Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake

“Yes,” said Mr Parkley, drumming on the desk.

“I have made discoveries there.”

“Mines?” said Mr Parkley. “Not in my way.”

“No, sir – better than mines; for the gold and silver are gathered and smelted – cast into ingots.”

“Buried treasure, eh? Not in my way, sir – not in my way.”

“Yes, buried treasure, Mr Parkley; but buried in the bright, clear sea, where the sun lights up the sand and rocks below.”

“Sea, eh? Well, that is more in our way. Eh, Pugh?”

“Read the old chronicles of the time, sir, two or three hundred years ago,” said the Cuban, rising, with his eyes flashing, and his handsome face lit up by his glowing excitement, “and you shall find that gold ships and plate-ships – ships laden with the treasures of Mexico and Peru, taken by the Spaniards, were sunk here and there upon those wondrous coasts.”

“Old women’s tales,” said Mr Parkley, abruptly. “Cock-and-bull stories.”

“I do not quite understand,” said the Cuban, haughtily, “except that you doubt me. Sir, these are truths. I doubted first; but for five years in a small vessel I have searched the Carib Sea, and I can take you to where three ships have been wrecked and sunk – ships whose existence is only known to me.”

“Very likely,” said Mr Parkley; “but that don’t prove that they were laden with gold.”

“Look,” said the Cuban, taking from a pocket in his cloak a packet, and, opening it out, he unwrapped two papers, in one of which was a small ingot of gold, in the other a bar of silver. They were cast in a very rough fashion, and the peculiarity that gave strength to the Cuban’s story was that each bar of about six inches long was for the most part encrusted with barnacle-like shells and other peculiar sea growths.

“Hum! Could this have been stuck on, Pugh?” said Mr Parkley, curiously examining each bar in turn.

“I think not, sir, decidedly,” said Pugh. “Those pieces of metal must have been under water for a great length of time.”

“You are right, Mr Pugh,” said the Cuban, whose face brightened. “You are a man of sound sense. They have been under water three hundred years.”

He smiled at the young Englishman as he spoke, but the other felt repelled by him, and his looks were cold.

“How did you get those bars and ingots?” said Mr Parkley, abruptly.

“From amongst the rotten timbers of an old galleon,” said the Cuban. “But where?”

“That is my secret. Thirty feet below the surface at low water.”

“Easy depth,” said Mr Parkley, thoughtfully. “But why did you not get more?”

“Sir, am I a fish? I practised diving till I could go down with a stone, and stay a minute; but what is that? How could I tear away shell, and coral, and hard wood, and sand, and stones. I find six such bars, and I am satisfied. I seek for years for the place, and I know three huge mines of wealth for the bold Englishmen who would fit out a ship with things like these” – pointing to the diving suits – “with brave men who will go down with bars, and stay an hour, and break a way to the treasure, and there load – load that ship with gold and silver, and perhaps rich jewels. Sir, I say to you,” he continued, his face gradually glowing in excitement, “are you the brave Englishman who will fit out a ship and go with me? I say, make a written bond of agreement to find all we shall want in what you call apparatus and brave men. I show you the exact place. I take your ship to the spot to anchor, and then, when we get the treasures, I take half for myself, and you take half for yourselves. Is it fair?”

“Yes, it sounds fair enough,” said Mr Parkley, rubbing his nose with a pair of compasses. “What do you say, Pugh?”

“I hardly know what to say, sir. The project is tempting, certainly; but – ”

“But it is a monstrous fortune,” said the Cuban. “It is an opportunity that cannot come twice to a man. Do you hear? Great ingots of gold and bars of silver. Treasures untold, of which I offer you half, and yet you English people are so cold and unmovable. Why, a Spaniard or a Frenchman would have gone mad with excitement.”

“Yes,” said Mr Parkley, “but we don’t do that sort of thing here.”

“No,” said the Cuban, “you are so cold.”

“It takes some time to warm us, sir,” said Dutch, sternly; “but when we are hot, we keep so till our work is done. Your Frenchman and Spaniard soon get hot, and are cold directly.”

“That’s right, Pugh, every word,” said Mr Parkley, nodding his head.

“Then you refuse my offer?” said the Cuban, with a bitter look of contempt stealing over his face.

“Do I?” replied Mr Parkley.

“Yes, you are silent – you do not respond.”

“Englishmen don’t risk ten thousand pounds without looking where it is to go, my fine fellow,” said Mr Parkley, drumming away at the desk. “I don’t say I shall not take it up, and I don’t say I shall.”

“You doubt me, then. Are not my papers good?”

“Unexceptionable.”

“Is not the half of the wondrous wealth enough for you? You who only take out your ship and divers to get what it has taken me years to find. I tell you there are cargoes of this rich metal lying there – hundreds of thousands of pounds – a princely fortune; and yet you hesitate.”

“Are there any volcanoes your way?” said Mr Parkley, drily.

“Yes – many. Why?”

“I thought so,” said the sturdy Englishman.

“It is enough,” cried the Cuban, haughtily. “You play with me, and insult me.”

And, as he spoke, with flashing eyes, he snatched at the two ingots, and began to wrap them up, but with a smile of contempt he threw them back on the desk.

“No, we do not,” said Mr Parkley quietly; “only you are so red hot. I must have time to think.”

“Time to think?”

“Yes. I like the idea, and I think I shall accept your offer.”

“You believe in my papers, then?”

“Oh, yes, they are beyond suspicion,” said Mr Parkley, holding out his hand. “Only there are so many tricks played that one has to go carefully. Well, how are you? Glad to see you, and hope we shall be good friends.”

“My great friend!” exclaimed the Cuban, throwing his arms round the sturdy little man, and nearly oversetting him, stool and all, in his fervid embrace. “They were right: you are the true enterprising man of energy after all.”

“I say, don’t do that again, please,” said Mr Parkley. “We shake hands here, and save those hugs for the other sex – at least the young fellows do.”

“But I am overjoyed,” exclaimed the Cuban, enthusiastically. “Here, I will be English,” he cried, holding out his hand and shaking that of Dutch most heartily. “We two shall be great friends, I see. You will come too. You are young and full of energy, and you shall be as rich as he. You shall both draw up gold in heaps and be princes. Thank you both – thank you. And now we will make our plans.”

“Gently, gently,” exclaimed Mr Parkley; “this all takes time. If that treasure has lain for three hundred years at the bottom of the sea, it will be safe for a few months longer.”

“Ah, yes, yes.”

“Then we must take our time, and, if we go, make plenty of preparation.”

“Yes, yes,” said the Cuban; “take plenty of diving suits and a diving bell.”

“Don’t you fidget about that, sir,” said Mr Parkley, proudly. “I think we can find such appliances as will do the trick. Eh, Pugh?”

Dutch nodded, and then looked uneasily at the Cuban, whose presence seemed to fill him with a vague trouble.

“I’ve got an important contract on too,” continued Parkley.

“A contract?” said the Cuban. “A new machine?”

“No, no; a bond such as we must have to do certain work.”

“Yes, yes. I see.”

“I’ve got to empty a ship off the coast here. She went down, laden with copper.”

“I must see that,” cried the Cuban, excitedly. “Where is it? Let us go. I must see the men go under water.”

“All in good time, sir – all in good time; for I must finish that job first. Well, Rasp,” he continued, as that worthy came in.

“It’s Mrs Pug, sir. Shall I show her in?”

“No, no,” exclaimed Dutch, eagerly.

But he was too late; for, as he spoke, a lady-like figure entered the room, and the bright, fair, girlish face, with its clustering curls of rich dark-brown hair, turned from one to the other in a timid, apologetic way.

“I am sorry,” she faltered. “You are engaged. My husband arranged – ”

“Come in, my dear – come in,” said Mr Parkley, hopping off his stool, taking her hands, and patting them affectionately, as he placed her in a chair. “We’ve about done for to-day; and if we had not, there’s nothing you might not hear. I’ll be bound to say, Pugh keeps nothing from you.”

“But she is beautiful!” muttered the Cuban, with sparkling eyes, as his lips parted, and a warm flush came into his creamy cheeks; while Dutch turned pale as he saw his admiration, and the vague feeling of dread came once more in combination with one of dislike.

Story 1-Chapter III.

Under Water and Under Current

“But I am not polite, my dear,” said Mr Parkley. “This is Señor Manuel Lorry, a gentleman from Havana. Señor, Mrs Pugh, the wife of my future partner, and almost my daughter.”

The Cuban bowed low as the young Englishwoman rose and looked anxiously at him, her eyes falling directly, and she blushed vividly, as though her fair young cheeks were scorched beneath his ardent gaze.

A pang shot through the breast of Dutch Pugh; but the eyes were raised again to his with so naïve and innocent a look that the pain was assuaged, and he crossed to her side.

“Well, Señor,” said Mr Parkley, “I am to see that you are not imposed upon, so you are in my charge.”

“I know so much of the straightforward honesty of the English, sir, that I am glad to be in your hands.”

“That’s complimentary,” said Mr Parkley.

“It is true, sir,” said the Cuban, bowing.

“Very well, then,” said Mr Parkley, “we’ll begin by trusting one another fully. Well, Rasp, what is it now?”

“Here’s Sam Oakum just come from Barrport.”

“Well, have they got out all the copper?”

“Not a bit of it, for the men won’t go down.”

“Why?”

“Say the engine don’t supply enough air, and the receiver’s bust. Won’t go down, hany one on ’em.”

“Nonsense!”

“John Tolly’s dead or thereabouts.”

“Dead?”

“So Sam says.”

“Tut, tut, tut!” ejaculated Mr Parkley. “Always something wrong. Pugh, you’ll have to go down directly, and set an example, or I must. Tolly always comes up dead when he don’t like a job.”

“No, no, no!” exclaimed Mrs Pugh, leaping off to catch her husband by the arm. “He must never go down again. Promise me you will not go,” she cried, turning her ashy face up to his.

“But she is beautiful indeed!” muttered the Cuban.

“My darling,” whispered Dutch, “be a woman. There is no danger.”

“No danger!” she wailed. “Dutch, I’ve dreamed night after night of some terrible trouble, and it is this. You must not – must not go.”

“My darling,” he whispered. And, bending over her, he said a few words in her ear, which made her set her teeth firmly and try to smile, as she stood up clasping his hand.

“I will try,” she whispered – “try so hard.”

“I’m ready, Mr Parkley,” said the young man, hoarsely.

“That’s right, Pugh. Go and set matters square. I’ll see your wife safe back home.”

“I leave her to you,” said Dutch, in a low voice. “Good-bye, my darling, get back home. I’ll join you soon,” he whispered, and hurried out of the office.

But as he turned for a moment, it was to see the Cuban’s eyes fixed upon the trembling girl; while the goblinlike figures against the wall seemed to be nodding and gibbering at him, as if laughing at the troubles that assailed his breast.

“Off down to Barrport, Mr Pug?” said Rasp, as he stood in the outer office.

“Yes, instantly. Come, Oakum,” he said, to a rough-looking sailor, who stood hat in hand.

“Sharp’s the word, Mr Pug,” said Rasp; “but I say,” he continued, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder, “that foreign chap, I don’t like the looks o’ he.”

“I tell you what it is, sir,” said the rough-looking sailor, as he walked by Dutch Pugh’s side down to the station. “If I weer much along o’ that Rasp, it would soon come to a row.”

“Why, man?”

“’Cause he’s such a overbearing sort of a chap. He’s one of them kind as always thinks he’s skipper, and every one else is afore the mast. If he’d come aboard the ship and hailed me, I should ha’ ast him to sit down on the deck and handed him the bacco; but when I comes in he sits and stares at one orty like, and goes on taking his bacco, in a savage sorter way, up his nose, and never so much as says, ‘Have a pinch, mate,’ or the like.”

“You don’t know him, my man,” said Dutch, quietly.

“And don’t want to,” growled the old sailor. “I should just like to have him aboard our vessel for a month. I’d show him how to count ten, I know.”

“Well, there are more unlikely things,” said Dutch. “Perhaps he may sail with you.”

“What, are we going off, sir?” said the sailor, facing round.

“I don’t know yet,” said Dutch, “but it is possible.”

“I’m glad on it,” said the sailor, giving his canvas trousers a slap. “I’m tired o’ hanging about the coast as we do. All this diving work’s very well, but I want to get out in the blue again.”

“Tell me all about the upset over the work,” said Dutch. “Is Tolly bad?”

“Not he, sir,” chuckled the sailor. “I’d ha’ cured him with a rope’s-end in about two twos. Didn’t want to go down, and when the skipper turned rusty, and said as how he must, his mates takes sides with him, and say as Mr Parkley wants to send ’em to their death, and then the real sore place comes out – they wants a rise in the pay. ‘Well, then,’ says the skipper, ‘I’ll send for Mr Parkley;’ and then Tolly says in his blustering way, ‘Ah,’ he says, ‘I ain’t afraid to go down, and if I loses my life it’s all the governor’s fault.’ So down he goes, and dreckly after he begins pulling his siggle rope, and they pulls him up, unscrews him, and lays him on the deck, and gives him cold grog.”

“But was he senseless?”

“He wasn’t so senseless that he couldn’t lap the grog, sir, no end; and if he warn’t playing at sham Abraham, my name ain’t Sam Oakum.”

Barrport was soon reached, and, boarding a small lugger, Dutch and his companion were put aboard a handsomely-rigged schooner, lying about four miles along the coast, at anchor, by the two masts of a vessel seen above the water. And here it was evident that arrangements had been made for diving, for a ladder was lashed to the side of the vessel, evidently leading down to the deck of the sunken ship, while four men in diving suits lounged against the bulwarks, their round helmets, so greatly out of proportion to their heads, standing on a kind of rack, while the heavy leaden breast and back pieces they wore lay on the planks.

“Ah, Pugh,” said a weather-beaten, middle-aged man, greeting Dutch as he reached the deck; “glad you’ve come. When I’ve a mutiny amongst my own men I know what to do; but with these fellows I’m about done, especially as they say the machinery is defective.”

“Of course, Captain Studwick,” said Dutch aloud, “men cannot be asked to risk their lives. Here, Tolly, what is it?”

The diver spoken to, a fat-faced, pig-eyed fellow, with an artful leer upon his countenance, sidled up.

“The pump don’t work as it should, Mr Pugh,” he said. “Near pretty nigh gone – warn’t I, mates?”

The others nodded.

“Is the work below very hard?” said Dutch, quietly.

“Well, no, sir, I don’t know as it’s much harder nor usual; but the copper’s heavy to move, and the way into the hold is littler nor usual; ain’t it, mates?”

“Take off your suit,” said Dutch, after glancing at the men at the air-pump, and seeing that they were those he could trust.

“It won’t fit you, sir,” said the man, surlily.

“I’m the best judge of that,” said Dutch; “take it off instantly.”

The man glanced at his companions, but seeing no help forthcoming from them, he began sulkily to take off the copper gorget and the india-rubber garments, with the heavy leaden-soled boots, which, with the help of the old sailor, Dutch slipped on with the ease of one accustomed to handle such articles; then fitting on the leaden weights – the chest and back piece – he took up the helmet, saw that the tube from the back was properly adjusted and connected with the air-pump, which he examined, and then turned to Captain Studwick —

“You’ll see that no one touches the tube, Mr Studwick,” he said, in a low tone. “One of those fellows might feel disposed to tamper with it.”

The captain nodded, and Dutch then lifted on the helmet, the rim of which fitted exactly to the gorget, had the screws tightened, and then, with the old sailor and the captain himself seeing that the tube and signalling cords were all right, the pump began to work, and Dutch walked heavily to the side, took hold of the rungs of the ladder, and began to descend.

In a few moments his head had disappeared, and his blurred figure could be made out going down into the darkness, while a constant stream of exhausted air which escaped from the helmet-valve kept rising in great bubbles. The pump clanked as its pistons worked up and down, and the sailors and divers – the former eagerly and the latter in a sulky fashion – approached the side and looked over.

Captain Studwick himself held the signal-line, and answered the calls made upon him for more or less air by communicating with the men at the pump; and so the minutes passed, during which time, by the necessity for lengthening out the tube and cord, it was evident that Dutch was going over the submerged vessel in different directions. All had gone so well that the captain had relaxed somewhat in his watchfulness, when he was brought back to attention by a violent jerking of the cord.

“More air!” he shouted – “quick!” just as there was a yell, a scuffle, and the man Tolly struggled into the middle of the deck, wrestling hard with a black sailor, who backed away from him, and then, running forward like a ram, struck his adversary in the chest and sent him rolling over into the scuppers.

By this time the signalling had ceased, and Dutch was evidently moving about at his ease.

“What was that?” said Captain Studwick, sternly, as the man Tolly got up and made savagely at the black, but was restrained by the strong arm of the old sailor, Oakum.

Tolly and the black both spoke excitedly together, and not a word was to be understood.

“Here you, Mr Tolly, what is it?” cried the captain. “Hold your tongue, ’Pollo.”

“I bash him head, sah. I – ”

“Hold your tongue, sir,” said the captain. “What was it?”

“I happened to look round, sir, and found this stupid nigger standing on the tube, and when I dragged him off he struck me.”

“Who you call nigger, you ugly, white, fat-head tief?” shouted the black, savagely. “I bash your ugly head.”

“Silence!” cried the captain.

“It great big lie, sah,” cried the black. “I turn roun’ and see dat ugly tief set him hoof on de tubum, and top all de wind out of Mass’ Dutch Pugh, and I scruff him.”

“You infamous – ”

“Silence!” roared the captain. “Stand back, both of you. Oakum, see that no one goes near the tube. Haul in gently there; he’s coming up.”

This was the case, for in another minute the great round top of the helmet was seen to emerge from the water; its wearer mounted the side, and was soon relieved of his casque, displaying the flushed face of Dutch, who looked sharply round.

“Some one must have stepped on the tube,” he said. “Who was it?”

“It lies between these two,” said Captain Studwick, pointing to the pair of adversaries.

“It was the nigger, sir,” said Tolly.

“No, sah, ’sure you, sah. I too much sense, sah, to put um foot on de tubum. It was dis fellow, sah,” said the black, with dignity.

“I presume it was an accident,” said Dutch, quietly. Then, turning to the divers – “I have been down, as you see, my men. The apparatus is in perfect working order, the water clear, the light good, and the copper easy to get at. Begin work directly. If anything goes wrong, it is the fault of your management.”

“But ain’t this black fellow to be punished?” began the man Tolly.

“Mr John Tolly, you are foreman of these divers,” said Dutch quietly, “and answerable to Mr Parkley for their conduct. If one of the sailors deserves punishment, that is Captain Studwick’s affair.”

For a moment there was dead silence, then ’Pollo spoke.

“I not a sailor, sah; I de ship cook. You mind I not put de cork in de tubum, Mass’ Tolly, next time you go down.”

“There! do you hear him?” cried Tolly. “Who’s going down to be threatened like that?”

“Yah, yah, yah!” laughed the black. “Him great coward, sah. He not worf notice.”

Then he turned and walked forward, while Tolly resumed his suit, vacated for him by Dutch, their helmets were put on by two of the men, and diving commenced, Dutch remaining on board till it was time to cease, and having the satisfaction of seeing a goodly portion of the copper hauled on the deck of the schooner, the divers fastening ropes round the ingots, which were drawn up by the sailors.

“That was a malicious trick, of course,” said Dutch to the captain while Tolly was below.

“I’m afraid it was,” said the captain, “to try and make out that the machinery was out of order.”

“Yes, I expected it,” said Dutch; “and that’s why I spoke to you. They did not mean to do me a mischief, of course – only to frighten me. I don’t suspect the black, though.”

“What, ’Pollo!” said the captain. “Good heavens, no! He’s as staunch as steel. A thoroughly trustworthy man.”

“I must wink at it, I suppose,” said Dutch, “for it is not easy to supply vacancies in our little staff, and the men know it. They are hard fellows to manage.”

“And yet you manage them well,” said the captain, smiling. “You ought to have been a skipper.”

“Think so?” said Dutch; “but look, who is this coming on board?”

“Poor John!” said the captain, with a sigh. “Poor boy, he’s in a sad way.”

“But he’s very young, Mr Studwick, and with the fine weather he may amend.”

“He’s beginning to be out of hope, Pugh, and so is poor Bessy. The doctor says he must have a sea voyage into some warmer climate – not that he promises health, but prolonged life.”

“Indeed!” said Dutch, starting, as he thought of the Cuban’s proposal, and the probability of Captain Studwick having charge of the vessel if the trip was made, but not feeling at liberty to say much; and, the boat from the shore touching the side, he held his peace.

A minute later a fine, handsome, but rather masculine girl – whose clear eyes sparkled as they lit on Dutch Pugh, and then were turned sharply away – stepped on deck, holding out her hand directly after to assist an invalid to pass the gangway, which he did, panting slightly, and then pausing to cough.

He was evidently enough the girl’s brother, for with his delicate looks and hectic flush he looked strangely effeminate, and in height and stature the pair were wonderfully alike.

“I don’t think it was wise of you to come out, John,” said the captain, kindly; “it’s a cold, thick day.”

“It’s so dull at home,” said the young man, “and I must have change. There, I’m well wrapped up, father; and Bessy takes no end of care of me.”

He gave the girl a tender and affectionate look as he spoke; and she smiled most pleasantly.

“Ah, Mr Pugh, I’m glad to see you. Have you been down?”

“Yes, just for a little while,” said Dutch, shaking hands with him, and then holding out his hand to the sister, who half shrank from him with an angry, flushed face; but his frank, pleasant look overcame her, and she held out her hand to him.

“You have not been to see us yet, Miss Studwick,” he said, frankly. “Hester quite expects you to call, and I hope you will be friends.”

“I will try to be, Mr Pugh,” said the girl, huskily. “I’ll call – soon.”

“That’s right,” he said, smiling. “Come, too, John. We shall be very glad to see you.”

The young man started, and looked at him searchingly with his unnaturally bright eyes.

“No,” he said, sadly. “I’m too much of an invalid now. That is, at present,” he said, catching his father’s eye, and speaking hastily. “I shall be better in a month or two. I’m stronger now – much stronger; am I not, Bessy? Give me your arm, dear. I want to see the divers.”

The couple walked forward to where the air-pump was standing, and the eyes of the captain and Dutch Pugh met, when the former shook his head sadly, and turned away.