CHAPTER XXVII.
THE NARRATIVE ENDS
'Twas at the Navy Tavern at Portsmouth that I learned that Phips had preceded me home but a fortnight, that he had sailed to the Downs with the Furie and all her contents, and that, most faithful to his word, he had sent a letter for me. In it he said that he prayed to God I might some time or other get back safe to England-and that, if he should be gone away again, he would charge himself to leave my share of the sale of the treasure in safe keeping, of which I should be advised both by a letter to the Admiralty directed for me, and also by another to this tavern. Likewise, he said, he trusted that I had been able to come up with that most uncommon rogue and villain, Alderly, that I had taken vengeance of him for his treachery, and that I had recovered whatever I might find he had stolen from the Plate Ship. And if, he said, I had been enabled to bring that stolen wealth back with me, then I was to communicate with his Grace of Albemarle-supposing him, Phips, gone-who should see that it was properly directed to the right quarters.
So there was now nought for me to do but to make for London myself, after I had slept one night in the old town, changed a few of the gold pieces I had taken off Alderly ere I buried him, and bought me a fair decent change of clothes in which to travel and appear in London. And in fifteen hours I was there from the time of my setting out, and once more ensconced in an inn I had heretofore patronised, namely, "The Blossoms," in Lawrence Lane, Cheapside.
The finding of Phips after this was by no means difficult; even at the inn they had heard of his arrival: they told me, indeed, that there was much commotion both on Change as well as in Court and Naval circles at the amount of treasure he had brought home with him; while-says my hostess to me-
"Might you, sir, be the gentleman they say he left behind to chase those cruel, wicked pirates who had stolen part of the treasure he did find?"
I answered that I was indeed that officer, whereon she told me that the town talked much about me, that even some of the journals had written discourses upon my having gone off to chase pirates in nought but a ship's boat-as they termed it-and that it would be a fine thing for the gentry who produced those sheets when they should hear that I was safe back so very little a while after Phips himself.
However, I wanted to see Phips himself, and this I very soon did, finding of him by presenting myself at the Duke's house, where I noticed a most extraordinary bustle going on, and discovered that his Grace was just about to proceed to Jamaica to take up the governorship thereof. Poor man! he did but enjoy it a year, all of which time he was thinking of nought but finding new treasure round about that island, and then at the end of that his bottle took him off. However, 'tis the present I have to tell of, and will, therefore, but say that, ten minutes after my announcement, the Duke came to me.
"Now," said he, greeting me, "this is the joyful day, Lieutenant Crafer; I do indeed rejoice to see you back safe and sound, and so will Phips. He is hard by-he shall be sent for."
Whereon he ordered a man to go to the lodgings and to tell Sir William Phips that Lieutenant Crafer was gotten home safe and sound.
"Sir William Phips!" I exclaimed. "Sir William! So! has he come to such honour as that?"
"He hath, indeed," laughed the Duke, who seemed more jolly now than when we went out with the Furie-perhaps his new appointment making him so-"he hath, indeed. The King seemed so well pleased with his tenth that he insisted on knighting our friend, and hath even silenced those wretches of the city who say that-that Phips, and-well, no matter."
"What do they say, my Lord Duke?" I asked, though I could very well guess.
"Oh! 'tis nothing, a trifle! and, since neither the King nor I believe it, not to be considered."
"I can imagine what they say, your Grace," I exclaimed. "It is that we have feathered a nest somewhere-that all has not been brought home that was found. Yet, 'tis not true-"
"Tush, man, tush!" interrupted the Duke. "Who shall think it is?"
"It is not true," I went on. "Every farthing's worth Phips got he brought home, I will swear-while as for what Alderly stole from the plate ship, why, they sunk it when we boarded them."
"Man alive!" exclaimed the Duke, "who doubts it? I do not, who am the chief concerned, nor will the King hear a word. See, here is a testimony I mean to give to Phips. A gold cup I have had made out of a thousand pounds' worth of the treasure. 'Tis for his wife in Boston, now Lady Phips, to whom he hath sent out instructions to buy a fine brick house to live in. For, you must know, the King hath promised him the Governorship of Massachusetts as soon as it falls vacant, when he will be settled for life."
I regarded the cup, very costly and beautiful, engraved, "From Christopher, Duke of Albemarle, to his trusty friend, Sir William Phips," while the Duke bade his servant bring us a tankard, and at that moment in came Sir William himself hot haste to see me.
*******
"No," he said to me that night, as we sat at wine in his lodgings hard by the Strand, "no, Nick, that hidden treasure is yours, and yours alone. It belongs not to our providers here, nor does any share pertain to me. You it was who found it, you it was who had all the risk in going to find it. It shall be yours and yours only, since none other of the galliot's crew are now in existence. Only," he went on, "as now you are provided for, I would leave it there awhile. Say, for another generation. For if you go and dig it up now, then will the merchants say that they spoke truly when they accused us of robbing them."
"I shall never go to dig it up," I said, "I will go to sea no more. The Duke tells me there is four thousand pounds for me at Sir Josiah Child's-'tis enough to do very well for my life. I will buy me a little house somewhere, and an annuity from some nobleman with the rest."
"And," went on Sir William, "in that little house find out a hiding place, and leave therein a full description of where your treasure is, so that those who come after you shall, if they care to be at the trouble thereof, discover a fortune. You will be marrying now, Nick, perhaps?"
"Nay," said I, "I think not. Never now! Once when my heart was young and fresh I did love a sweet young girl-she was the daughter of a retired officer of Oliver's, and they dwelt at Kew-but the smallpox ravaged the land and took her from me. I find myself thinking of her often now; perhaps 'tis because the time is drawing near when I shall see her again, as young and fair as she was in those bygone, happy days; but I shall never have a wife."
"Poor Nick, poor Nick," said Phips, laying his great hand very gently on my shoulder. "Poor Nick. So you have had your romance too. Ah, well! so have most men." Then a little later he said, "You know I go out again with Sir John Narborough-I cannot rest quietly at home in Boston till my rule begins in Massachusetts-we shall be near your little Key-shall I go and dig your spoil up? I would do it most faithfully for you, Nick, as you know."
"No," I answered, after pondering awhile. "No, not unless you will do so and take it, or some of it, for yourself."
"That," said he, "I will never do. Not a stiver, not one coin. 'Tis all yours."
"Then let it lie there," said I, "for those who shall come after me. There is one other Crafer left in Hampshire, a country gentleman, who has perhaps some children now. It shall be theirs when I am gone if they choose to search for it."
So we parted for the last time, not without tears in our eyes, we having been so much to each other for so long that we could not easily say farewell.
As for him, he went on his cruise with Sir John Narborough, but, as he after wrote me, he found nothing.
And then the time came for him to take up his rule in his own land, which he did wisely and well, and perhaps because of his old belief in sooth-sayers, and wizards, and geomancers-and, indeed, the knave I have writ of did tell his fortune most wondrously, even to his becoming a ruler though not a King-he spared many in New England who would have been barbarously entreated otherwise. And he took with him a fine gold medal, which the now fast falling King had had struck in honour of his finding the galleon's wreck, having on it the words Semper tibi pendeat Hamus, which the curate of Mortlake did afterwards translate for me as meaning, "May thy fishing always be as good to thee."
It bore on it a supposed drawing of the Furie, but none too accurate, though near enough.
Of the treasure the Duke took £90,000, His Majesty's tenth was something under £20,000, but not much, and the merchants got many of them £8,000 to £10,000, for every £100 they had adventured. This is speaking roundly, as I have heard sums of more and less mentioned in connection with all concerned. Phips's share, as he told me, was £16,000, and would have been more had he not out of his own purse paid to a-many of the seamen some sums which the merchants withheld from them. Cromby's old mother was dead, I found on inquiring, so that I could do nothing there.
Now, 'twas some six years afterwards, and when James had been gone nigh that time to France, that Phips wrote to me he was a-coming to England and hoped among others to see me. Yet, alas! we never met again. I was at this time sore troubled with gout and rheumatism-though, I thank God, much of both have passed away-and I could not, therefore, go to see him. Nor, neither was he ever able to come to me. He had not been in London many days when he catched a cold, and this turning to a fever he died. And he was buried in the Church of St. Mary Woolnoth, where, when I was recovered, I went and said a prayer above his tomb.
Why should I write a funeral sermon on him for those who never knew him? Suffice, therefore, if I say that he was honest, manly, and God-fearing, and a better man did never live. To me, his subaltern, he was ever kindly, gentle, and friendly, very courteous, yet also, when we came to know each other, very brotherly; and to conclude, I loved him. No need to say more.
Now I have done. Almost all the evenings of four months it hath taken me to write this story down-I beginning of it in the bleak cruel nights of winter, and ending of it when the leaves are pushing forth. And I have written as truly as I know how, telling no lies, and trying also very hard to make my story understandable to whomso'er shall come across it.
My house-which I bought here, because 'twas across the river in years agone I used to wander with the girl I loved so dear, and because I can see the paths where we walked when I arise from my bed every morning-I shall leave to a Crafer for ever, so that some day, if the line dieth not out, one of that name must find the clue. That it shall be a Crafer I do earnestly hope, but if not it cannot be helped. And in conclusion all I will now say is, that I do pray that whosoever readeth this narrative, and whosoever afterwards shall find the buried treasure on the little Key, he will use it well and nobly, devoting some part of it, if not all, to God's service. Amen.
Nicholas Chafer.
The Search by Reginald Crafer
CHAPTER XXVIII.
OFF TO THE VIRGIN ISLES
The passengers by the Royal Mail steamer, especially the younger and fairer members thereof, felt an emotion of genuine regret when Reginald Crafer left the ship at Antigua, there to make the connection with the company's vessel, the Tyne, which runs to Anguilla and Tortola fortnightly.
For like so many, nay, almost all naval officers with but few exceptions, Reginald possessed those manly and pleasant graces which soon endear a stranger to any number of persons among whom he may happen to be thrown; and ere the steamer-crowded with tourists of the better class who were avoiding the rigour of our winter by a tour in the West Indian Islands-had been a week out of Southampton, he had made himself a general favourite. Of course he could dance-when did a sailor ever exist who could not? – also he could sing; he had seen much of the world and he was good-looking. Let anyone who has been on an ocean trip say if these accomplishments and charms are not sufficient to at once make a man popular in the community assembled on such an occasion.
And also there was about him some slight tinge of mystery, some little reticence on his part, as to what he wanted or desired to do at Anguilla or Tortola, which added a flavour to the manner in which this handsome young officer was regarded. For at either of these islands there is nothing for a man to do at all, unless he should desire to pass his life in breeding herds of goats, cows, or sheep, or in fishing, or rearing poultry, or cultivating a little cotton or sugar. And certainly Reginald Crafer did not seem to be a man of that sort.
"It can't be to see the bloomin' islands," said a bagman on board who was not a favourite, though possessing vast information about the locality, derived from visiting the whole of the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea on business, "because there's nothing to see, and as a naval officer I'll bet he's seen enough islands. And it can't hardly be a gal."
"Scarcely, I should imagine," said a stately young lady, by whom, as by others, this person's remarks were not much appreciated, "since I believe there are few gentlemen or ladies there except the Consuls and their families. Nor do I see that Lieutenant Crafer's business is your affair or mine," whereon she turned on her heel and left him.
Meanwhile Reginald, who, perhaps, was not unconscious of the curiosity he had raised, though taking no notice of it, had plenty to think of as well as having always to keep a guard upon his tongue.
Indeed, it would not be saying too much if the announcement was made that the discovery of Nicholas Crafer's statement had produced a total change, not only in this young man's method of life, but also in his mind.
When he had finished the perusal of that statement (which, you may remember, he began one November afternoon) another day had come; a foul, murky, fog-laden atmosphere was doing duty for the dawn. The river reeked with it, and so did the fields across the Thames. Also the fire had gone out now, though he had made it up several times during the night, the lamp had consumed nearly the last drop of oil in its glass bowl, and he could hear his old housekeeper and general servant shuffling about upstairs as though preparing to begin the day. And his eyes were wet with tears-tears which the last page or two of that finely-written, often misspelt, and sometimes nearly illegible manuscript had caused to spring to them. For to him, young and impressive-though as yet his heart had never been fairly touched by Love's rose-tipped wings-there seemed a sadness inexpressible in the story of his ancestor's love for the daughter of one of Oliver's officers who had died so young, and of the manner in which he had bought the house, so that daily, when he arose, the first place to meet his eyes should be the spot where they had walked together in those long-forgotten years.
"Poor old Nicholas!" he thought, as he went to the French windows and drew the heavy curtains that protected the room from the river's damp, and peered across that river to the other side; "poor old Nicholas! It was there you used to walk with her when you were both young. It was there, when you had grown old and she had long since gone and left you, that you used to gaze and dream of her. And," he went on, as he turned back into the room, "it was here, in this very spot, two hundred years ago, that you sat night by night writing that story alone, as I this night have sat alone and read it. I almost wonder that your ghost did not come forth and stand at my elbow, and peer over my shoulder at your crabbed, crooked handwriting as I did so."
He dropped the manuscript in his pocket as he finished his meditations and, going upstairs, met the old housekeeper coming down.
"Lawks, Mr. Reginald!" she said with a start, "what a turn you give me! Whatever have you got up so early for?"
"I have not been to bed yet, Maria," he said, "but I am going now." Then, observing her look of astonishment and the shaking of her head-perhaps she thought he had been wassailing in London and had only just come down by the early train-he said, "I have been engaged all night over some family papers. Call me at twelve and get some breakfast ready by then. I shall go to town directly afterwards. And, Maria, I shall be going abroad again soon; you will have the house all to yourself once more."
"Ha!" she said, with a grunt; "well, who's afraid? I ain't, neither of ghostes nor burgulars, tho' we had one-"
But Reginald was on his way to bed before she had finished her oration.
"The first thing to be done," he thought to himself, as he splashed about in his bath after that five hours' sleep-which was enough for him, since it was more than a watch below-"is to get a promise from the first Sea Lord, on the ground of 'urgent private affairs,' that I shall not be called upon to serve for another year. If I can manage that, then off I go to Coffin Island and dear old Nick's treasure. Lord bless me! how I would like to have known Nick-as Phips called him."
There had come into the young man's heart as he read that paper a feeling which, I suppose, often comes into the hearts of most of us who have ever had ancestors-the feeling that we would like to have known them, to have seen them and to have shaken hands with them, observed the quaint garb they wore, and listened to their quaint speech. So it was now with Reginald. He would have liked to have heard Nicholas tell the story instead of having read it, would like to have stood by his side when he fought the Etoyle, to have been by him when the drunken and delirious pirate died singing his song, to have accompanied him on that solitary voyage when he kept-good honest man! – a cheerful heart and trusted to his God alone to watch over him.
"I wonder whose treasure it was that he found?" the young man meditated-"not Alderly's, at any rate. The pirates never buried their treasure, though the story-books say they did, but rather took it with them to their favourite haunts to spend in a debauch. Even Alderly was doing that at the time Nicholas captured him; he had his box with him, full of ready money for spending purposes. And those others, those antique coins, those jewels and precious things, what were they? Buried, perhaps, by some French refugee who had been cast away on Coffin Island and found by Alderly, or stolen from some French treasure ship by an earlier pirate than Alderly, yet still found by him. Shall I ever know?"
But, whether he would ever know or not was a matter of very small importance to Reginald Crafer, in comparison with the fact that he was going to find them again himself, if he possibly could. For that they should not lie any longer in the middle Key above Coffin Island than it would take him to go and fetch them, he was very firmly resolved.
"The Key isn't likely to have shifted," he reflected, "nor to have become entirely covered by the sea for good and all. And if it has, why, science has advanced a bit since the days of Nicholas, and we will have it out. The treasure has been found twice as it has been buried twice-once by its original owner, as I believe, and once by Nicholas; I'll make the third finder. There's luck in odd numbers!" and remembering his Latin, of which he had a better knowledge than his sailor relative had had, he murmured, "Numero deus impare gaudet!"
The First Sea Lord proved kind, perhaps because Reginald was a young officer who had done well and was favourably known already, besides having once served in his own flag-ship and come under his notice; and though he hummed and hawed a little at first, and talked a good deal about the shortness of lieutenants, and so many being required to be called out for the Naval Manœuvres, and so on, at last said that he thought he might promise that Lieutenant Crafer's services should not be asked for for another year. Then, next, the young man bought a chart of the Caribbean Sea, and, as the charts of to-day are rather better than they were in the elder Crafer's time, he found Coffin Island marked very plainly, though still not named, thereon; and he also saw the three Keys dotted on it. "So that's all right and comfortable," Reginald said to himself, whereon he at once made all his plans for going on his search, and, as has been told, had by now arrived at Antigua, whence the Tyne goes fortnightly to Tortola and Anguilla.
Yet, when he had settled down here to wait for that vessel's sailing-which would not be for another forty-eight hours-he scarcely knew how he should set about his work. Coffin Island might be inhabited by now, for all he knew, though judging by the little knowledge possessed of it by any of the personnel of the ship in which he had come out, it did not appear very probable that it was. Nobody on board that ship could say whether it was occupied or not, most of the officers, indeed, being a little hazy as to where Coffin Island was.
However, by the next day he had gained one piece of information which might or might not be true, but that, if the former, was likely to throw some difficulties in his way. He had learnt that there were inhabitants-as his informant believed, though he wouldn't be certain-on the island; for that there was such a place as Coffin Island was very well known in Antigua, if not in the Royal Mail steamers.
He had encountered as he lounged about the hotel in St. John's-which is the capital of Antigua, – one of those busy gentlemen who are to be found in almost every part of the world to which strangers come and go: an American. This worthy person, who was young, tall, and dandified, having in his "bosom" a beautiful diamond pin, addressed Reginald the first moment he saw him with such a flood of offers and questions as almost stunned him; yet so long was the flow of oratory that it gave him time to collect his thoughts and be wary.
"If," said Mr. Hiram Juby, as he handed out a big card with that name on it, "you are thinking of settling here, I can be of assistance to you. Though, if you're buying land, I should scarcely recommend Antigua. It is not very remunerative and not cheap. Now, in Dominica, which has no export duties, sir, Crown land can be obtained for two dollars and a half an acre. Trinidad is five dollars, St. Lucia five; Tobago, also without export duties, is two and a half. I am also an agent for the United States Governmental Insurance Company, patronised and insured in by the first families of the-"
"I am not thinking of buying any land, Mr. Juby," Reginald said, quietly.
"Then you must be a tourist. Therefore, you will want to know the best hotels. Now there is-"
"I shall stay at no hotels," Reginald again replied.
"Stay at no hotels! Then you are perhaps going to camp out. If so, I have the agency for some of the best United States tents, utensils, rifles and guns, hickory fishing-rods, and so forth. Sir, will you take a cocktail, or shall we try a dish of mangrove oysters? Or, if you are a conchologist, mineralogist, or botanist, I should like to show you some collections I have for sale which would save you much labour and classification-"
"Sir," said Reginald, "I am none of those things! I am a sailor amusing myself with a visit to this lovely spot. I want nothing," and he turned on his heel.
"Stay, sir, stay, I beg," Mr. Juby said, going after him as he left the verandah. "You are a sailor visiting this lovely spot, and you want nothing I can supply you with! Why, sir, I have the very thing for you-a thing that would have suited nobody but a sailor. I have a little thirteen-ton cutter yacht-it belonged to Sir Barnaby Briggs-your countryman, sir, who died of drink, so they said, not I, in Guadaloupe-but then these French will say anything but their prayers. And I will let it you, sell it to you, furnish it for you, find you a sailor man or so-"
"What," said Reginald, interested now, for he thought perhaps here was the best way of all in which to visit Coffin Island-"what do you want for the hire of it?"
But before even these terms could be arranged, Mr. Juby insisted-and he would take no denial-that they should be discussed over the most popular drink in all the West Indian Islands, a cocktail; so on to the verandah they went to partake of one. And it was among the various acquaintances to whom Mr. Juby-in thorough American fashion-insisted on "presenting" Reginald, that he learnt that Coffin Island was inhabited.