The Hispaniola Plate

Still, all was not yet at its worst, as I found out and you shall see.

Meanwhile, amidst his bellowings and howlings, which I need not again write down, since they varied not, I pondered on what I must do. I had the fellow caged now; if he attempted to come out of the hut I was resolved to shoot him down or run him through as I would a mad dog; indeed, any way, I was determined now to be his executioner. He was a pirate, a thief who had caused us of the Furie much trouble and loss of good life-and here I thought of Israel Cromby and my other poor men, all dead! – also he was a secret murderer. He must die by my hand-but it must not be now when he was mad. I was ordained to be his executioner, I felt, but I would not be a secret murderer myself also. No! not unless I was forced to it.

But, still, I decided now to advance in upon him-the position I was in was cramped and painful; the hut would be better than this, with now many night dews arising from the soil and enveloping of me, and-if the worst came to the worst-I would knock him on the head and secure him. Also, I remembered, I had the treasure to secure. So I moved into the path, rounded it, and, pistol in hand, advanced towards the door of the hut, and, standing in it, regarded him fixedly.

At first he saw me not. The light was growing dimmer, so that to me he looked more like the dull, cloudy spectre of a man than a man itself as he sat there-perhaps, too, I, with nought behind me but the dark night, may have looked the same to him. Then, as he still sat talking to an imaginary figure behind him, his conversation running on the drinking and carousing he and his supposed comrade had once evidently had on the coast of Guinea, I said, clearly though low-

"Alderly, you seem gay to-night, and entertain good company."

In truth, there was no intention in my heart to banter the man or jest with such a brute, only I had to let him know of my presence there, and one way seemed to me as good as another.

Instead of starting up, as I had thought he might do, and, perhaps, discharging a pistol at me, he turned his head towards the door, put that head between his two hands, and peered between them towards where I stood.

"Who is't?" he asked. "I cannot see you. Is it Martin come back from the isles with the sloop?"

This gave me an idea that there were some comrades expected-perhaps from some other villainies! but I had just now no time for pondering on such things, so I replied:

"No, 'tis not Martin. But, 'Captain' Alderly, you should know me; you drank a health to me not long ago. I am Lieutenant Crafer of the Furie."

"I do not know you," he replied; "I never heard of you. Yet you must be dry in the throat. Come in and drink."

In other circumstances I might have thought this to be a ruse-now I could not deem it such. Beyond all doubt he was mad-my only wonder was that such a desperado should not be more ferocious. Perhaps, however, this might be to come.

I sat me down opposite to him and regarded him fixedly in that gloomy light, and it seemed as though I brought by my presence some glimmer of reason to the wandering brain.

"Crafer!" he exclaimed. "Ah yes, Crafer! Drink, Crafer, drink. So thou hast join'd us. 'Tis well, and better than serving Phips. We have more wealth here than ever Phips dreamed of-if we could but get it away. Away! Yes! away! What might we not do if we could but get it to England! We might all be gallant, topping gentlemen with coaches and horses, and a good house, and see ridottos and-but stay, Crafer, you must know my friends." And here the creature stood upon his feet-I standing, too, not knowing but what he was going to spring at me, though he had no such intention-and began naming his phantom friends to me and presenting them, so to speak.

"This," says he, "is Peter Hynde, a gay boy and a good sailor. Also he is our musicianer of nights-he singeth too a sweet song. Stand up, Hynde, and make your service. And this is Will Magnus, with a good heart, but ever lacking money till he joined us. A brave lad! 'Tis he who has cut many a throat! Barbara, my dear, throw thy golden mane back and kiss the brave gentleman-she was but a child, sir, when we found her, yet now, now, she-Ha! again that wound! How the thrust of the steel bites!"

He sank back into his chair, and tore at his damask waistcoat and then at his ruffled shirt-yellow with dirt and spilt drink, and dabbled with thick bloodstains-and so, opening of his bosom, there I did see a great gash just over the heart, in his left pap.

And I wondered not now that he was mad with the drink and the fever of his wound; the wonder was more that he was not quite dead.

He sat a-gazing at this, with his eyes turned down upon it, and muttered,

"One gave it me as from that accursed galliot, as they boarded. It seemed I had gotten my death. Ah! how it burns, how it throbs! Barbara! Black Bess! hast thou no styptic for stopping of this flux, no balm for this pain? Ha! No? Then give me drink, drink; 'tis the best consoler of all, the best slayer of pain." And here he seized his ladle, filled a glass from the tub, and drained it at a gulp. Then he wandered on again: "Barbara, get you up to the chirugeon at Kingston; tell him I am sore wounded."

"Jamaica is far away from here," I said to him. "Barbara will scarce bring you aught from the pharmacie there to-night." Then, bending forward to him across the table, I said, "Alderly, you are wounded to the death; that stab and your drinkings have brought you to the end, or nearly so. Tell me truly, did this," and I kicked the box at my feet, "and these bags of coin come from the plate-ship? Tell me!"

He peered at me through the deepening gloom made by the expiring lamp, as though his senses were returning and he knew me, and muttered:

"More-more-than the plate-ship-this is a treasure house-" and then, suddenly, he stopped and, pointing a shaking finger over my head, stared as one who saw a sight to blast him, and whispered in a voice of horror:

"Look! look! behind you. God! I stabbed him thrice. Yet now he is come back. See him, look to him at the open door. 'Tis Winstanley, the diver of Liverpool. Ah! take those eyes away from me-away-away! 'Twas your hand did it, not mine," and with a shriek the wretch buried his head in his own hands.

That the murdered diver was not there I did know very well, yet the ravings of the man, the melancholy of the hut in the wood, the dimness of the lamp, all made my very flesh to creep, and instinctively I did cast my eye over my shoulder, seeing, as was certain, nought but the moon's flood pouring in at the door. Yet I shivered as with a palsy, for though no ghost was there all around me was ghostly, horrible!

With a yell Alderly sprang to his feet a moment after he had sunk his head in his hands; his looks were worse now than before, his madness stronger upon him; great flecks of foam upon his lips, and from his wound the blood trickling anew.

"Away! away!" he shouted. Then moaned. "Those eyes! those eyes! They scorch my very soul. Away!" And he cowered and shrank, but a minute later seemed to have recovered his old ferocity. "Begone!" he now commanded the spectre of his distorted vision. "Begone!" and with that he rushed forward, forgetting in his madness the table was betwixt him and his fears, and knocking it over in the rush.

And with it the lamp went too. Only fortunately it was at its end, there was no longer any oil in it-otherwise the hut would have been burnt to the ground.

But all was now darkness save for the moonlight on the floor within and on the brushwood without, and, as Alderly recovered himself from his entanglement with the fallen table and trestles, I could see it shining upon his glaring, savage eyes. And he took me-I having been knocked to the door by the crash-for the ghost of the diver, the spirit he feared so much.

"Peace, you fool!" I exclaimed, "there is no spirit here, nought worse than yourself. And stand back, or, by the God above, I will blow your frenzied brains out," and as I spoke, I drew a pistol, cocked it and covered him.

With a howl he came at me, missing my fire in his onward rush, dashing the pistol from my hand with a madman's force, and, seizing me round the waist, endeavoured to throw me to the earth. Yet, though I had no frenzy, I too was strong, and I wrestled with him, so that about the hut we went, knocking over first the tub of liquor with which the place became drenched, and falling at last together on the ground. And all this time, Alderly was cursing and howling, sometimes even biting at me, and tearing my flesh with his teeth, especially about the hands, and gripping my throat with his own strong hands-made doubly strong because of his frenzy. I smelt his hot, stinking, spirit-sodden breath all over me; I could even smell the filth of his body as he hissed out:

"I ever hated you, Winstanley; I hated you when I made your own hands slay you. I hated you in life, I hate you now in death. And as I slew you in life, again will I slay you in death."

Then at this moment he gave a yell of triumph. His hand had encountered the hilt of my sword, and drawing it forth from its broken sheath, he shortened it to plunge it into my breast.

But as he did so I got one of my hands released. I felt for my other pistol, I cocked it with my thumb, when, ere I could fire, the cutlash dropped from Alderly's hand and he sprang to his feet, his hands upon his wound.

"See," he whispered now, "there be two Winstanleys: one here-one coming through the wood. Are there any more-?"

Staggering, he stood glaring forth into the wood through the open door, seeing another spectre, as he thought, there; then slowly he sank to the ground, letting his hands fall away from the gash in his breast, from which the tide now ran swiftly.

"Oh, agony! agony!" he moaned. "Can one live and feel such pain as this. Nay! this is death. Barbara, draw near me. Listen. This hut is full of spoil-beneath-none know but I-all mine-now all yours. The other is buried-elsewhere-Oh! God-the agony! Barbara-rich-rich-for life-lady-fortune-give me drink-drink-" Then once more singing in a broken voice,

"When money's-plenty-boys-we drink To drown-"

he fell back moaning again.

And so he died.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE TREASURE HOUSE

So now I was the last of all left who had come away from the Furie. Neither of my crew nor of this dead ruffian's was there any one to tell the tale but I. A strange ending indeed to such a flight and such a chase.

The dead pirate lay upon his back, the blood from his wound trickling down to mix with the spirit from the overturned cask. The box of treasure lay at my feet, and, if his dying words were true and not spoken in his madness, beneath my feet was a vast treasure.

But ere I thought of that, there were many other things to do. Firstly, and before all, there was rest to be obtained. I had scarcely had any for three days-namely, none in the galliot since we were awaked in our little isle near the reef by the firing of the Furie's guns; and but an hour or so only before the murder of Winstanley, the diver. That was all, and now I could scarcely move for fatigue. I must sleep e'en though I died for it. Only where should I obtain it? Accustomed as I was to rough surroundings, to fightings and slaughter after many years of a sailor's life, this hut with its loathsome dead inhabitant and owner was too horrible and disgusting for me to find rest in it. I could not sleep there! Yet again, neither would I go far away. "The hut," the dying villain had said, "was a treasure house"; he had told the imaginary Barbara-who was she, I wondered, who seemed to have been the centre of such tragedies? – that she was the heiress to great wealth contained within it, or beneath it; I must guard that hut with my life. Especially, I reflected, must I do so since he had thought me to be "Martin come back from the isles with the sloop." If, therefore, this was not also part of his ravings, he was expecting some such person, doubtless a brother pirate-at any moment I might have to defend the place against another ship's crew of scoundrels.

Yet I must sleep. I could do nought until I had rested, but I knew that when such a rest had been obtained, I should feel strong enough to, or at least endeavour to, hold my own. I must sleep!

At last I made up my mind what I would do. The door of the hut, I had learned by my mode of progression, faced to the west, therefore I would close the door, lay myself along outside it, so that the morning sun, now near at hand as I guessed, should not disturb me, and thereby get rest as well as being a guard over the "treasure house." So, loading and priming my pistols carefully-as well as two of Alderly's which I took off his body, and which, in his madness, he had without doubt forgotten he possessed-and placing my cutlash by my side, I once more lay down to sleep.

Undisturbed, I must have enjoyed some hours' repose, for when I awoke the daylight was all around me; the wood outside was bathed in the rich sunshine, though I was sheltered from the rays by the hut; the tiny hum-birds were darting in and out of the many flowers about, thrusting their long bills in them to lick up the honey and the insects; 'twas a sweet spot. Yet, when I arose to enter the hut, all the beauty of the morning and of Nature did seem to me blackened and fouled by that abode.

"Now," I said to myself, "what shall I do?" And instantly I resolved that I would, to begin, make an end of Alderly's carcass. So, having perceived a mattock and spade a-lying in the corner of the place-"perhaps," thinks I, "'twas with them he did bury his treasures" – I stooped down to drag him forth into the copse where I could dig a grave for him. Then, as I bent over him, I saw sparkling in his breast the diamond cross attached to the chain which he wore in many folds round his neck.

I took it off him, and rubbing it and the gold chain clean from his blood, did go to the door to look at it-flashing it about to observe the sparkles of the great gems, holding it out into a dark place the better for to see it by contrast, and so on, as I had seen those do who call themselves judges of such things-which I, a poor sailor officer, could not be. And then I observed there was engraved on the back of the gold-setting some words, which I deciphered to be:

"Mary Roase, Baroness of Whitefields, from her husband, Bevill. Anno Dom. 1598."

"Well," thinks I, "this at least can scarce be from our Spanish wreck. Mary Rose is English enough, we have had ships so named. I dare say the villain pillaged that from some descendant of the lady. If ever I got home I will see if there is any Lord or Lady of Whitefields now."

Then I went forth to dig the grave, which I did three feet deep, not far off the hut, and lugging out the body-after I had still more carefully searched the clothes, and finding a few gold pieces consisting of some Elephant guineas, two or three French and Spanish pieces, and also some ducatoons, all in a bag-soon buried him. This done I went back to the hut, though by now I was hunger-stung and could very well have ate some food. Though this was not to be yet, since I must go to the galliot to find any, his being filthy. But of drink there was a plenty-a sweet rill of cool water running hard by. There was, indeed, another tub unbroached in the corner of the place, but I cared not to drink of the ruffian's provision; why, I know not, since I did not disdain to take his jewels and money. Yet so it was, and I left it alone, drinking only of the water and laving myself in it. "And now for the long box," I said; "let us see what they have robbed us of." For that the box contained what they had gotten up from our wreck I did never doubt. Yet, as you shall see, I was mistaken. I do not now believe, nor did I shortly then, that what that box contained had ever been any portion of our stolen treasure.

I burst it open very easy with the mattock and there I found a rich harvest; so that, indeed, the hut was a treasure house when only it had that box within. Now, this is what I did find, and the list which I here give you (with the valuations against the items by him) is a just and fair copy of that which I did show to Mr. Wargrave, the jeweller and goldsmith of Cornhill (now retired very rich), when I had gotten home again: -

List with Mr. Wargrave, his valuation. Gs.

Two small bags of pearls, weighing with other pearls therein under fifteen grains, as I judged from others shown me by Mr. W. 1,250

One great pearl wrapped in a piece of damask brocade, six-eighths of an inch in its diameter, as I did measure. 2,000

Another, the size of a pigeon's egg, full of most lustrous sheen, wrapped in a piece of deerskin 3,000

A little bag of sapphires, nine in all. 315

Some Turkish pieces of gold about the size and weight of our shillings, twenty-one in all. These I put in my pocket and did sell afterwards in Portsmouth for 14

Some silver pieces, too cumbersome to carry and left with other things, perhaps 5

A little bar of gold 80

Two pistols beautifully inlaid and chased with silver, having engraved thereon the name "Marquis de Pontvismes," and date 1589 30

A portrait of a girl done as a medallion, with blue eyes, red gold hair, and a sweet mouth; perhaps this was Barbara! No value for selling.

A child's coral; also a child's shoes; also a lock of long hair, wheat coloured, wrapped in silk. No value for selling.

And a dagger set with little diamonds and rubies, the blade rusted very much 50 _____ 6,744 _____

I pondered much over these things, for, as I have writ, I am very sure they never came out of the sunken galleon. There was no sign of wet having got near unto the box or its contents, which must have been the case had it been fished up from that wreck, and therefore I thought to myself, this has perhaps been stolen on some cruise they were upon between the time they left their boat at our little isle and then came back to the reef, thinking not to find us, or any, there. Yet this would not do, neither, for their Snow was no fighting ship-not, I mean, a ship fit to attack another carrying treasure, which would be extremely well armed-and she had not fought till we got at her in the river. That I knew from the wounds and damage, when I boarded and searched her, being quite fresh and made by us.

Nor, again, could I deem this box to have been the proceeds of a recent thieving expedition or attack on some sea-coast town or place, for there were not enough men in the Etoyle to have adventured such a thing. They might have attacked a lonely house, or, as the Spaniards call it, a villa, in one of the many islands of this Caribbean sea, or on the main land of Terra Firma, yet this I also doubted, for the contents of the box pointed a different way. The girl in the medallion looked English by her hair, eyes, and colour; the pistols were a Frenchman's. Moreover, the box, the lid of which was all covered with beads pasted on to its lid and worked in many forms of flowers, was likewise English (my mother had just such an one), and to prove for certain 'twas so, inside the lid was the name of the workman who made it, "Bird, Falmouth." So at last my conclusion was this, viz., that Alderly valued the box for some reason of his own, perhaps desired always to have some goods with him that at any crisis he could transform into money, and therefore carried it about with him wherever he went. I never learned that this was so, no more than that it was not so, and now I quitted thinking how it came to be with him. Perhaps I judged right, perhaps wrong. But of one thing I am very sure, he had none of our treasure with him. The casket which did doubtless contain that treasure, which must have been of precious stones alone judging by its size, was of a certainty dropped overboard either before we beat them, or at the last moment of defeat. At least, I never did see any of the treasure, though in going to find it I found a greater. But this you will read ere I conclude, as I hope soon to do. I am coming anigh the end.

Thinking that "Martin with the sloop," or some other wretches, might be returning, I next proceeded to bury for a time the box, which I did by taking it out into the copse and dropping it into a great hollow cotton-wood tree growing near, which I marked well in my mind's eye. Then, next, I set off down to the galliot, for now I wanted food so badly that I could no longer go without it. I had but little fear of any getting up to the hut unbeknown to me, since, with a seaman's ideas to help me, I concluded that the canal, or channel, or river, as, indeed, it was, offered the only safe inlet to Coffin Island. So if they came they must come the way I was a-going, when I could know it and either avoid or encounter them as seemed best.

However, I met none on my way down, and found both the Etoyle and my ship just as I had left them, and the boat tied to the tree, also as I had left it. Then I went aboard the galliot, and finding some food and drink, set to work to stay my cravings. There was none too much, I found, to last long, though as the men had cooked the fish and birds they were still fresh enough. Also there was flour, and bread already made, and some peas, while, for the water, it was nearly all there. The fruit was quite rotten and not to be eaten, but this mattered not at all, since, on Coffin Island, I had perceived several kinds growing with profusion, amongst others many prickly pears.

And now, as I made my meal, I marked out in my mind what I should do to draw matters to a conclusion. And this I decided on.

"It is a treasure house," Alderly had said of his hut, therefore, firstly, I had got to explore that house, hoping to find therein as much if not more than we had been robbed of. Then when Phips and I met again, as I hoped we might, he should decide about that treasure, and what was to be done with it. But first to find it. Yet, even as I thought this there came to me another reflection-viz., that I could not carry it away with me. The galliot would take me to a neighbouring island inhabited by my own people, but an officer alone in such a vessel, with no hands to work it but himself, must necessarily lead to much talk and the asking of many questions-how many more would be asked if that officer were accompanied by boxes and chests of great weight? Therefore, that would never do! I must get away alone, leaving the treasure-if I found any more than I had already gotten-somewhere secure, and then I must come back again for it, properly fitted out. Or, if I could reach Phips ere he quitted the reef, we could come back together in the Furie, take off the goods and so home with no need for further voyagings out and in.

And, on still reflecting, this was what I had a mind to do. The reef was not a long way off; a day and night would take me there, with a favourable wind. Only I must provision the galliot somehow; I must not go to sea thus; but then I remembered, this was easily to be done if I swallowed my squeamishness. The Etoyle was full of food and drink-the former coarse but life-sustaining-if I took that as I took its owner's hordes, then I could get away.

Only, first I had to find the treasure, then dispose of it safely. After that I might go at once. Indeed, if fortune still kept with me, as she had ever done of late, I might be away from this island within another thirty hours.

And so thinking, I finished my repast and set about what I had to do.

CHAPTER XXIV.

WHAT WAS IN THE TREASURE HOUSE

Now, the first thing was for me to get into the Etoyle, and bring a fair provision of food and drink, and then, I thought, I would sink her, or, at least, would get her ready for sinking, so that she, at any rate, should never go on any more evil cruises. This was, however, to be done later.

I went aboard her, therefore, directly I had made my meal, and brought off from her some Boucan, about ten pounds; some dried neats', or deer, tongues, a good amount of powdered chocolate, and some boxes of sweetmeats-the villains seeming to have a dainty taste! – and also I brought away some bottles of Calcavella, a Portygee sweet wine, and a small barrel of rum. And also did I take away some cakes of bread, now very hard and stale, but which, by damping with fresh water and then placing in the sun, became once more eatable. Likewise I provided myself with some of their powder and bullets, not knowing what use I might yet have for such things on the island, or when I was away to sea again.