Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake

At last, after vainly planning and giving up each plot as futile, the prisoners sat about in the cabins or wearily gazed out of the windows one morning, waiting for change. The wounds were healing fast, and gave but little trouble, and Hester, in spite of the close imprisonment, had changed rapidly for the better, joining with Bessy in ministering to those who suffered with them, and making more than one eye bright as their owners made a vow that no harm should befall them while they had a hand to raise. Dutch had long known now how causeless had been his jealousy, and how bitterly his young wife had been persecuted; while she had borne all in silence lest, as so important a stake was in question, she might offend the Cuban, and so injure not merely her husband’s prospects, but those of Mr Parkley, to whom they were both indebted so much.

All was very quiet below, and one day had so strongly resembled another that the prisoners watched them pass in a way that grew more and more hopeless, when they were startled by the loud rattle of the heavy chain with which their door had been of late secured, and, followed by four of his partners in iniquity, Lauré presented himself, gave a sharp look round, and then in a hard commanding tone exclaimed: —

“Every man on deck!”

No opposition was made to his orders for the moment, and the captain, Mr Parkley, Meldon, and Wilson went up on deck, where they found Oakum, Rasp, and the sailors, but Dutch drew back as he saw Lauré’s eyes turned upon Hester and her companion.

“Have him up, lads,” exclaimed the Cuban, with flashing eyes; and Dutch was seized and dragged to the door way, Lauré drawing a pistol and holding it to his head until he was on deck.

“Now you,” exclaimed Lauré, brutally; and with tottering gait John Studwick obeyed him, but there was a look on his eyes as he passed the Cuban that made him start uneasily, and then with a contemptuous laugh he turned it off and followed him on deck.

Dutch heaved a sigh of relief as he saw that Lauré stayed with them, had them ranged along by the starboard bulwarks, and then addressed them.

“We sail from here directly,” he said, “and as I don’t want to be hard on men who have got to work for me, I am going to make you an offer, on which condition you can have your liberty on deck. I shall make the same offer to you all, though I suppose there will be some fools among you who will not take it. What I propose is this, that such of you as like to swear you will make no attempt to escape or fight against me can go about, except at night, when you will all be locked up again; but you have to bear this in mind, that anyone who runs from his promise will be shot like a dog, or pitched over to the sharks. Now then, captain, will you help to navigate the ship?”

“No, sir,” was the reply.

“Well, Mr Parkley, my disappointed speculator, what do you say?”

“I have nothing to say to such a scoundrel,” replied Mr Parkley.

“You will stop on deck, doctor?”

“I shall stay with my friends, sir.”

“So shall I,” said Mr Wilson, stoutly.

“As you like. I needn’t ask you, I suppose, my clever diver, but you had better stay and get strong,” said Lauré, with a sneering laugh; “you will have plenty to do by-and-by.”

Dutch made no reply, but looked defiance.

“Just as you like,” said the Cuban, grimly. “Now, you two sailors, stop and help work the ship, and you shall have four times the pay that those fools were going to give you. I’ll give you a heap of ingots apiece.”

Lennie and Rolls were evidently tempted, but they looked at Sam Oakum, who was cutting off a piece of tobacco in the most nonchalant way.

“Well, why don’t you speak?” cried Lauré sharply.

“’Cause we’re a-going to do same as him,” growled Rolls, nodding at Oakum.

“And what are you going to do, Sam Oakum?” cried Lauré, who was getting wroth at his plan for reducing his prisoners being foiled. “Come, my man, I’ll make it well worth your while to turn over on my side. The game’s up with those you have served, and if you hold out you will be forced to work with a pistol at your head; but if you come over to me, and help me well to navigate the ship, and get the treasure from a couple more galleons, I’ll make you a rich man for life.”

This was a painful moment for Dutch and his friends, for, instead of indignantly refusing, the old sailor, whom they thought so staunch, hesitated, and turned and whispered to Rasp, who was by his side.

“Come, look sharp I’ve no time for fooling,” cried Lauré. “What do you say?”

Oakum looked at his fellow-prisoners, then at Rasp and the two sailors, and gave his quid a fresh turn before speaking.

“S’pose I says, ‘No; I’ll stick trumps to my old skipper?’” he growled.

“Well, then,” said Lauré, showing his teeth, “you’ll have to work twice as hard, you’ll have three days given you to carry the schooner to the next sunken wreck, and if you don’t do it in that time I shall send a bullet through your head.”

“Thankye,” said Oakum. “Well now, suppose as I says I’ll fight for you, sail the schooner, and help get up some more treasure, what’ll you give me?”

“Oakum!” exclaimed Dutch, who had believed strongly in the old man’s faith.

“You be blowed,” growled Oakum. “I must take care o’ myself. Now then, gov’nor, what do you say?”

“I’ll give you a hundred of those silver ingots down below. That will make you a rich man.”

“Won’t do,” said Sam, stoutly. “I ain’t going to cut my old skipper for no hundred on ’em. Make it two hundred and I’ll take you.”

“Oakum, if you have a spark of manly feeling in you!” cried Dutch.

“Ain’t got a spark, Mister Dutch Pugh. It was put out that day of the fight.”

“You scoundrel!” cried the captain.

“Same to you, captain,” said Oakum, coolly. “Now then, gov’nor, what do you say? Is it to be two hundred, or is the proposal off?”

“I’ll give you the two hundred,” said Lauré, with flashing eyes, for he knew that Oakum would be invaluable to him, and very likely bring Rolls and Lennie over – the three being the best sailors in the ship.

“And ’bout grog?” said Oakum.

“As much as you like when the work’s done,” said Lauré.

“And ’bacco?”

“Of course.”

“And I ain’t to be a common sailor?”

“No, under me you shall have command of the ship, as far as navigation goes.”

“Then I’m on,” said Sam Oakum, giving his leg a slap, after a glance at the armed men on one side and his captive superiors on the other.

There was a murmur of dissatisfaction from the captain and the others at this secession, and Oakum turned upon them sharply.

“What are you a growling about?” he exclaimed, throwing off his former tones of respect. “You can’t spect a man to stick to you always. Your game’s up, his is on. – I’m going on his side. Why not? I’m a pore man, and I shall be a pore one if I don’t make some tin this trip.”

“You’re quite right, my lad,” said Lauré, slapping him on the shoulder, and then turning a malignant look on his prisoners.

“One must know which way his bread’s buttered,” growled Sam. “Say, my lads,” he continued, to Rolls and Lennie, “you can go down and be boxed up under hatches if you like, only if I was you I should say to the new skipper, ‘Give’s twenty of them bars a piece, and we’ll stick to you to the end.’”

“I’ll give you twenty ingots a piece, my lads,” said Lauré. “Will you come over?”

“I’m a-going to do just the same as Master Oakum does,” said Lennie.

“I’m on too,” growled the other, with what sounded a good deal like a curse.

“That’s good. Step over here then,” said the Cuban. “You are free men.”

There was another angry murmur from the prisoners, as they saw their party lessened by three; but there was a greater trial in store for them, for just then Oakum turned sharp round on old Rasp, who was taking snuff viciously as he leaned back and looked on.

“I say, old beeswax,” said Oakum, “now’s your time to make your bargain. You’re a fool if you stop there.”

“For heaven’s sake, Rasp, don’t listen to him,” cried Mr Parkley.

“What have you got to do with it?” snarled Rasp, angrily. “He says right. Your game’s up, and if we’re a-going diving again, I may just as well be paid for it as work for nowt.”

“Come, then,” said the Cuban, whose face flushed.

Rasp took a couple of steps forward, and the Cuban met him.

“What’ll you make it if I come and dive for you and get all the rest of the treasure? You can’t work it proper without me, so I tell you.”

“I’ll give you the same as Oakum,” said the Cuban eagerly.

“Same as him!” snarled Rasp, “and him a common sailor. How are you going to get your treasure. I won’t dive?”

“With this,” said Lauré, tapping his revolver.

“Not out o’ me, you can’t,” said the old fellow, giving a poke at an imaginary fire. “If I says as I won’t dive, pistols couldn’t make me – there.”

“We shall see about that,” said Lauré, sharply.

“There, I don’t want to fight,” said Rasp, to Mr Parkley’s great astonishment, for he had looked upon the old diver as truthfulness itself. “Here’s the plunder, and there’s no call to quarrel over it. I tell you what: say ten per cent, on all we get, and I’m your man.”

“Ten per cent!” exclaimed Lauré.

“Well, you’ll save by it,” said the old fellow. “Shan’t I work the harder, and get all the more?”

“There’s my hand upon it,” said the Cuban; and they shook hands, while Mr Parkley uttered a low groan, and Dutch’s eyes glittered with rage.

“That will do,” said the Cuban, who could ill conceal his triumph. “Now then, down below with you, captain, and you my clever adventurers. You have played with me, you see, and your cards are all trumped. Now, take my advice and wait patiently till you are wanted, for if you try any tricks against me, the stakes may mean your lives.”

All had gone below except Dutch and Mr Parkley, who turned round and addressed their renegade followers.

“As for you, Rasp,” exclaimed Mr Parkley, “if anyone had sworn to me you could be such a scoundrel, I would have called him a liar.”

“You keep a civil tongue in your head,” snarled Rasp. “I worked faithful for you, and you made your money. Now it’s my turn. You’ll have to work, and dive too – d’yer hear, and I’m going to make the money.”

The Cuban looked on curiously as these exchanges took place, and his face flushed with pleasure as he saw Dutch turn upon Oakum, just as he was cutting himself a fresh plug of tobacco with his great clasp knife.

“You cowardly old traitor,” cried Dutch; and, unable to contain himself, he caught the old sailor by the throat and shook him violently.

This treatment seemed to rouse the old fellow into a state of ungovernable passion, for, giving way in the surprise of the moment, he was driven back against the cover of the cabin hatch, but, recovering himself directly, with a savage oath he raised his knife and struck Dutch Pugh a fearful blow full in the chest, and the young man staggered back along the deck.

Story 1-Chapter XXXII.

Oakum’s Messenger

Sam Oakum followed Dutch as he staggered back, his knife entangled in the loose jacket he wore, and, dragging it furiously out, he was going to strike again, when a couple of the sailors seized his arm, and, frowning and swearing, he allowed himself to be held back, while, panting and white with rage, Dutch exclaimed —

“Coward, as well as traitor, you will get your reward!”

“Here, let go, will you?” cried Sam, furiously, making a desperate effort to get free, but the men held on, and Lauré interposed —

“Let him go, Oakum, let him go,” he said, smiling with satisfaction. “You can serve him out by-and-by, as you call it – some day when he is diving,” he added, with a peculiar look.

Oakum gave a savage growl like that of a bear, and glared at Dutch, who was now half forced below, hurt in mind, but very slightly in body, for Oakum’s clumsy stab had gone between his ribs and arm, merely tearing his jacket.

Lauré gave his orders, then Oakum took the command, and, the men readily obeying, the anchors were hove up, and, after their long stay, the schooner sails were once more shaken out, and the vessel began to glide gently along through the limpid waters of the beautiful bay.

During the next two days the Cuban kept a suspicious watch over Sam, but as he went direct at his work with a good deal of ardour, and knocked ’Pollo down for coming up smiling at him, he rose greatly in Lauré’s favour; and on the third morning, when the Cuban came on deck and saw Sam busily scanning with his glass the shore along which they had coasted, he came and laid his hand upon his shoulder.

“You know the next place, then?” he said.

“Well, I dunno whether it’s the same as your’n,” said Sam, with a grin. “Mine lies just under that bit of an island off yon point.”

“Where the rocks lie piled up like an old castle, and there’s a little cove only about big enough to take this ship?” said the Cuban.

“That’s him, capen,” said Oakum, showing his yellow teeth. “Say, I think it ought to be another hundred bars, capen, for this.”

“Wait and see, my man. If it turns out as well as the last, I may behave handsomely to you; at any rate, if you serve me well, I shall not be shabby – handsome – shabby, that is what you say, is it not?”

“I say handsome,” said Oakum quietly, “never mind the shabby.”

That afternoon the schooner was comfortably moored over where the sunken vessel lay, and this time there was no difficulty in finding the place, for about six fathoms below the surface the black timbers could be seen, and the Cuban rubbed his hands with glee, telling Oakum that this would be the richest find, as it was here he had himself dived and obtained the ingots.

“And was the tother one of the places you knowed of?” said Sam.

“Yes,” replied the Cuban; “and I know of far more yet.”

“Didn’t you dive down at t’other place?”

“No,” said the Cuban, lighting a cigar. “I sent down a black, who was a splendid swimmer – one of my slaves.”

“Suppose he goes and clears off the silver unbeknownst to you?” said Sam, grinning.

“He will not do that,” said the Cuban, quietly exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“How do you know, capen?” said Oakum. “I never trusts niggers,” and as he spoke he scowled at ’Pollo, who was crossing the deck, and who slunk away.

“Because he is gone where I should send any man who was likely to prove treacherous to me,” said Lauré, in a low, hissing whisper. “That fellow began to talk too much, and one night he fell overboard – somehow. It is impossible to say how.”

The two men stood gazing in each other’s eyes for a few moments, and then the Cuban added slowly —

“I never boast, and I never forgive. A man is a fool to his own interests who tries to escape me. Your worthy employers thought that they had quite got rid of me, and had the field open to themselves. You see where they are? Now, if such a man as that old Rasp were to play fast and loose with me, that old man would die. Don’t tell him I said so; it would make him uncomfortable, and it is better a man should not know that he is likely to die. Take a cigar, my good friend Oakum.”

“Thanky, no, capen, I always chews,” said Sam; and then, as the other moved and went forward, Sam added, “He’s a devil, that’s what he is – a devil.”

Old Rasp was sitting on a coil of rope close at hand polishing up one of the helmets ready for the morrow’s use, and just then the two men’s eyes met, and a peculiar wink was exchanged, but they did not speak; and the rest of the evening was spent in making preparations for the morrow’s descents.

Since he had been on deck, Sam Oakum had once or twice seen a little canary, one that Mr Wilson used to pet a good deal, feeding it and training it so that it would sit on his finger, and feed from his hand, and this bird set him thinking.

Quite half the birds were dead, but there were several surviving, thanks to ’Pollo, who had given the little things seed and water, and cleaned out their cages. He had begun to talk to Oakum about them, but the old sailor turned upon him savagely.

“You go and attend to your pots and pans,” he roared, “you black lubber;” and ’Pollo shrunk from him with a frightened, injured air; and as the black crept away Oakum suspected that the Cuban was close at hand, as he always was whenever either of the seceded party spoke together.

“Poor old ’Pollo!” said Sam to himself, as he sat down opposite the cage and began thinking.

“Now, I wonder, little matey,” he said softly, “whether, if I let you loose, you’d find your master, and take him a message.”

He sat thinking for a while, and then shook his head.

“No, I’m sartain it wouldn’t do; no, not even if you could talk like a poll parrot.”

He strolled on deck, and saw that there was a sentry by the broken skylight and another by the cabin hatch, and this was always the case, for the Cuban kept up the strictest discipline, one so perfect that if anything like it had been the rule under Captain Studwick the vessel could not have been taken.

Sam watched his opportunity, too, when the prisoners came on deck, but he soon found that any attempt to obtain a word with either, even if they had not avoided his glance, would have been fatal to the enterprise which he had in hand.

“I shall have to take to the bird,” he said at last, and at daybreak the next morning he opened its cage door, and the little thing flitted out upon deck, and seemed thoroughly to enjoy its liberty, flying into the rigging, chirping, and ending by descending the cabin hatch, attracted thereto by a peculiar whistle, but after a time it came up again, suffered itself to be caught and replaced in its cage.

“That’ll do,” said Sam to himself, and he went about his work, while that morning the whole of the diving apparatus was rigged up, and Rasp carefully inspected the ground.

“It’s all right,” he said to the Cuban. “Now, then, have ’em up. Here, let’s send old Parkley down.”

Mr Parkley was summoned on deck, and his first idea was to refuse to descend.

“You’d better go down,” said Rasp grinning. “If you don’t go with the soot on it’s my belief that you’ll have to go down without.”

There was no help for it, and he put on the diving-dress and went down, Dutch being summoned on deck directly after, to find Lauré and his men all armed; and he felt that resistance was vain, and he, too, went down, and then with Mr Parkley worked to clear away the sand and weeds that had collected in the hold of the vessel.

A few ingots were found and sent up directly, but it was evident to both, as they compared notes, that the work of many days must follow before they could get at the bulk of the treasure that lay below.

And so another day passed, Dutch still finding, to his delight, as he went below, that the desire for the treasure was still the prominent feeling in Lauré’s mind.

The next morning, at daybreak, Mr Wilson was first astir, and Dutch had just joined him to sit by the cabin window and enjoy the fresh morning breeze, which was deliciously cool, when a bright, sharp chirp was heard, and the canary flew down through the broken skylight and alighted on the table.

“Dick, Dick!” cried Mr Wilson, with the tears of joy in his eyes, “pretty Dick;” and the little thing flew on to his finger, turning its head first on one side and then on the other, as it looked up in his face with its bright beady eye.

“What’s that under its wing?” said Dutch, sharply.

“Paper,” was the reply; and, sure enough, tightly tied beneath the little pinion was a tiny piece of doubled-up paper, which, on being opened out, bore these words in pencil:

“Keep a steady hand at the wheel, and wait. Friends on board. Work and wait.”

“Can that mean treachery?” said Dutch doubtfully; and, going to their berths, he read the words softly to the captain and Mr Parkley, and asked their opinions as well as that of the doctor.

“No,” said the latter; “that’s no treachery, but from a friend.”

“I see it all,” whispered Dutch, with his face flushed with joy.

“What do you mean?” said the captain.

“I knew old Oakum and Rasp could not be such scoundrels. Their behaviour was all a blind. They are our friends.”

“That must be it,” acquiesced the others; and it was decided not to send any message back, but to let the bird go.

This was done, and that day the divers steadily worked on with old Rasp, who was closely watched by the Cuban, tyrannical to a degree, while Oakum never once looked at them.

Sand, rock, and what was harder to move, namely, masses of coral, were dragged away that day, and the Cuban’s impatience was somewhat alleviated on the sight of a few more stray ingots, forerunners of what he hoped to get later on, and again night put an end to their labours, the tired divers, who on this day had been helped by the captain, doctor, and naturalist, all working like common sailors, and watched by armed men.

They were up and waiting beneath the cabin skylight the next morning before the day broke, and once more came the bird with a welcome message.

It was very brief, but it gave them hope in the midst of their despair, for it ran as follows: —

“You’ll get no more writing, for it ar’n’t safe-like, friends working for all on you. Never mind, lads, watch under cabin light till something comes.”

This was enigmatical, but it set them on their guard, and they worked that day more cheerfully, feeling that a plot must be on foot for their rescue, Dutch’s only fear, as he gazed at the two women, being that it might come too late.

That night Dutch, weary as he was, himself watched beneath the cabin hatch, but many weary hours passed without anything but the talking of the watch being heard; and at last he felt that at all hazards he must sleep, when he started, for something round and soft suddenly fell through the open light upon his head, and feeling about on the floor his hand came into contact with a handkerchief, in which something soft was tied up. A powder evidently – yes, gunpowder.

He stood pondering with about a couple of pounds of the combustible in his hand, thinking of what power it would have if exploded, and longing for the battery and the dynamite cartridges, as he thought that if matters came to the worst he would blow up the ship sooner than the women should suffer insult.

During the next few days the diving work progressed steadily, and, with the exception of a few interruptions by sharks, all went well; but not the slightest sign struck Dutch as evincing a desire on the part of Rasp or Oakum to make any communication, and both he and his friends were puzzled, wondering which of them would be the faithful one, for they felt that they would be too sanguine if they imagined that both were on their side, though Mr Parkley was as convinced that Rasp was at work for them as Dutch was that it was Oakum.

All the while both were working hard in their interest to contrive the re-capture of the ship, but the difficulty was that the whole party were so watched that they could find no means of communication, but still they hoped.

Oakum had found where the arms were stowed in the fore cabin, which Lauré had taken for his own use, and which he shared with one of the men, whom he seemed to trust entirely, but who was a thoroughly drunken scoundrel, and who used to make Mr Meldon’s blood boil by the way he used to stand and watch Bessy Studwick whenever she was on deck in the evening, for Lauré had insisted that the women should share his prisoners’ walk for a couple of hours each day.

“If I could get at those tools,” thought Oakum, “and pass ’em down, we should be all right, and might make the scoundrels shake in their shoes.” But no opportunity occurred, and the glorious bright days glided by.

The treasure had been thoroughly reached at last, and in a hopeless way Dutch and Mr Parkley worked on, bullied sharply by Rasp, who threatened short supplies of air if more work were not done, and the consequence was that an immense treasure in silver bars was recovered, though for the most part terribly corroded and mingled with calcareous matter.

At last the time arrived when Mr Parkley came up announcing that the last ingot had been found, and that nothing remained but the black and rotting wood.

“Nonsense,” exclaimed Lauré angrily; “there must be hundreds more. Here, you Pugh, it is your turn to go down now. Make a good search, and don’t come back till you have found more.”