The Hispaniola Plate

"Heavens!" exclaimed Reginald. "How the past repeats itself! Here stand I, a Crafer, watching an Alderly in his cups, even as, two hundred years ago, my relative stood here watching this man's. And he sings there as he drinks, even as his rascally forerunner sang, too-the one when his father has not been dead many hours, the other when he had murdered a man! And Barbara, – well, there is Barbara in place of the fancied Barbara the other conjured up. It is the past all over again, in the very same place, almost the very same hour at night. Let us hope that, as all came well with Nicholas afterwards, so it may with me. And with Barbara, too. Yes, with Barbara, too."

Whereon, seeing that all was well for the present at any rate, he moved silently away and so regained his boat.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

JOSEPH ALDERLY

In the morning, when he woke and went on to the deck of his little craft, he saw Barbara standing on the river's brink-evidently waiting for him to be stirring. Therefore, he at once got into his dinghy and went ashore to her.

"What is he doing now?" he asked, as he took her hand and noticed for the first time the absence of the splendid flush of health upon her face that was generally there. This morning she had dark purple rings under her eyes-as though she had not slept or had been weeping.

"He is asleep now," she said, "after sitting up drinking, singing, and muttering to himself till nearly daybreak. Oh, Mr. Crafer!" she broke off, "what is to be done?"

"What does he know?" asked Reginald in return. "Did he hear any of the story I read to you? How long had he been at the window before you noticed him?"

"I cannot tell. Yet I think he suspects. Before I went to sleep he asked me what brought you here, and whether you were hunting for the treasure, and also what that paper was you were reading to me?"

"And what did you tell him?"

"I would not tell a lie, therefore I said it was an account of the island, written by a connection of yours who had been here long ago." "And then?"

"And then he said he would like to see it. He said he was sure you would show it to him."

"Was he! I am sure I shall do nothing of the kind. Yet I do not know," and Reginald broke off to meditate. Following which he went on again. "But he must see it after all. Barbara, the treasure is his and yours. He must be told."

"No, no," she said. "It is not his-it is yours-yours-yours. Oh! it would be wicked, shocking, to think that you, the only person in the world to whom the chance came of finding out where it is hidden, should not be entitled to it, or at least to half of it. And think, too, of the journey you have made, the expense you have been put to, the trouble you have taken. And all for nothing; to get nothing in return."

"I have got something in return," he said. "Your friendship! Have I not, Barbara?"

"Yes," the girl whispered, or almost whispered, while to her cheeks there came back the rose-blush he loved so much to see. "Yes. But what is that in comparison to what you ought to have?"

"Everything," he replied earnestly. "Everything. Far more, perhaps, to me than you think. But now is scarcely the time to tell you how dear that friendship is. Instead, let us think of what is best to be done."

"At present," she replied, "I am sure the best thing is to keep the secret. If he knew it was there he would get it up somehow-and, I think, he would go away with it. Then you would get nothing."

"But I want nothing."

"I don't care," she replied. "I am determined you shall have half. Oh! promise me, promise me you will tell him nothing unless he agrees to give you half."

At first he again refused, and still again, but at last he agreed to her request, or at least so far consented that he said he would make a proposal to her brother. He would suggest that, on his being willing to divide whatever they should find into three parts-one for Alderly, one for Barbara, and one for him-he would inform him where he thought the treasure was buried. But that he would take no more than a third he was quite resolved, he told her.

"It will be useless," she said, "useless to do that! He will never consent to my having a third; if he did he would take it away from me directly afterwards."

"Would he!" exclaimed Reginald. "Would he! I would see about that."

"At any rate, he would try to do so. Therefore, it would be far better for you to insist on one half. By taking one third you would only get a lesser share, while he would get more."

At last, therefore, Reginald determined he would go and see her brother and, as he said, sound him. Only he was resolved on one thing. Alderly should neither see Nicholas's manuscript nor be told the exact spot where the buried treasure was until they had come to some terms.

"And, remember," he said to her, "if I get one half from him, you take from me what represents one third." To which again the girl protested she would never consent.

After this they parted, she going back to the hut, and he saying he would follow later, since they resolved it would be best to keep the knowledge of their having met that morning from her brother.

When, however, Reginald himself arrived at Alderly's house he found that person gone from it and Barbara alone-standing on the verandah and evidently watching for his coming.

"He has gone down to the shore," she said, "to see if he can find anything of poor father's body. At least that is what he says he has gone for, as well as to see if his boat is capable of being repaired. Alas! I fear he thinks more of the boat than of father's death."

"If he thinks so much of the boat," Reginald remarked, "it scarcely looks as if he has much idea of there being a large treasure to his hand. However, I will go and see him. Where did he come ashore last night?"

"Very near to the Keys," she answered. "Indeed, close by."

So Reginald made his way across the island to that spot, and, when he had descended the crags and reached the small piece of beach there, he saw Alderly engaged in inspecting the wrecked craft which had brought him safely back to his island overnight. It had been at its best but a poor crazy thing-a rough-built cutter of about the same size as the Pompeia, but very different as regards its fittings and accommodation. It was open-decked, with a wretched cabin aft into which those in her might creep for rest and shelter, and with another one forward-but these were all there was to protect them.

"She is badly injured," Reginald said, after having wished Alderly good-morning and received a surly kind of grunt in reply. "I am afraid there is not much to be done to her."

"Mister," said Alderly, suddenly desisting from his inspection, and turning round on the other man without taking any notice of his remark, "I am glad you came here this morning. You and I have got to have some talk together, and we can't do it better than here."

"Certainly," replied Reginald. "What would you like us to talk about?"

"It ain't what I'd like to talk about, but what I am a-going to talk about as you've got to hear. Now, look you here. I ain't no scholar like Barb over there-she was sent to school because the old man was a fool-and I'm a plain man. I've had to earn my living rough-very rough-and p'raps I'm a bit rough myself. But I'm straight-there ain't no man in the islands straighter nor what I am."

"Being so straight, perhaps you will go on with what you have to say. Meanwhile, Mr. Alderly, let me be equally straight with you. Your manner is offensive, and, as you say, 'very rough.' Therefore, I may as well tell you that it doesn't intimidate me. We are both sailors, only I happen to have been in a position of command, while your rank, I gather, has been always more or less of a subordinate one. So, if you'll kindly remember that I expect civility, we shall get along very well together."

Alderly glanced at him, perhaps calculating the strength of the thews and sinews of so finely built a young man; then he said-

"This is my island, you know, mister, and all that's in it."

"Precisely. And you mean that I am in it. Well, so I am. Only, you understand, I can very soon get out of it. The sea isn't yours as well."

"Suppose I wasn't to let you go! Suppose I stopped up the mouth of the river where your craft is a-lying! Then you'd be in it still."

"Yes," said Reginald, "so I should. Only, all the same, I should go when I pleased. I am not a baby-but, there, this is absurd. Say what you want to say."

"Well, I will. What was that paper you was a-reading to my sister in my house last night?"

"A little history of this island, which a forerunner of mine happened to visit some two centuries ago."

"Two cent'ries ago! Oh! It didn't happen to say anything about the treasure old Simon Alderly had stowed away here, did it?"

"Since you ask me so directly, and as it is your business, I will reply at once. It did."

For a moment Alderly's face was a sight to see. First the brown of his face turned to a deeper hue, then the colour receded, leaving him almost livid, then slowly the natural colour returned again, and he said, huskily-

"It did, eh? So I thought, though I don't know why the wench, Barb, told me a lie."

"Are you sure she did tell you a lie? I don't think your sister seems a person of that sort."

"Never mind my sister. Tell me about the treasure-my treasure. I am the heir, you know; I am the only Alderly left after two cent'ries hunting for it-you was right about them cent'ries, mister. Two it was. Where is that treasure? Go on, tell me."

"I have not quite made up my mind about doing that," said Reginald. "It remains for me to decide whether I shall do so just yet."

"It remains for you to decide whether you will tell me where my property is! It does, does it? And what else? – what do it remain for me to do?" and he advanced so close to Reginald and looked so threatening, both from his angry glances and his great height and build, that many a man might have been cowed. But not such a man as Reginald Crafer!

"What do it remain for me to do-eh?" he asked again. "To kill you, p'raps."

Reginald's laugh rang out so loud at this that it might have been heard on the Keys outside-the Keys whereon the treasure was. And it made Alderly's fury even greater than before.

"I could kill you, mister, easy, if I wanted to. And no one would never know of it except Barb. And if she knowed of it, why, I'd kill her too. Anyhow, I mean to have my fortune."

"As to killing," said Reginald, "I don't quite agree with you. You seem to me a powerful kind of a person, without much knowledge, however, of using that power." Here Alderly stamped with fury. "Therefore, you are not so very terrible. However, about your fortune. To begin with, are you quite sure it is yours?"

"Why! whose else is it if it ain't mine?" the bully asked, stupidly now. "Ain't this island mine now father's dead?"

"You say it is, though I am sure I don't know whether you are telling the truth or not. It might be as much your sister's as yours." Alderly burst out laughing, scornfully this time; but Reginald went on. "Your father might have left a will, you know, leaving her a portion of it, or, indeed, the whole, if he didn't approve of your general behaviour."

Alderly laughed again-though now he looked rather white, the other thought; and then he said emphatically: -

"Father didn't leave no papers. So I'm the heir. Girls don't count, I'm told." All of which-both laughter, pallor, and remarks-led Reginald to form a suspicion that whatever papers the elder Alderly might have left had been destroyed.

"I think they do," said Reginald, "and certainly Miss Alderly counts in my opinion. For, if eventually I decide to tell you where your treasure is, she will have to have her portion."

"She will have her portion," said Alderly decidedly, "which will be that I shall look after her. And I suppose you'll want a portion, too."

"Yes, rather," the other replied, remembering that he had promised to make no stipulations about Barbara. So he corrected himself now, and said, "Of course I suppose you will look after her. Well, remembering that, I shall want one half."

"One half!" exclaimed Alderly, almost shouting out the words in his excitement. "One half! My God! One half of all that treasure! Just for coming here to tell me where it is! Why! you must be mad, Mr. Crafer, or whatever you call yourself. Mad! Mad! Why! sooner than do that I'd fetch a hundred o' my pals and mates from all around, from the islands and up from Aspinwall and Colon, and dig the whole place up till we found it. One half!"

"And dig the whole place up!" repeated Reginald. "Just so. Only, you know that when your ancestress, the first Barbara, and her son came here they found the treasure had been removed from the place where Simon left it, and none have ever been able to find it since. Isn't that so?"

"Yes," muttered Alderly, "it is, damn you!"

"Very well. You don't own all the islands round, of which there are some scores, inhabited and uninhabited. And, presuming that the treasure in question has been moved to one of these-and there is no one knows whether it has or not but myself" (he determined not to bring Barbara in further than was necessary) – "what good would all the digging of you and your 'pals and mates' do in this place, Mr. Alderly?"

To which the other could only answer by a muttered curse.

CHAPTER XXXV.

DANGER IMPENDING

Alderly was now at bay!

For a couple of days he raved, stormed, and alternately endeavoured to extract from Reginald and from his sister a hint as to which of the islands the treasure had been removed to. But it was all of no avail. Barbara, whose gentle nature had conceived almost a hatred against her unnatural brother for the utter indifference he had shown to their father's fate, avoided him as much as she could, and, when not able to do so, refused to acknowledge that she knew anything more than that Mr. Crater possessed the secret of the hidden store.

While, as for Reginald, he simply said, whenever Alderly sought him out-which the latter did frequently, since the other would go no more to his hut, – "One half is what I want if we dig it up together."

But to Alderly, who among all his other bad qualities possessed that of inordinate greed, this proposal appeared so enormous that he could not bring himself to consent to it.

"And if we don't dig it up together," said Reginald, who had not the slightest compunction in playing on the fears and covetousness of the man, "why, I shall have to dig it up by myself-which you cannot prevent my doing if it is not on your property, you know. Then I shall take it all, except what I hand over to some lawyer, or English representative, in one of the islands for your sister's use."

"But it is mine, mine alone!" the infuriated wretch would exclaim. "Mine, even if it is outside Coffin Island. Simon was my relative, and he found it."

"And Nicholas Crafer was mine," replied the other, "and he found it, too. It belonged to him as much as to Simon, and, what's more, the secret belongs to me and not to you. And as you are a card player and a 'sportsman,' Mr. Alderly, you'll understand what a strong card that is in my favour."

It was so strong a card that Alderly acknowledged to himself in his own phraseology that "he was beat." That is, he was "beat" by fair means, and, being a brute and a savage in whose nature there seemed to run all the worst strains of his ancestor, Simon, he soon took to turning over in his mind how he could win by means that were foul.

And on how these means could be brought about he pondered deeply, roaming round the island as he did so, Barbara's gun under his arm with which to shoot, now and again, a gull or some other equally harmless or useless bird; or sitting on the crags, or the beach when the tide was out, thinking ever. And what he thought about more than anything else was, "How could he obtain possession of that paper which he had seen in Grafer's hand?" For in that paper lay the secret, he felt sure, of the spot to which the treasure, his treasure, had been removed.

It may be told here that, although he had been outside the jalousie on the night of the storm which drove him home, and his father to his doom, for longer than either Barbara or Reginald knew, he had gleaned but a very imperfect knowledge of what the latter had read out. Some words he had caught, such as "when you have taken your first measurement from the spot where you land, you stick in the ground your sword, and then make, or persevere until you make, all your other strides correspond with what I have wrote down." Yet this told nothing. He had not heard nor caught the mention of the Keys, therefore the measurement might apply to any of the scores of little islands in the Virgin Archipelago. Also he had heard Reginald read out from his papers, "now here is a little map, rough as befits a drawing made by me, yet just and true." But of what use was this map-unless he could set eyes on it! Ah! that was it. If he could set eyes on it!

He had heard other sentences, too; a portion of the conclusion of Nicholas Crafer's narrative, but they would not piece together into one explicit whole. He was, indeed, at bay. He knew the treasure had been moved somewhere, and he knew that, in the possession of this fellow who was now in that gimcrack yacht in the river, was a description of where the treasure was, as well as a map showing the spot; but he knew no more.

And as he thought it all over, sitting upon a crag, he ground his large white teeth and beat the rock beneath him with the butt of Barbara's gun in his rage. But, at last, it seemed that he had made up his mind, had resolved upon his plan; for with a smothered oath-the use of which expletives he was very frequent in-he sprang to his feet, while he muttered to himself-

"One half! One half! Ho! Ho! No! Not one half, not one shilling, not one red cent."

As he rose, there came across the little grassy plateau behind the crag his sister, Barbara. For a moment she paused and glanced at him, and, perhaps because she knew him so well and had studied all his evil moods from infancy, she observed something in his face more evil, more threatening than usual. Then she said-

"I want my gun."

"What for?"

"There are some large parrots come across from Anegada. You said you wanted some for your supper when next a flock came. See, there are two in the gros-gros down there. Give me the gun," and taking it from his hand, she cocked it and aimed at the two birds in the palm-tree half-way down the cliff.

"What is the use?" he said roughly. "They will fall into the sea below and we can never get them, it is too deep."

But ere he could say more she fired, missing her mark, if, indeed, she had aimed at it. Then she uttered an exclamation and dropped the gun, letting it fall a hundred and fifty feet below into the deep sea.

"You fool!" he said, "you infernal fool!" And he looked as though he were going to strike her for her carelessness. "You fool! it was the only firearm we had in the island, and now you have let it go where we can never get it back. Barbara, a beating would do you good. I have a mind to give you one or fling you over the cliff after it."

"It kicked," she said, "and hurt me. And, after all, it doesn't matter much. It was old and scarcely ever shot straight. I could do nothing with it."

"I could, though," he replied, still scowling at her. "It would shoot what I wanted. That was good enough for me."

And Barbara, as she looked him straight in the eyes, said inwardly to herself-

"I know it would shoot what you wanted. That is why it will never shoot again."

He changed the subject after grumbling at and abusing her for some time longer, and said-

"Where's that fellow now, that admirer of yours? I haven't seen him to-day."

"I saw his yacht go out two or three hours ago," she said, treating the remark about Reginald's admiration with infinite contempt-as of late she had treated most of his speeches. "I suppose he has gone for a sail. Or, perhaps, over to Tortola or Anegada to buy himself some food. Since you will not show him much civility, I suppose he does not want to be beholden to you for even so much as a mango or a shaddock."

"I've a mind to put a chain across the river's mouth and stop him ever coming into the river again." But while he spoke he started at a thought that came into his mind, and said-

"My God! Suppose he is gone to the island where he knows the treasure was removed to! Suppose that! And to dig it up and be off with it. Barbara!" he almost shrieked, "which is that island-where is it?"

"Offer him the fair half he requires," she said, "and find out. That's the best thing you can do."

People who live in civilised places do not often see a man with the temper of a wild beast exhibit that temper. There are many men with such tempers, it is true, in the most enlightened and refined spots; but their surroundings force them into some sort of decency, however much they may be raging inwardly. Here, in Coffin Island, civilisation was, if not nonexistent, at least at a discount, and Joseph Alderly, who had the disposition of a tiger without the tiger's redeeming quality-love for its own kind-gave way at Barbara's last remark to such a tempest of fury as would have disgraced that animal. He rushed at his sister, howling, cursing and blaspheming, with the evident intention of hurling her over the cliff, which she-agile as a deer-avoided, so that had he not thrown himself down violently, he must have gone over instead; and then he gave his vile infirmity full swing. Curses on her, on Crafer, even on himself, poured from his mouth; he dug his heels into the earth and kicked stones and, pebbles away from him as though they were living creatures which could feel his fury; and all the time he interlarded his blasphemy with such remarks as, "It is mine, mine, mine. I will have it, even though I cut his throat. Mine! mine! mine! One half-my God! One half!"

Thus the savage exhibited his temper without restraint; it was his only manner of doing so. Had he been an English gentleman, he would probably have had just the same temper, only it would have taken a different shape. He would have browbeaten his wife or female kin, have bullied his servants, and probably kicked his dog. And then, as Alderly soon did, he would have calmed down, feeling much relieved!

Barbara waited until at last he seemed quieter-regarding him with scorn, though not surprise, since she knew his disposition-when she said:

"I don't think you understand Mr. Crafer. Like all his countrymen he can be very firm, I imagine, and like all English sailors" – and there was a perceptible accentuation of the word "English" – "he seems very brave. You won't frighten him."

He still muttered and mumbled to himself-though it seemed to her he was meditating something all through the end of his paroxysm-and at last he said:

"When is he coming back? I suppose you know."

"How should I know, and why should he come back? Your welcome has not been very warm, and, as you say, he may have gone to the other island where the treasure has been removed to."

Again at this, to him, awful suggestion, it seemed as if his brutal fury was going to break out once more, but this time, by an effort that was no doubt terrific, he calmed himself and was contented to exclaim:

"I don't believe that! If he came to fetch it away, why didn't he do so before now? There was no one to interfere with him. You may depend it's all a lie-the treasure's here in my island, and he hasn't dug it up because he couldn't. He was afraid of you before I came back."

"My admirer-and afraid of me! Well!" exclaimed Barbara, with a different note of scorn in her voice now.

"Or he was playing at being your admirer to throw dust in your eyes and get away with it all somehow."

Here Barbara shrugged her shoulders; but even that significant gesture was allowed to pass also without an explosion. He was calming himself, taming himself, she saw plainly, and she guessed at once that he had a reason for what he did. What was that reason? She resolved to know.

"I suppose I must yield," he said, with a strange look in his eyes. "Barbara, we must give in. You go and see him and tell him I'll go halves. Though it's a cruel shame, a wicked shame."