Puerto Velo was at last left to its fate: it was destroyed by fire, sword, and pestilence, and by torture, out and out. Fiends from the lower regions could not have behaved with greater cruelty.

“‘And the reward of the pirates for all the crimes they had committed was but little. They found this out when they came to divide the spoil. This they did in a solitary harbour off the coast of Cuba.

“‘We next returned to Jamaica, and were received with public rejoicings by the people. We were made heroes of, and the excesses of the pirates, in drinking, gambling, and worse, were so great that their gold was nearly all squandered in a few weeks or a month. Morgan thought it time then to plan some other expedition.

“‘Tortuga was at this time a hot-bed of pirates.

“‘Morgan went to Isle de la Vaca, on the southern-most shore of Hispaniola, and was speedily refitted and remanned.

“‘By-and-by there came from Tortuga a big Frenchman who had no less than three-and-thirty guns. Trade was bad, however, and the crew wanted to turn their talents to buccaneering. Morgan had his eye on that ship, and asked them to join his next expedition. The officers, however, would have none of him. Little did they know the craft and cunning of this immortal pirate. He had found out that they had taken provisions from an English ship at sea, paying only in paper money. This was enough. He invited the captain and officers on board to a carousal, and charging them with piracy, when they were still drinking, Morgan clapped them in irons and seized their ship.

“‘There was a fleet of merchant ships (Spaniards) expected every day off Saona Island, near to San Domingo, and thither they determined to sail. A terrible carousal followed on board the captured Frenchman. The drunken men were actually staggering about firing volley after volley by way of rejoicing.

“‘Suddenly the magazine in the fore part of the ship blew up with terrible force.

“‘Although those carousing in the cabin escaped with their lives, all forward perished, and this was the terrible end of the captured ship.

“‘But Morgan had still fifteen ships and nearly a thousand men, and recruiting their provisions from an English ship, they pressed on to Ocoa, on the south shore of the great island of Hispaniola.

“‘Seven of his ships had not come up when Morgan and I reached Ocoa, so we determined to wait for them.

“‘Here we ran a risk of being starved; for the Spaniards, although unable to attack, drove away all the cattle. Here, too, a band of fifty men sent on shore to hunt were surrounded by the Spaniards and almost decimated.

“‘Morgan himself landed with two hundred men to take full vengeance, but could find no one to fight with, and had therefore to return, but he burned every house or hut he came across.’”

Captain Reeves paused, and began to turn over the pages of the old yellow-leaved log somewhat languidly.

“I must say,” he observed, “that my ancestor has spared no pains to make the history of this great pirate as exact and complete as possible, and I have material from which one day to build a book.

“Many of the writers on the pirates of the Spanish Main differ, and doubtless several of them are dependent upon their imagination for their facts. On the contrary, this Miguel Bassanto, our far-distant ancestor, seems to be nothing unless truthful and punctilious.

“The more I read about Morgan, afterwards made Sir Henry Morgan by the British Government, the more I admire his skill as a commander of forces, either by sea or on land, and the more I abhor and detest his character. To call him inhuman is to pay him a compliment. He was more than inhuman, he was a fiend incarnate, and instead of being honoured with high rank, made Governor of Jamaica, and Governor of Gibraltar, he ought to have been burned alive over a slow fire.

“At Maracaybo, another writer tells us, all kinds of inhuman cruelties were practised upon the innocent people. Those who would not confess, or who had nothing to declare, died under the hands of those tyrannical men. Those tortures and racks continued for the space of three whole weeks, during which time the pirates ceased not to send out daily parties of men to seek for more people to torment and rob. They never returned home without booty and riches.”

“Thank God,” I said, “we live in less perilous, less terrible times.”

“Ah! thank God indeed.”

“But now I come to the last adventure described in this book, and it is this to which I wish to draw your particular attention, as it is connected with the buried treasure which I hesitate not again to say belongs to me and mine.

“If we set about the business properly and scientifically, I do not doubt for a single moment that we shall be able to unearth it.—Then, my dear nephew, my sister’s struggles, and yours too, will be at an end.”

CHAPTER VI.

FEVER’S DREAMS—STRANGE ADVENTURE ON SHORE.

“So when a raging fever burns,
We shift from side to side,
And ’tis a poor relief we gain
To change the place but keep the pain.”

“But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.”
Campbell.

“‘THE fiendish atrocities and cruelties of the terrible pirate Morgan,’ begins Miguel Bassanto, in this final chapter of his log, ‘had almost worn me out at last, and when cruising around Cuba, up the Gulf of Mexico, and along the shores of Florida in search of Spanish ships and gold, I was laid down with fever, and it was while thus prostrated that I tried to take into review all the events of my past life during those many, many years. Ought I to have remained with Morgan at all? I had often restored him to life and health when laid low with the illness that never failed to follow his drunkenness and awful carousals. Had I been doing my duty in acting thus? Would it not have been better for my poor, oppressed, and persecuted countrymen had I let him die, or even slain him some day in his tracks? But no; I had ever shuddered at the idea of committing murder, and by continuing to sail with Morgan I had, unknown to him, so worked and plotted and schemed as to save many a Spanish life, many a Spanish ship, and more than one town or village.

“‘Even when awake I could not accuse myself of remaining with Morgan’s fleet to do aught save good, and I did not blame myself for having spared his life, nay, even saved it many times, and oft for the simple reason that he trusted me most implicitly. I could not kill even a savage dog if he trusted me.

“‘But it was not all daylight with me during this burning fever. We were lying at the time in a lonesome little harbour off the southern coast of Cuba, and oh, when night fell—night and darkness, night but not silence, for sunset but heralded the commencement of orgies fore and aft that lasted long into the middle watch—then my spirits fell to zero. I felt no comfort in life, and yet I desired not to die. But when I did drop off to sleep at last, then the sufferings my dreams gave me were ten times more terrible than those of my waking hours.

“‘Fighting and bloodshed were ever before me, and, worse than all, the awful torture of innocent maidens and beautiful children. I daresay I had ever a well-balanced mind, and one which it was difficult to unhinge, else, when starting with gasp and shriek from dreams like these, I would have hurried on deck and thrown myself to the sharks that swarmed everywhere around us.

“‘One day Morgan, who, strangely enough, was sober, came off from the shore accompanied by a curious little half-caste, partly Spaniard, partly negro.

“‘“He is a native doctor, Miguel,” said the captain. “We are such old friends that I could not bear to see you die.”

“‘This was the only real act of kindness I had ever known Morgan perform.

“‘I thanked him, and so weak was I that the tears came trickling adown my cheeks.

“‘I held out my trembling hand to the native doctor, and he felt it, then pressed it down by my side.

“‘After examining me still further, he shook his head gravely and took Morgan aside, and as he spoke to him I saw Morgan’s face fall.

“‘“Let me know the worst,” I said, when the native doctor left.

“‘“He says you are at death’s door, but he will make an effort to save you.”

“‘And sure enough the little man came speedily back. He gave me medicine that was both bitter and nauseous. He ordered me wine and raw meat, and he gave me some soothing draft which entirely banished the fearful dreams.

“‘When he came to see me next morning, he patted my cheek and smiled.

“‘And sure enough from that very day I began to get hopeful, and health itself came close upon the heels of hope, so that in a short time I was myself again.

“‘Soon after this we went to sea once more, for we had got word of a bullion-ship, which, with her consort, a protective man-o’-war, might be expected off the coast of Florida in a month’s time.

“‘The news came in a swift sloop direct from Gibraltar—a sloop that was carrying letters and dispatches to British troops and sailors in the West Indies.

“‘“The gold doubloons on board that ship,” said the messenger, “were like ten great fortunes rolled into one.”

“‘Morgan believed him implicitly, and indeed the result showed that his statement was perfectly true. But the news had one very strange effect upon the arch-pirate. He became to a very great extent a reformed man as far as drinking was concerned.

“‘He had at this time a bold little fleet of seven well-armed ships, with about five hundred and twenty men in all.

“‘Now he assembled the captains and officers of these on board our own ship. He gave them rum to drink, as was the custom; then he explained to them the dangerous nature of the expedition he was about to undertake, for the man-o’-war was larger than any he had yet encountered, and able, unless soon crippled, to blow his ships, one by one, out of the water. If, however, they could sink her and capture the bullion-ship, great indeed would be their reward.

“‘“And now, men,” he continued, “it cannot have escaped your notice that I have drunk but very little to-night. Only sober men can carry out an enterprise like this with any hope of success. I charge you, therefore, to keep your crews sober, and your rum under lock and key. You all know me by this time, and you know I am a man of my word.”

“‘Here he placed a brace of pistols on the table;

“‘“You see these little guns,” he said. “If when cruising to meet the ships I come on board and find any drunkenness on any ship, I shall with my own hand shoot the captain of that vessel through head or heart, and throw every officer on board of her into irons.”

“‘And every man gave his word there and then that Admiral Morgan should be obeyed to the hilt.

“‘Then they separated, each lot of officers repairing to its own ship.

* * * * *

“‘The adventure I have now to relate is wholly and solely my own,’ continues Bassanto. ‘The admiral had spread his ships pretty well out along the shores of Florida, and they were to cruise backwards and forwards, to and fro, as it were, and thus go slowly north. There was no hurry. A signal-gun fired from one would be heard three miles away, and each ship would repeat it in turn, so that union could speedily be effected.

“‘But the giving up of his customary stimulant had had a very depressing effect upon Morgan, and arriving off the shores of a beautiful and wooded island called Amelia, four miles from Florida, he determined to send me off for a day to shoot, and thus bring back for him some dainty that his stomach could relish.

“‘Though only about four miles wide and sixteen long, this island was not supposed to be very safe, owing to a tribe of warlike Indians who inhabited it. It was said, however, that there were one or two British agricultural families here, so that, despite any hostility the Indians might evince, I expected a hearty welcome. I was to take two well-armed men with me, and stay for one night on the island.

“‘As I stepped on shore a feeling came over me that I was quite at a loss to account for. A kind of wave of extreme happiness—I am unable otherwise to express it—stole over my heart and brain. I experienced for the time being a newness of life. Why had I spent all the long years of the past on board the blood-dyed, pestilential ships of the arch-pirate Morgan, when there was so much real joy and happiness everywhere in nature?

“‘I never saw the ocean brighter, bluer, or calmer than it was to-day; it reflected, too, the colour of the cerulean sky, with its patches of green low down by the horizon, and its slowly-sailing fleecy cloudlets. Then the still, quiet woods and jungles, many of the trees draped to their very tops with a wealth of beautiful climbing wild flowers, and the patches of sward between, also spread with a floral carpet—flowers, flowers everywhere; and birds as well, birds that vied in the splendour of their plumage with the flora around them. Oh, how I wished just then that there was no necessity for me to evermore put foot on murder’s awful decks! I confess I had half a mind just then to give up even Morgan. I had money enough in the Jamaica bank to live a life of ease as far as earthly comforts were concerned. I—but no, no, no, I must not give up my trust yet a little; I must not throw Morgan over. So long as his life lasted there would be hope of repentance.

“‘“Hide the boat in a clump of trees, my lads, and follow me.”

“‘“Ay, ay, sir,” one replied cheerily.

“‘In less than an hour’s time we were on the hunting path.

“‘I was surprised, however, to find so little game. We had wandered on for many miles, and I only found two or three birds that in any way resembled game.

“‘These I did not shoot. I preferred to take stock of the island to-day, camp by the sea-shore all night, sinking some creels which I had brought with me, and thus secure for the sick pirate some crabs and other shell-fish, as well as a few birds, which would have gone bad if killed this forenoon.

“‘It must have been nearly three o’clock, and although we saw some Indians at a distance, and had even come in sight of an Indian village of wigwams low down by the side of a hill and near a meandering stream, there were no other signs of life.

“‘Judge then of my horror and astonishment when suddenly from a neighbouring thicket there arose the most pitiful screams for help. The voice was a girl’s, and she was evidently English.

“‘“Follow me, lads,” I cried, drawing my sword.

“‘Next minute I found myself in a kind of glade. Here, close to a fire, were no fewer than five almost naked savages, their arms lying near by. They were as fearsome as a nightmare, and covered with war-paint.

“‘But near by, and tied to a tree, was a young white girl, evidently a captive, for whom torture unmentionable was being prepared.

“‘Although convulsed with terror and bedewed with tears, I could not help thinking—and thoughts travel quickly—that she was exceedingly beautiful.

“‘But I and my merry men gave those savages no time to think.

“‘I had a revolver in each hand. One fell dead at my first fire, and another was shot through the shoulder.

“‘They quickly fled, and with a blood-curdling yell which spoke of revenge to come.

“‘Then I turned my attention to the poor girl. My men cut her cords; but her hands were so swollen as to be for a time paralyzed. So, too, were her feet, so that even to stand was impossible.

“‘“To Heaven and you,” she said, as I lowered her down on a bank of green grass—“to Heaven and you I owe my life.”

“‘“Do not talk too much just yet,” I said. “The savages will not return. We should welcome them warmly if they did. But surely it was Providence who sent us here.”

“‘Then I made her swallow a little of something from my flask. It was well watered, and could not hurt.

“‘She revived a little, and with her own handkerchief I wiped the tears from her eyes and face. Then I chafed her hands and tiny feet, and told her she must rest until my men made a kind of litter to carry her to her father’s home, which, she said, was very many miles away.

“‘Then she told me how the abduction had occurred.

“‘There dwelt here, she said, a tribe of what the few whites on the island called the Amphibious Indians, because they lived as much on the water, or even in it, as upon dry land. They were implacable savages, but the whites and they had always been on the most friendly terms till now, and Red Toad, the chief, often came to the Hall, as their home was called, to beg for medicine for his braves, and never failed to bring fish and game. The Indians who had stolen the girl were irreclaimable renegades.

“‘“Oh,” she cried, tears beginning to flow afresh, “but for your fortunate arrival the awful torture would have already commenced. Then they would have buried me, and no one could have told what had become of me.

“‘“I came away from home to-day to wander in the woods and cull wild flowers. The servants will not even yet miss me. Father is in Florida, but returns to-night. Mother, did you say? Ah! she is dead and gone years ago, and I am the only child. But never before have the savages attempted to molest us.”

“‘Well, if there was one thing more than another that I now felt certain about, it was this: I had fallen suddenly but deeply in love with this beautiful and innocent young girl.

“‘I lifted her gently into the litter the men had prepared. How light she felt in my strong arms! Perhaps I held her therein just one brief second longer than was necessary.

“‘I walked and talked by the litter all the way, I did not tell her all my terrible story just then, however.

“‘I should wait.’”

CHAPTER VII.

AILEEN O’MORE—HIDING THE TREASURE.

“Ever of thee I’m fondly dreaming,
Thy gentle voice my spirit can cheer;
Thou wert the star that, mildly beaming,
Shone o’er my path when all was dark and drear.”
Old Song.

“Gold! gold! gold! gold!
Bright and yellow, hard and cold.”

“‘AILEEN—for that was her beautiful name—was like a child in my hands, and willing to do what I told her. Her governess—a lady of thirty, and kind, almost motherly—brought me vinegar and water, and we bathed the girl’s hands, much to her relief.

“‘Then I said she must lie down for an hour or two. I and my men would bivouac near to the sea-shore and return to-morrow.

“‘She would not hear of the scheme.

“‘“No, no, no,” she cried. “Your men are being well used, and they are happy. The negroes will amuse them, dance and sing to them, and find them good beds; and you must stay here to-night. I could not sleep if I thought you were out under the trees in the dark forest.”

“‘My soul seemed to thrill at these words.

“‘“And father, you know, will be back before sundown. Do you promise, Mr. Bassanto?”

“‘“I will, if you call me Miguel; no one calls me anything else.”

“‘“Well—Miguel,” she said, blushing a little.

“‘“Then I will stay,” I said, right heartily.

“‘Aileen was down by five, quite recovered, and presiding over the tea-table. She looked radiantly lovely, I thought. The tea was good, but I hardly think I tasted it, and how many cups I drank I really do not know.

“‘Well, Mr. O’More himself arrived just as the sun was going down like a huge ball of red fire, and apparently setting the forest trees in flames.

“‘A hale, hearty, red-faced Irishman, probably some sixty years or over.

“‘We told him the story briefly, and the tears started to his eyes.

“‘“God bless you, my son,” he cried, seizing my hand. “It was heaven itself that sent you.”

“‘Then he held out his arms, and Aileen was pressed to his breast.

“‘“I’ve never had trouble before—that is, not since the first days, when I and my dear wife landed here and began to form the plantation. Ailie was very young then. But Red Toad has ever been faithful, and has done us many a good turn. Once some pirates landed here. In two hours Red Toad had assembled his braves and cut off their retreat—and their heads too, for not one escaped alive. They are all buried here. They then seized the ship, and having landed everything useful, they burned her.”

“‘“I wonder,” I thought to myself, “what this honest fellow will think when he knows he is entertaining pirates at this very moment.”

“‘“Red Toad was a fearful savage at one time,” he continued; “but we have converted him to Christianity, and Ailie there has actually taught him to read and write.”

“‘Presently an old white-haired negro entered. “Sah,” he said, “Red Toad he ’rrive, sah. Anoder red man too, sah. Cally basket. Say he bling you one boo’ful gift.”

“‘O’More and I went out to see the chief.

“‘Certainly he was by no means prepossessing; and so tall and broad and strong was he, that he would have made a foeman worthy of any one’s steel.

“‘His English was as perfect as that of any Indian I have ever heard speak, and his politeness and apologies for the indignities which his “rascally braves” had offered to Miss O’More were both pretty and profuse.

“‘He bent his head in his hands, too, and begged most earnestly for forgiveness.

“‘“And you will punish these renegades?”

“‘“Punish they are. On’y five bad men in my tribe. One shot by he,” he pointed to me. “De oders I flog.”

“‘“But, my dear Red Toad, what is to prevent the same thing from occurring again?”

“‘“Dear white chief, snake is one ugly thing, but snake not much danger if he not able to put on his head in the morning. Behold the gift I bring you!”

“‘He lifted his finger, and two red Indians advanced solemnly, carrying a basket. They removed the grass that hid the contents, and I confess that I, for one, was shocked to behold the heads of the very savages we had attacked in the clearing. The sardonic grin of death still overspread their features. It was a sight I shall never forget.

“‘O’More briefly told the chief he was forgiven, and beckoned them all away.

“‘But we soon forgot the adventure.

“‘Then after dinner—and a delightful one it was—I was asked for my story.

“‘I begun by saying, “What will you say and do, Mr. O’More, and you, Miss Aileen, when I tell you plainly that you are at this minute entertaining pirates?”

“‘Aileen started, and turned red and white by turns.

“‘O’More merely lit his pipe.

“‘“Then the ships seen in the offing yesterday were pirates?”

“‘“Yes; they belong to my fleet.”

“‘“Were you the blackest-souled pirate that ever lived,” said O’More, stretching out his hand to shake, “you saved my daughter’s life, and I shall never forget you when I pray. But tell us all your story.”

“‘I did so simply and straightforwardly, as I have told it in these pages, mitigating only as much as I could the horrible cruelties of the awful murderer Morgan.

“‘Once again O’More shook hands with me, and so also, much to my joy, did innocent little Aileen.

“‘“Instead of being a guilty pirate,” said my host, “I look upon you as a martyr, living a life that is horribly distasteful to you for the sake of being able, now and then, to save from slaughter some of your unhappy countrymen. Nay, nay, you have nothing to regret or be ashamed of. But you say you now wish to retire.”

“‘“That I shall, if possible.”

“‘Then O’More told me his story. It was a very simple one. He too was going home, much though he loved life on the old plantation. One-half of the island really belonged to him, and he had amassed some wealth here.

“‘The evening sped away all too soon with talking, with music and singing; and having turned in, I hardly knew where I was until a bird, trilling a low, sweet song at my open window, awoke me, and I found it was broad daylight.

“‘When Aileen appeared at our early breakfast, she was dressed in plain white, with ribbons of blue, and hardly looked her age, which was seventeen. I seemed to love her better every hour.

“‘She was down before her father. We strolled in the morning sunshine, all among the beautiful flower-gardens.

“‘While still here, O’More himself came up. He was rubbing his hands and laughing.

“‘“Ha, Mr. Ferocious Pirate!” he cried, “I have news for you. I have just been up to the top of my timber tower, which commands a view of all the isle and the sea for twenty miles at least. Yes: and there isn’t a sign of your ship.”

“‘“How strange!”

“‘“You are marooned, my boy. But there is nothing strange about it. Your Admiral Morgan is a good sailor and a long-headed fellow. He knows right well there is a storm brewing that would wreck every ship he has if he didn’t sheer off and give the shore a very wide berth indeed.”

“‘And sure enough by noon that day the storm did come. It shook the great house till I expected every moment it would fall; it tore through the woods, rooting up great forest trees that had braved the elements for centuries; and it raised breakers along the island shore as high, I thought, as mountains. The sea, as seen from the tower, was all one smother of breaking, angry waves. I could not help wondering if it were possible for even our sturdy ships to brave that eastern gale.

“‘Even when the hurricane force of the storm subsided, it settled down into a steady gale, which lasted for a whole fortnight.

“‘And that gale, how I blessed it! For during this time I wooed and I won sweet Aileen O’More; and her father consented to our union six months after this, when both myself and they, we hoped, would be safe on Irish shores.

“‘But one day the admiral’s ship appeared, and cast anchor not a long way off.

“‘Oh that sad parting!

“‘It may be imagined; it cannot be described.

“‘Morgan met me at the gangway, and was evidently glad to see me.

“‘He appeared haler and stronger than I had known him for many a month, and attributed his resurrection, as he called it, to his limiting his drink, reducing, in fact, almost to nil.

“‘But he had a strange story to tell me.

“‘The gale had separated him from his ships, but he had given them orders before this that if they lost each other they should bear up for Jamaica. He had another reason for this. From all accounts the man-o’-war that was convoying the bullion-ship was so large and formidable that it would have been madness to attack her. He had ordered, therefore, a large English man-o’-war to come to his assistance with all speed. Meanwhile he had determined to depend as much on the fleetness of his vessel as upon anything else.

“‘The gale had been so terrible for nine whole days that nothing could be done; his fleet, tacking and half tacking—for the wind had a deal of north in it—must now be at Jamaica. But he had determined to look out for the Spaniard.

“‘Good luck, as he called it, seemed to favour him; for one wild morning, when the sun leaped red out of the ocean, tipping the foaming wave-crests with blood, lo! down to leeward, and staggering under bare poles almost, was the huge Spanish bullion-ship.

“‘And no man-o’-war was in sight.

“‘Morgan could see quite a host of armed men on board.

“‘The sight might have staggered some. It only made Morgan savage. It was like the red rag shaken in sight of a bull.

“‘He determined to lay her aboard.

“‘And he did.

“‘The helmsman brought her beautifully alongside, and next minute a fearful hand-to-hand fight was raging on the decks of the Spaniard.

“‘The enemy fought well. The pirates fought like fiends. Nothing could withstand them, and in less than half an hour the Dons threw down their arms and begged for mercy.

“‘Well, for once in a way, Morgan was inclined to spare life.

“‘But he had the gold brought up at once.

“‘It amounted in all to about three hundred thousand dollars.

“‘No wonder that the eyes of Morgan and his merry men sparkled with delight.

“‘But there was no time to lose. The great man-o’-war, which had got separated from her charge, might appear at any moment; then the tables would be turned with a vengeance.

“‘So the gold—it was contained in iron boxes—was speedily transferred to Morgan’s ship.

“‘“I’m going to spare your lives,” he told the captain of the Don; “but I must draw your teeth, so that when your man-o’-war finds you he’ll have to take you in tow.”

“‘Then at Morgan’s orders the small-arms were put on board his ship, also the ammunition. The large guns were thrown into the sea.

“‘Provisions and light wines were requisitioned, and then the rigging was hacked in pieces, and the sails and sheets rendered completely useless; so that when the admiral’s ship cast off from her, she rolled like a log in the water.

“‘That was Morgan’s story to me.

“‘“And now,” he said, “I have distributed a goodly portion of gold among my brave fellows, and I am going to hide the rest.”

“‘“And why?”

“‘“Why? because ten to one the man-o’-war will catch us. That we will be retaken by a British man-o’-war shortly I know, but I mean that neither the Don nor the Briton shall touch one dollar of this gold. Can you suggest a place?”

“‘“Yes; I know the very trees under which it can be hidden. Even the Indians never enter this part of the jungle, because they believe it haunted by fearful spirits.

“‘“But,” I continued, “the Indians are far away at the other end of the island, holding a war-dance. Two men besides you and myself will be amply sufficient.”

“‘To make a long story short, three hours before sunset that afternoon the boxes containing the gold were lowered into the boat, and we rowed on shore. There was no one to watch our proceedings, and we felt easy enough in mind.

“‘In an hour’s time, hard though the work was, it was finished, as far as the digging and hiding went.

“‘The next thing, however, was to take our bearings. This I managed to do most perfectly, partly by written descriptions, and partly by drawings of rocks on the sea-shore, and by measuring the distance inwards to the trees.

“‘It was dark before we left the shore, and I was rejoiced when a rain-storm came on, because I knew it would completely obliterate all our trail, so that not even a redskin would be able to find it.

“‘I gave Morgan the papers I had made, and he placed them in the locker on top of which he slept.

“‘But Morgan, as soon as he came on board, would not permit the men to go forward, and I was a little astonished, and I’m sure the poor fellows were, to find that they were placed in a prison cabin right abaft the captain’s own cabin.

“‘They had a plentiful supper handed in to them by Morgan himself, as well as a huge can of rum and another of water.

“‘We got up anchor, and stood out to sea immediately: for the wind had gone round, and was now fair for Jamaica; and as we had no great wish to encounter the Don, we took advantage of it.

“‘But now comes the horror which for ever after steeled my heart against the monster Morgan.

CHAPTER VIII.

“A DEED OF DREADFUL NOTE”—ALL SAIL FOR THE ISLAND OF GOLD.

“In the dead vast and middle of the night.”—Shakespeare.

“A sail! a sail! a promised prize to Hope.
* * * * *
Blow fair, thou breeze! she anchors ere the dark;
How gloriously her gallant course she goes,
Her white wings flying....
She walks the waters like a thing of life.”—Byron.

“‘AFTER all my adventures and the hard work and fatigue I had undergone in burying the gold, I slept soundly that night. I must have gone off almost immediately after I turned in. At all events, I heard nothing until the little nigger, Joe, came to tell me that “Pletty soon, sah, de flies gobble up all de bleakfast suppose you no come.”

“‘I was a little surprised that I saw no breakfast taken to the prisoners, and still more so when I went towards the door of their prison and found it ajar.

“‘I at once asked Morgan about the men. He smiled grimly.

“‘“Dead men tell no tales,” he said.

“‘Then he resumed his walk up and down the deck.

“‘I was horrified. Curses rose to my lips, but I did not utter them. I believe my hand felt its way to my pistol-belt, and I rushed down below for fear of doing something desperate.

“‘Morgan had murdered his prisoners, poisoned them and thrown them into the sea through the port, for fear they might tell to others the whereabouts of the hidden gold.

“‘I threw myself into my bunk and reasoned out all my plans.

“‘As soon as I went to Jamaica I determined to leave Morgan and his blood-stained fleet for ever and aye. I would put myself in communication with O’More, who indeed already knew my English address, and as soon as they reached Ireland and got settled, I should hurry across and claim my bride.

“‘I told Morgan nothing about this, for certain I am that though he liked me well as a friend, had he known I was about to leave, or desert as he would have called it, his suspicions would have been aroused: and for fear of that hidden gold being taken, he would have found means to murder me as he had to murder those faithful and honest sailors.

“‘Well, Morgan was an excellent commander, and a thorough fighting sailor, but he was very far indeed from being a good scholar.

“‘I determined, therefore, to punish him for the crime he had just been guilty of.

“‘“That hidden gold shall never be thine, Morgan,” I said to myself.

“‘Then I proceeded to execute a plan which I had well thought out.

“‘There in the privacy of my cabin I prepared a chart of the rocks, the sea-shore, the woods, and the haunted jungle, which to a casual observer in every way resembled the true chart I had given to Morgan. The figures and measurements, however, were entirely altered, so that with my new plan any one attempting to find the place where the gold was would be completely led astray.

“‘It was clever. I credit myself with being no fool.

“‘And now to change the two charts.

“‘Morgan’s locker was easily opened, so I chose a time when he had just gone on deck. I hurried to his cabin with a heart that thumped almost audibly against my ribs.

“‘Fortune favoured me. The locker opened easily, and very quickly indeed did I effect the exchange and rush away back to my own cabin.

“‘The real chart I now hastily sewed up in the lining of my jacket, and now I could breathe more freely.

“‘Indeed, once more did wave after wave of happiness flow over mind and soul as I thought of the beautiful girl Aileen O’More, who in a few months’ time would be all my own.

“‘We arrived in Jamaica in good time, and making secret inquiries, I found that a man-o’-war was leaving almost immediately.

“‘On her I secured a passage, and to her I transferred the gold I had in the bank.

“‘Then I went on board the pirate admiral’s ship to say good-bye.

“‘I had just received letters, I told him, that demanded my immediate presence in England, else I should lose a little fortune that had been left me.

“‘Morgan seemed much downcast. At all events, he said, I must dine with him that night.

“‘I promised to, but well I knew he would not permit me to go on shore alive.

“‘But I was as clever as he. I bribed the captain of the man-o’-war to hoist the Blue Peter, and have all hands on board that night. Then I sent a letter of apology, a long, kind one it was, telling Morgan that I dared not leave the man-o’-war, which might sail at any moment.

“‘Sly dog that I was, I even advised him to keep safely the chart we had made, and which could guide him at any time to the hidden gold!

“‘And now my story ends.

“‘I never saw Morgan alive again, and had no wish to.

“‘I am getting an old man now, and have more of this world’s wealth than I can spend. My life has been a very happy one with dear Aileen, and is so still.

“‘I shall never go in search of the hidden gold, but to this story I append the chart. The husband of one or other of our two girls, if ever they marry, may find out the treasure on Amelia Island. I leave the written story in a large box in an upper room, and that box I will never myself open or cause to be opened. Let whosoever finds it, if related by ties of blood to the Bassantos, do with it whatsoever seemeth unto him good.

“‘A dios! a dios!’”

* * * * *

Captain Reeves carefully put away the old yellow manuscript, and relit his great meerschaum. For a time he smoked in silence, then turning towards myself and young Miguel,—

“My dear friend,” he said to me—“for as a friend I look upon you—I need not say that I rely upon your not saying anything to any one concerning the story you have just heard completed.”

“That,” I said, “you may well do, Captain Reeves. I am a naval officer, and, I believe, a gentleman.

“But,” I added, “it is indeed a strange story, and had some men read it to me, I should have told them it was all a fable or romantic fabrication. Have you done anything yet concerning it?”

“No, but I mean to, and that right speedily, though I think it is but little likely that any party will be before us.

“My dear Gordon,” he added, “you are a sailor, and you have a long head of your own; do you feel inclined to join us in trying to unearth this gold? I will pay all expenses for our little yacht, our outfit, and everything else.”

I laughed.

“I am always well pleased,” I said, “to take up any scheme that promises adventure; besides,” I added, “a breath of the briny ocean would do me good, for I have recently come off a spell of very hard work.”

We shook hands.

“Miguel,” said Reeves, “of course I depend upon you. You may lose a session at the university; but you are a young man, and that you can make up.”

“Well,” I continued, “have you as yet formed any plan or scheme of procedure?”

“I have,” he answered. “But now, as the night is far spent, let us retire; and away on the hill to-morrow, with no one to listen to us save the titlarks, I shall lay it before you.”

* * * * *

To have seen us next day bringing down the ptarmigan and grouse in company with our ghillies and dogs, no one would have believed we had any grand gold-hunting scheme in our heads.

But as soon as luncheon was served, in a clearing among the heather, we gave our guns and bags to the ghillies, and telling them we should shoot no more, sent them home. One, we said, might return for the basket in a couple of hours.

We made a hearty meal; then once more Captain Reeves took up his tale.

“In this gold-chase of ours,” he said, “I have no intention to minimize the difficulties, not to say dangers, we shall have to encounter. As we have already seen, at the time or date of the hiding of the gold, the beautiful island of Amelia was almost all a wilderness, with many a jungle dark and drear. But there has been a change, and many a change, since then; and I am informed that it is now well populated, and has on it many a smiling farm, though much woodland still remains, and I am told that the larger and more ancient trees have been carefully preserved. There are, however, villages here, and a seaside resort called Ocean City. But, my dear friend Gordon, difficulties were made to be surmounted.”

“Yes,” I added, smiling; “or, like ninepins, Miguel, my lad, put up to be bowled over.”

“Well, anyhow, I’m going to make a good bid for success, and we can’t do more than our best, can we?”

“No, that we can’t.”

“Well, then, our search-ground, as far as I can tell, lies near a charming country seat called Citrona. Here is an extract I wish to read to you; no matter where I got it:—

“‘One mile from Fernandina, and an equal distance from Ocean City, lies the charming bayside estate of Citrona. It was once the property of James Casher, a gentleman of large means, who had a residence on it during a portion of the Spanish and British occupation of Amelia Island. In subsequent years, say from about 1885 to the time of his death, this attractive place was owned by the late Senator D. L. Yulee, who regarded the property as the most valuable suburb of the growing town of Fernandina. The property is now owned by Mr. Samuel Swann.’

“And now,” continued Reeves, “I have good reason to believe that in a plantation not far from this estate is our ground. But here comes difficulty number one. What excuse can we give for digging in mounds or elsewhere?”

As I did not answer immediately, he continued,—

“I have ever found your gentleman American a truly kind and hospitable sort of a fellow, and always willing to help a Britisher if he had it in his power. Well, now, I’m really afraid that a white lie or two will have to be exploited over this business; so I thought of casting anchor in the bay, and representing ourselves to be a party of enthusiastic scientists and geologists, engaged in anthropological and other studies, and so beg leave to open mounds here and there to unearth bones, pottery, and ancient armour.—Miguel, you will have to mount a pair of spectacles, and try to look wiser than ever you did before in your life.”

“That won’t be difficult,” said Miguel, laughing.

“I think,” said I, “that your plan is feasible enough.”

“Well, then, we shall consider it carried without a dissentient voice.—And now, Gordon, I depend upon you to charter for us a nice little steam-yacht. You are a doctor of science, at all events, and can talk science. I have studied a good deal, and Miguel, here, is also a student, so that our white lie will not be difficult, I think, to play up to.”

* * * * *

I lost no time in going south to Glasgow, and was soon fortunate enough to fall in with the very thing I required.

I wrote to my friends, with the result that they were soon with me in my hotel, bag and baggage, and by this time everything was ready. In a day or two we cleared away from the Broomielaw, dropped down the wide, romantic river, and next morning saw us not only safely round the stormy Mull of Cantyre, but standing well out to sea, skirting the northern shores of Ireland.

Though it was late in the year, the weather was clear and fine. Whenever a fair wind blew, we went ripping along before it; at other times we were under steam.

I confess that I for one felt somewhat anxious as we began to near the coast of Florida.

How would it all end, I wondered.

We had many a long talk about our prospects when there was no steward’s ear to listen, and we generally came to the conclusion that our chances of success were very fair indeed.

There was one thing, however, that I could not put my faith in, and do not even now, and that was and is Captain Reeves’s dipper.

This is an instrument which is carried along close to the surface of the ground, the long needle of which he assured me never failed to tilt if there be gold beneath the surface.

When we reached the bay at last we cast anchor. Reeves had a copy made of Bassanto’s chart and instructions, and this when we went ashore in a boat next morning he took with him, leaving the other on board; for to have lost the plans would have meant certain failure after all the trouble and expense we had been put to.

What will be our reception? Will our ruse be seen through? These were among the questions uppermost in my mind, at all events, as the little boat dashed through the water towards the beautiful beach.

CHAPTER IX.

IN SEARCH OF GOLD

“Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.”
Shakespeare.

“A pleasing land of drowsyhed it was,
Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye,
And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,
For ever flushing round a summer sky.”
Thomson.

WE landed at last, and telling the man to wait for us, we started off to make our first call. We were all fairly well dressed, though for my own part I should have preferred some other rig-out, had it been but the garb of Old Gaul (Highland dress), to that black surtout, white waistcoat, and broad-brimmed soft felt hat. I also wore an eye-glass. Reeves was similarly attired, and Miguel looked quite the clergyman all over, and wore a pair of most classical-looking spectacles. It was a beautiful house we approached, just a little inland it lay, square, with verandas, and surrounded by nice gardens, which, late in the year though it was, were still gay with gorgeous flowers.

“Is Mr. C. H. in?” said Reeves to a young lady who was culling a bouquet with a small pair of scissors in her dainty fingers.

“Yes, my father is at home, and will be so all day. Of course you will walk in. I shall soon find him for you.”

We smiled, thanked the young lady, who by the way was very good-looking, and were soon seated in a large and prettily-furnished drawing-room.

In a few minutes Mr. H. himself came in, holding our cards in his hand.

“Glad to meet Britishers,” he said frankly; “for mind we Southerners can never forget that your country had a leaning towards us during the great Civil War.”

“That I can testify to,” I said, “for my own ship was what we sailors call chummy ship not only with the Alabama, but with the Georgia and Florida; and once I and another officer had the pleasure of sending the big Vanderbilt, a Yankee who was looking for the daring cruiser, on a wild-goose chase of over a thousand miles.”

“Bravo! Well, what can I do for you?”

“We are what they call scientists, or savants, on the other side of the ocean,” replied Reeves. “They say the best study of mankind is man. Perhaps; but at present we prefer them dead, and nothing except bones.”

“I begin to see,” said our host.

“On this beautiful island of yours,” Reeves continued, “many hundreds of years ago, a strange tribe of Indians lived. They were probably different from any now in existence. So, too, were their arms and implements different. Well, we have it on pretty correct information that hundreds of these were buried in certain mounds which we possess the means of locating, and that with them rest their arms and implements. We wish, if permitted, to do a little in the way of excavation. Can you assist us?”

“I do not think,” returned Mr. H., “that there can be any mounds of interest on the patch I own; but farther back is the property of my neighbours, and I am sure they will only be too pleased to permit you to excavate as much as you please.

“Now listen, gentlemen,” he added. “To-day you must take luncheon with me all alone, and not trouble your heads about excavations or exhumations either. After luncheon, if you will allow me, I will drive you over the island.”

“We will be delighted,” said Reeves.

“Then you shall dine with myself and daughter to-morrow evening, and I will take care you meet just the landed proprietors that can assist you. The mounds you say are around here?”

“Within a radius of about three miles.”

“Capital!”

The luncheon passed off most pleasantly. Then our parson—that is, Miguel—and Miss H. found themselves by the piano.

Strange that under circumstances such as these two young folks always find out that the one knows precisely the same songs as the other. Well, most sweetly did they sing them too.

But yonder were the horses pawing the gravel, and very soon we were all off on one of the most pleasant drives ever I have had in my life.

The country seemed to me more pleasant now than it would have been in summer, for the air was cooler far, and there was no want of either trees, flowers, or foliage to gaze upon and admire. The farm blocks and the cottages, too, were all thoroughly American, and all the greater treat to behold on that account. It was indeed a lovely island!

The drive was a long one, and when we reached our little vessel that night, we were all just pleasantly tired.

But we were right well pleased with the progress things had made.

The dinner next day was a great success; the men we met professed themselves honoured at meeting savants from the dear old mother country, gladly gave us permission to excavate wherever and whenever we pleased; and not only that, but they made us promise to dine with them as often as we could spare the time.

“We want,” one of them said, “to make it just all one pleasant kind of a picnic for you, so that you may have reason to remember the cosy little island of Amelia.”

We were profuse in our thanks, and on the very next day we set to work in earnest.

It must be understood that not one of the three of us went by his real name. We were very cautious indeed. Even those I had hired the little yacht from knew us not, nor did any man on board know where we came from when we sailed from Glasgow. We were going on a pleasure cruise, that was all, and it was connected with the study of science. But we paid our few men well: they had plenty of tobacco, good food, and a fair allowance of grog. What cares Jack for anything else? As far, therefore, as our sailors went, we were safe. But we had to have labourers as well to assist in digging. Herein lay our chief danger.

As for the removal of the gold, although Reeves was as honest a man as ever I met, no thought that he was doing any harm in removing the doubloons, if we had the good fortune to find them, ever crossed his mind. The island had been British. It was taken from the British. The gold belonged by right to the Spaniards, moreover, and more particularly to that branch or family of them from which he was directly descended.

No; he should be but repossessing himself of what belonged to him.

Now, in order to make everything seem straight and real, after having engaged two sturdy labourers, we did commence excavating burial-mounds, and every evening we appeared on the beach, our labourers, two sturdy men and true, carrying boxes of Indian bones, implements of warfare and domesticity; so that it was soon bruited abroad that we were just a band of British scientists, which meant, to most, British madmen, making a collection of old bones that no wise man would pick up at his feet.

So things went on for over a week. And frequently, almost every night indeed, we dined at one or other of the charming houses or villas in the neighbourhood.

Very delightful evenings these were, and never shall I forget them. The deceit we were practising, however, rankled in my mind very much indeed, and often kept me awake at night till far into the short hours, as Burns would call them, beyond midnight,—

“The wee short hoor ayont the twal’.”

I never saw a happier young fellow than Miguel was at this time, however.

Nor did he hesitate a moment to tell me the cause of his happiness.

He was very much in love with his sweet little cousin Mina; and she, he said, with him. He had the half of a sixpenny piece, which he had broken with her before leaving, sewn up into a blue ribbon she had given him, and which he wore next his heart.

One of his favourite songs was that sweetest of lilts (which even Jenny Lind loved so), “Logie o’ Buchan.” And perhaps the dearest lines to him in all the song were these:—

“He had but ae saxpence, he broke it in twa,
And gave me the half o’t ere he gaed awa’,
Sayin’, ‘Think na lang, lassie, tho’ I gang awa’—
think na lang, lassie, tho’ I gang awa’;
For summer is comin’, cauld winter’s awa’,
And I’ll come and see you in spite o’ them a’.’”

Ah! youth’s dreams of love and of the future are delightful beyond compare, and dazzlingly beautiful as the summer’s sunrise. Pity that the orange and crimson clouds do not last all day long; then indeed would life be worth living.

But poor Miguel looked forward to a handsome country church and a handsome manse in some romantic part of the country, where quiet and joy should ever dwell, and the presiding geniuses of which should be his dear old mother and Mina herself. No wonder he was so inexpressibly happy; that like birds in spring-time he was singing all day long, even while wielding pick and spade.

Poor Miguel! would his dreams or ours turn out to be true?

Our two excavators were strong young fellows, only one of whom, however, possessed much sense. This was George Winkey (this is not his real name). I somehow think that from the very first George smelt a rat.

But to hurry on. All the time we were filling up the hold of our little vessel with old bones, etc., we knew perfectly well where the pirate’s gold lay, and at last, choosing a time when the moon was at its full, we commenced this last excavation. We discharged one man now, saying our labours were nearly over. Pity we hadn’t discharged Winkey, as the sequel will show.

I must confess that I had grave doubts concerning the finding of that gold. Nay, more, I felt almost positive that the whole thing was a myth; or that if any gold had ever been buried at the foot of this old, old tree, it must have been found long, long ago.

But I would not say so to Miguel; I would not shatter his splendid hopes and his happiness. Nevertheless to Captain Reeves I did say one morning,—

“It will be very pitiful, my friend, but at the same time somewhat laughable, if, after all our trouble and outlay, we have to leave the coast with only a cargo of defunct Indians’ decayed skeletons!”

Reeves laughed, but at the same time he looked somewhat serious.

Both he and Miguel seemed extra hopeful, however, on the morning when Winkey turned the first sod. We allowed him to do the heaviest of the work, and get well down, severing the hard, entangled branches of the trees with the axe. When these were all out, and a very large hole made, we found the ground softer.

It was eventide now.

“We shan’t do more to-night, Winkey,” Reeves said; “but meet us on the beach to-morrow at eight, and we shall commence filling up this most unpromising hole again. Good-night.”

Away went Winkey, but I think he gave Captain Reeves a strange sort of look before he started, and that he smiled satirically, if I may so word it.

Miguel himself went with him fully a mile, quite into Ocean City in fact, where the young man dwelt. It was his pay-night, and he went under pretence of getting change. Miguel paid him in an inn, and made him drink several glasses of old rye whisky, leaving him apparently very happy and careless while discussing a fourth tumbler.

Meanwhile, to my astonishment, Captain Reeves, who was digging, had exposed no less than five iron boxes. I and he attempted to lift one; it was all we could do.

But it was getting rapidly dark now, for the full moon would not rise over the island until eight o’clock.

Then Miguel himself returned.

“O thank God!” he cried, rapturously, and verily the tears of joy were choking him.

“And you think,” said Reeves, “that Winkey, who I am certain is suspicious, is safe for the night.”

“I feel sure of it, uncle, for he could hardly stand when I left. The only fear I have is that he may let out our secret to-night.”

“Well, Miguel, now comes the tug of war. All that gold must be got off to-night, and we must weigh anchor before morning. I did think of waiting till moonrise; but after what you have told us, we had better begin at once.”

“I’m ready and glad,” I said.

“Here are a couple of revolvers, Miguel. Defend the gold against all comers until we return. Your duty is the most dangerous and difficult, but I feel certain you are not afraid.”

“I am not afraid, uncle,” was the calm reply.

The tree where the gold-hole was stood not over one hundred and fifty yards from the shore, and we were in our boat and speeding off to the yacht in five minutes’ time.

Our crew all told was but seven. Of these we took five, promising all that they should be well rewarded for their night’s work.

Biscuit-bags were brought on shore, and a rudely-fitted litter, on which two boxes could be conveyed at once, one man bending on to each of the four handles, and being relieved occasionally by myself, Reeves, and the spare hand. The bags were meant to cover the boxes.

I think the men suspected that they were carrying gold, and that they would have a share of it, for they worked like slaves.

The work was hard and tedious, however, but all the boxes save one were safely taken off before the moon had been well up above the waves and shining over the sea.

We were just getting this last box on board the boat, when to our great alarm we heard a confused hum of voices in the distance, and presently recognized that of Winkey.

“Hurry, men, hurry!” cried Reeves; “there is not a moment to lose!”

The box was hoisted in, and the boat, which had been drawn up to receive it, was quickly launched.

We were all in save Miguel, the young minister; when, headed by Winkey, who was in a state of great excitement, down rushed ten hulking roughs.

“Hold!” cried Winkey; “I command you to hold in the name of the State of Florida!”

As he spoke he seized young Miguel by the breast. But he had not reckoned on that young minister’s mettle, nor on the hardness of that good Scottish fist of his. It fell like a hammer, straight from the shoulder, and took effect between Winkey’s eyes. The fellow went down like a shot, and lay there stunned and insensible.

Then Miguel sprang into the boat, and away she dashed.

There was no wind, but steam was already up, and soon the yacht was moving fast away in a south-westerly direction from the shores of the beautiful island.

This was not our course, but from the gradually-increasing mob on the beach, we knew we should be chased.

Nor were we mistaken.

CHAPTER X.

AN ANXIOUS TIME—THE CHASE AND BATTLE—HOW ALL ENDED.

“‘Now haste, my men, and launch the boat,
Our pursuers are at hand;
Once on our bark we’ll safety have,
But there’s danger on the land.’”

“A wet sheet and a flowing sea,
A wind that follows fast,
And fills the white and rustling sail,
And bends the gallant mast.”

NOW, having been granted leave by the proprietors of the land to excavate and to carry away curios, we knew well that no state would give permission to any swift yacht to follow and capture us; still we well knew what enterprising men there are in the Southern states, and how quickly a vessel of exceeding swiftness could be hired for any private adventure.

I for one, therefore, was not a bit surprised next morning at sunrise when told by Miguel that a small, wicked-looking, black steamer was bearing down on us, and coming up with us indeed, hand over hand.

“She’ll overhaul us in a couple of hours,” he said.

I dressed quickly and went on deck. Captain Reeves was already there, and all eyes were turned astern.

“The fact is,” he said, in answer to a question put by me, “we are short of coals, and the mate, thinking all was perfectly safe, had banked fires, and was dodging on under sail with the little bit of wind there was. Fires are only just stirred up, but that little fiend has the weather-gage on us.”

“It’s a private venture?” I said inquiringly.

“A private venture!” cried the mate angrily; “it is more—it is a piratical adventure, and I for one would counsel resistance to the last. So sorry the fault is mine. Well, we have two six-pounders. I’ll take the fault. I’m a good shot, and blame me more than ever if I don’t make her trip over the wreck of her own rigging.”

So the guns were loaded with ball and run aft all ready.

On came the black one; on went we. We had bags of lard and even a fat ham or two to pop into the fire when we wanted to fly.

By ten o’clock the enemy was near enough to hail us through the speaking-trumpet.

“Lie to at once, or we’ll grapple and board you. Don’t want any loss of life; but we are five-and-twenty strong, and each man has a revolver.”

The answer went from the speaking-trumpet of bold Captain Reeves,—

“If you come three fathoms nearer, we’ll astonish your weak nerves; we shall treat you as pirates, and sink you.”

There was simply an ironical cheer by way of reply.

“Get the fat in the fire now,” shouted Reeves to the engineer. “Get all pressure of steam up, anyhow. Now, mate.”

The first gun was run out and fired.

Brr—rr—rang!

Hardly had the smoke cleared away ere we could notice the consternation on board the black one.

The funnel was a wreck.

“Change your course and haul off, or we’ll give you another,” cried Reeves.

No notice was taken by the enemy.

The mate took very great pains indeed with this second shot.

It struck their foremast not a fathom above deck, and down it came thundering over the bows.

We saw we had the victory. I should be sorry to think any one was killed or hurt; but we gave them three cheers, and as steam was now fully up, we went tearing through the water, and in an hour’s time we were out of sight over the horizon.

A splendid, spanking breeze now sprang up, and in a few days we were able to take in coals at an island which for obvious reasons must be nameless.

We steamed away in the gloaming still south and by east, but as soon as night fell we altered our course to north-east by north, and were soon far away on the dark blue sea, and on our way to British shores.

We were all very happy and very hopeful now, but above everything it was a treat to witness the quiet joy of poor Miguel. Ah! youth is indeed a glorious time; but when he talked to us of his future, the young fellow’s face seemed really to be transformed, and to shine.

Then at all other times he was just his same old self, and the life of everybody on board. He was, perhaps, somewhat of a republican at heart; for he talked with the men as if they were quite on a

The fellow went down like a shot, and lay there stunned and insensible

footing of equality with him mentally and socially, and he even played and sang to them, and kept them laughing of an evening until they used to declare that their very sides ached again. I am certain that there was not a single member of the crew who would not have fought for the young minister, as they called him, until blinded with their own blood, so much beloved was he.

And now, while sailing along on a gentle breeze and doing but little over six knots an hour—for so thoroughly were we enjoying the voyage that no one seemed to be in the least hurry to get back again even to bonnie Scotland—a day was set apart to count our coin.

It took us quite a long time. The gold was of the purest, and all was in Spanish doubloons.

It ran up to the very respectable sum of sixty thousand pounds. We took the men partly into our confidence, telling them that the money—we said nothing about the amount—had belonged to our ancestors, and therefore was ours; and that on the day when it was safely lodged in bank, the engineer should have a gift of one hundred and fifty pounds, the mate the same, and each of the sailors one hundred pounds. The announcement was received with a wild, ringing British cheer. Then things went on just as before.

Now there was more money buried in the island at the foot of another tree, but contrary to the account given by American papers, this did not amount to over ten thousand dollars; a goodly sum, however, for a man like Winkey to get his hands upon.

He was welcome to it as far as we were concerned. But the finding of it and the behaviour of Winkey afterwards make quite a little story all by themselves.

Winkey, it seems, had stolen a portion of our plans describing and locating the smaller portion of gold, which also lay at the foot of a tree. We had hardly sailed, it seems, ere he got hold of a certain Mr. Green (again the name is fictitious) and communicated the wonderful tidings to him. Then they employed another man to assist them to dig, and one night they all set out on their gold-hunting expedition. Their excitement was really feverish, and the old rye they consumed to banish nervousness only served to excite them more.

But it made them reckless.

Arrived by the weird old tree, they commenced operations at once, first with shovel and pick, and next with axes.

Gnarled and hard were the roots of that ancient king of the forest, and loudly rang the sound of the blows on the stillness of the night. Still they worked away with a will.

Not a great distance off from the spot where they were at work stands the farm of Mr. M. W. H. The unusual sound disturbed the good people there.

I quote from an American paper dated June 6, 1897, when I say:—

“Mr. M. W. H. lives within two hundred yards of the spot, and heard distinctly the noise of the axes. As this was unusual at such an hour, he and his son went out to investigate. They found the three men at work digging, but as they were on other property, decided not to disturb them.

“After hours of hard work, the treasure-delvers at last struck metal. Feverishly they cleared out the impeding earth, and speedily laid bare a much-rusted iron box. In a state of intense excitement they lifted it to the surface, and leaving the hole as it was hurriedly dragged it away.

“After going a short distance toward the city, they stopped for consultation. The third man was paid, and directed to go home and keep his mouth shut.

“Green and Winkey laboured painfully home with the box, and before morning succeeded in getting it into Green’s room.

“Here they hurriedly removed the lid, whose lock and hinge had rusted off, and there before them lay a fortune in Spanish doubloons.”

The fortune, reader, as I have already stated—knowing, as I well do, all the outs and ins of the matter—was not such a wondrous one after all. But as what followed forms a rather curious story of human credulity and over-confidence, I must tell it briefly.

To begin with, then:—Green and Winkey were of opinion that as soon as the owner of the property on which the old tree stood discovered the find he would claim the gold, so they decided that the safest plan was to get it away out of Fernandina with all speed. But as Green could not go from home just then, but had the utmost confidence in Winkey, it was decided that the latter should start at once for Brunswick, he—Green—to join him later on, when they could amicably divide the spoil.

This was playing at the game of confidence with a vengeance, and we shall soon see what came of it.

The baggage-master at Fernandina distinctly remembers checking the luggage, and wondering at the same time how a man in Winkey’s poor station of life came to have so many trunks. The fact was that Winkey had put the gold in several boxes, so as to distribute the weight, and thus evade suspicion.

And now Green lived for a time in a kind of fool’s paradise, building castles in the air both by day and long into the night after going to bed. He also threw out many mysterious hints to his friends, though he told them nothing definite. Only he wanted them to know that he would soon be far above poverty, and that he need trouble himself but little more about work or business either.

So Green sold out his business, and sold off all his possessions in Florida, determining to live elsewhere, and with his newly-acquired wealth act the rôle of gentleman.

He thought it strange, however, that he did not hear from Winkey.

Post after post, and never a single letter.

“Hope deferred maketh the heart sick,” and thoroughly alarmed at last Green hurried off to Brunswick. Never a Winkey was there, and from the information he was able to glean at the railway depôt the man must have gone on to northward; how much farther it would be difficult indeed to say.

No wonder poor Green was now heartbroken. All the gold gone—his business sold for a song, and very little indeed to live upon! It was terrible.

In his agony of mind he consulted a young lawyer.

This man, Mr. W. A. H., was smart enough. At first he would scarcely credit the story, but the testimony of the farmer and his son who had heard the gold-seeker digging, and that of the baggage-master who had checked the boxes, finally convinced him.

Green offered him twenty-five dollars for his assistance in tracing Winkey.

“If you be Green, I’m not,” said the lawyer. “Five-and-twenty dollars, indeed! How liberal you are! No, sir; I shall have one-half the gold, and nothing less, and an agreement must be made out to that effect.”

And so this was done.

But now comes the most curious part of the story. The man who had assisted in digging somehow or other had got Winkey’s address. It was almost indistinct as written, but “Fifth Avenue, New York,” could just be made out.

This the man gave to Mr. W. A. H., and he in turn gave it to Green, in whose honesty the lawyer had the utmost confidence. But it was necessary to success that Winkey be run to earth at once; so the lawyer dispatched Green to New York to find the runaway and confront him with a charge of roguery.

Probably Green was not so great a fool as he looked.

In all probability he found Winkey, and after a quarrel resumed partnership.

Perhaps this was so; but as Burns says,—

“Facts are chiels that winna ding,”

and the fact is that the clever but over-confiding lawyer has not up to the present date, July 15, 1897, heard again of either Winkey or Green. Very likely they are enjoying themselves together at some Continental or British watering-place.

While I write, it is a most brilliant sunny summer’s day, and only six miles from here Henley regatta is in full swing. When I finish this chapter I shall drive there, and it is just within the bounds of possibility that I might stumble across Winkey. I should know him at a glance!

* * * * *

The finding of our gold, or rather, I should say, the gold of Captain Keeves and Don Miguel M‘Lean, took place last December (1896). We succeeded in landing it easily, and had the whole melted down into bars, which were sold for their full value.

Captain Reeves still holds that beautiful and romantic villa of his far away in the wild, romantic north of Scotland.

He gives larger and nicer parties now than ever, for he dearly loves good company.

Poor Mrs. M‘Lean no longer lives in a couple of small rooms in the east end of the great Granite City. No; she has bought one of the most charming modern villas far out Rubislaw way, and many an old friend drops in of an evening to drink tea or stay to dinner whom she could not have asked or entertained in the days of her poverty.

Miguel does not now have to slave at harvests, nor to endanger his life at the herring fishery. He was down seeing me about a month ago, dear happy, hopeful youth!

He is as determined to be a clergyman as ever, and there is now no danger of his having to wait long for a living, because he knows of one—just the one he should like—for sale; that is, the gift is in the hands of a lord who is willing to part for a consideration.

In less than a month the heather will all be in bloom on the mountain sides; my guns are already ready, and my honest setter Dash is ready too. By the morning of the glorious twelfth Reeves and I will be on the hill. Bonnie little Mina will have her gun too, and I need hardly add that Miguel will not be far away.

I feel certain that in their case the stream of love will run smooth, and that their married life, when the time for marriage comes, will be a happy one.

That side by side their barks of Life may glide calmly over the sea of Time to a glad Beyond, is the earnest wish and prayer of

The Author.

THE END.

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[A] Water-sprites.

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[C] Big.

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Table of Contents

- THE PIRATE’S GOLD
- PREFATORY NOTE.
- CONTENTS
- LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

- THE PIRATE’S GOLD. CHAPTER I. FAR OVER THE HILLS.

- CHAPTER II. A HERO IN HUMBLE LIFE.

- CHAPTER III. THE ISLES OF THE BEAUTIFUL WEST.

- CHAPTER IV. THE ARCH-PIRATES MORGAN AND MANSVELT.

- CHAPTER V. FIGHTING ON LAND AND AT SEA.

- CHAPTER VI. FEVER’S DREAMS—STRANGE ADVENTURE ON SHORE.

- CHAPTER VII. AILEEN O’MORE—HIDING THE TREASURE.

- CHAPTER VIII. “A DEED OF DREADFUL NOTE”—ALL SAIL FOR THE ISLAND OF GOLD.

- CHAPTER IX. IN SEARCH OF GOLD

- CHAPTER X. AN ANXIOUS TIME—THE CHASE AND BATTLE—HOW ALL ENDED.

- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG™ LICENSE