VII
THE STRIPED CHEST
"What do you make of her, Allardyce?" I asked.
My second mate was standing beside me upon the poop, with his short,thick legs astretch, for the gale had left a considerable swell behindit, and our two quarter-boats nearly touched the water with every roll.He steadied his glass against the mizzen-shrouds, and he looked long andhard at this disconsolate stranger every time she came reeling up on tothe crest of a roller and hung balanced for a few seconds beforeswooping down upon the other side. She lay so low in the water that Icould only catch an occasional glimpse of a pea-green line of bulwark.
She was a brig, but her mainmast had been snapped short off some tenfeet above the deck, and no effort seemed to have been made to cut awaythe wreckage, which floated, sails and yards, like the broken wing of awounded gull, upon the water beside her. The foremast was stillstanding, but the fore-topsail was flying loose, and the head-sails werestreaming out in long white pennons in front of her. Never have I seen avessel which appeared to have gone through rougher handling.
But we could not be surprised at that, for there had been times duringthe last three days when it was a question whether our own barque wouldever see land again. For thirty-six hours we had kept her nose to it,and if the _Mary Sinclair_ had not been as good a seaboat as ever leftthe Clyde, we could not have gone through. And yet here we were at theend of it with the loss only of our gig and of part of the starboardbulwark. It did not astonish us, however, when the smother had clearedaway, to find that others had been less lucky, and that this mutilatedbrig, staggering about upon a blue sea, and under a cloudless sky, hadbeen left, like a blinded man after a lightning flash, to tell of theterror which is past.
Allardyce, who was a slow and methodical Scotchman, stared long and hardat the little craft, while our seamen lined the bulwark or clusteredupon the fore shrouds to have a view of the stranger. In latitude 20 deg.and longitude 10 deg., which were about our bearings, one becomes a littlecurious as to whom one meets, for one has left the main lines ofAtlantic commerce to the north. For ten days we had been sailing over asolitary sea.
"She's derelict, I'm thinking," said the second mate.
I had come to the same conclusion, for I could see no sign of life uponher deck, and there was no answer to the friendly wavings from ourseamen. The crew had probably deserted her under the impression that shewas about to founder.
"She can't last long," continued Allardyce, in his measured way. "Shemay put her nose down and her tail up any minute. The water's lipping upto the edge of her rail."
"What's her flag?" I asked.
"I'm trying to make out. It's got all twisted and tangled with thehalyards. Yes, I've got it now, clear enough. It's the Brazilian flag,but it's wrong side up."
She had hoisted a signal of distress, then, before her people abandonedher. Perhaps they had only just gone. I took the mate's glass and lookedround over the tumultuous face of the deep blue Atlantic, still veinedand starred with white lines and spoutings of foam. But nowhere could Isee anything human beyond ourselves.
"There may be living men aboard," said I.
"There may be salvage," muttered the second mate.
"Then we will run down upon her lee side, and lie to."
We were not more than a hundred yards from her when we swung ourfore-yard aback, and there we were, the barque and the brig, ducking andbowing like two clowns in a dance.
"Drop one of the quarter-boats," said I. "Take four men, Mr. Allardyce,and see what you can learn of her."
But just at that moment my first officer, Mr. Armstrong, came on deck,for seven bells had struck, and it was but a few minutes off his watch.It would interest me to go myself to this abandoned vessel and to seewhat there might be aboard of her. So, with a word to Armstrong, I swungmyself over the side, slipped down the falls, and took my place in thesheets of the boat.
It was but a little distance, but it took some time to traverse, and soheavy was the roll, that often, when we were in the trough of the sea,we could not see either the barque which we had left or the brig whichwe were approaching. The sinking sun did not penetrate down there, andit was cold and dark in the hollows of the waves, but each passingbillow heaved us up into the warmth and the sunshine once more. At eachof these moments, as we hung upon a white-capped ridge between the twodark valleys, I caught a glimpse of the long, pea-green line, and thenodding foremast of the brig, and I steered so as to come round by herstern, so that we might determine which was the best way of boardingher. As we passed her we saw the name _Nossa Sehnora da Vittoria_painted across her dripping counter.
"The weather side, sir," said the second mate. "Stand by with theboat-hook, carpenter!" An instant later we had jumped over the bulwarks,which were hardly higher than our boat, and found ourselves upon thedeck of the abandoned vessel.
Our first thought was to provide for our own safety in case--as seemedvery probable--the vessel should settle down beneath our feet. With thisobject two of our men held on to the painter of the boat, and fended heroff from the vessel's side, so that she might be ready in case we had tomake a hurried retreat. The carpenter was sent to find out how muchwater there was, and whether it was still gaining, while the otherseaman, Allardyce, and myself, made a rapid inspection of the vessel andher cargo.
The deck was littered with wreckage and with hen-coops, in which thedead birds were washing about. The boats were gone, with the exceptionof one, the bottom of which had been stove, and it was certain that thecrew had abandoned the vessel. The cabin was in a deck house, one sideof which had been beaten in by a heavy sea. Allardyce and I entered it,and found the captain's table as he had left it, his books andpapers--all Spanish or Portuguese--scattered over it, with piles ofcigarette ash everywhere. I looked about for the log, but could not findit.
"As likely as not he never kept one," said Allardyce. "Things are prettyslack aboard a South American trader, and they don't do more than theycan help. If there was one it must have been taken away with him in theboat."
"I should like to take all these books and papers," said I. "Ask thecarpenter how much time we have."
His report was reassuring. The vessel was full of water, but some of thecargo was buoyant, and there was no immediate danger of her sinking.Probably she would never sink, but would drift about as one of thoseterrible, unmarked reefs which have sent so many stout vessels to thebottom.
"In that case there is no danger in your going below, Mr. Allardyce,"said I. "See what you can make of her, and find out how much of hercargo may be saved. I'll look through these papers while you are gone."
The bills of lading, and some notes and letters which lay upon the desk,sufficed to inform me that the Brazilian brig _Nossa Sehnora daVittoria_ had cleared from Bahia a month before. The name of the captainwas Texeira, but there was no record as to the number of the crew. Shewas bound for London, and a glance at the bills of lading was sufficientto show me that we were not likely to profit much in the way of salvage.Her cargo consisted of nuts, ginger, and wood, the latter in the shapeof great logs of valuable tropical growths. It was these, no doubt,which had prevented the ill-fated vessel from going to the bottom, butthey were of such a size as to make it impossible for us to extractthem. Besides these, there were a few fancy goods, such as a number ofornamental birds for millinery purposes, and a hundred cases ofpreserved fruits. And then, as I turned over the papers, I came upon ashort note in English, which arrested my attention.
"It is requested," said the note, "that the various old Spanish andIndian curiosities, which came out of the Santarem collection, and whichare consigned to Prontfoot and Neuman, of Oxford Street, London, shouldbe put in some place where there may be no danger of these very valuableand unique articles being injured or tampered with. This applies mostparticularly to the treasure-chest of Don Ramirez di Leyra, which muston no account be placed where any one can get at it."
The treasure-chest of Don Ramirez! Unique and valuable articles! Herewas a chance o
f salvage after all! I had risen to my feet with the paperin my hand, when my Scotch mate appeared in the doorway.
"I'm thinking all isn't quite as it should be aboard of this ship, sir,"said he. He was a hard-faced man, and yet I could see that he had beenstartled.
"What's the matter?"
"Murder's the matter, sir. There's a man Here with his brains beatenout."
"Killed in the storm?" said I.
"May be so, sir. But I'll be surprised if you think so after you haveseen him."
"Where is he, then?"
"This way, sir; here in the main-deck house."
There appeared to have been no accommodation below in the brig, forthere was the afterhouse for the captain, another by the main hatchwaywith the cook's galley attached to it, and a third in the forecastle forthe men. It was to this middle one that the mate led me. As you enteredthe galley, with its litter of tumbled pots and dishes, was upon theright, and upon the left was a small room with two bunks for theofficers. Then beyond there was a place about twelve feet square, whichwas littered with flags and spare canvas. All round the walls were anumber of packets done up in coarse cloth and carefully lashed to thewoodwork. At the other end was a great box, striped red and white,though the red was so faded and the white so dirty that it was onlywhere the light fell directly upon it that one could see the colouring.The box was, by subsequent measurement, four feet three inches inlength, three feet two inches in height, and three feetacross--considerably larger than a seaman's chest.
But it was not to the box that my eyes or my thoughts were turned as Ientered the store-room. On the floor, lying across the litter ofbunting, there was stretched a small, dark man with a short, curlingbeard. He lay as far as it was possible from the box, with his feettowards it and his head away. A crimson patch was printed upon the whitecanvas on which his head was resting, and little red ribbons wreathedthemselves round his swarthy neck and trailed away on to the floor, butthere was no sign of a wound that I could see, and his face was asplacid as that of a sleeping child.
It was only when I stooped that I could perceive his injury, and then Iturned away with an exclamation of horror. He had been pole-axed;apparently by some person standing behind him. A frightful blow hadsmashed in the top of his head and penetrated deeply into his brain. Hisface might well be placid, for death must have been absolutelyinstantaneous, and the position of the wound showed that he could neverhave seen the person who had inflicted it.
"Is that foul play or accident, Captain Barclay?" asked my second mate,demurely.
"You are quite right, Mr. Allardyce. The man has been murdered, struckdown from above by a sharp and heavy weapon. But who was he, and why didthey murder him?"
"He was a common seaman, sir," said the mate. "You can see that if youlook at his fingers." He turned out his pockets as he spoke and broughtto light a pack of cards, some tarred string, and a bundle of Braziliantobacco.
"Hullo, look at this!" said he.
It was a large, open knife with a stiff spring blade which he had pickedup from the floor. The steel was shining and bright, so that we couldnot associate it with the crime, and yet the dead man had apparentlyheld it in his hand when he was struck down, for it still lay within hisgrasp.
"It looks to me, sir, as if he knew he was in danger, and kept his knifehandy," said the mate. "However, we can't help the poor beggar now. Ican't make out these things that are lashed to the wall. They seem to beidols and weapons and curios of all sorts done up in old sacking."
"That's right," said I. "They are the only things of value that we arelikely to get from the cargo. Hail the barque and tell them to send theother quarter-boat to help us to get the stuff aboard."
While he was away I examined this curious plunder which had come intoour possession. The curiosities were so wrapped up that I could onlyform a general idea as to their nature, but the striped box stood in agood light where I could thoroughly examine it. On the lid, which wasclamped and cornered with metal-work, there was engraved a complex coatof arms, and beneath it was a line of Spanish which I was able todecipher as meaning, "The treasure-chest of Don Ramirez di Leyra, Knightof the Order of Saint James, Governor and Captain-General of Terra Firmaand of the Province of Veraquas." In one corner was the date 1606, andon the other a large white label, upon which was written in English,"You are earnestly requested, upon no account, to open this box." Thesame warning was repeated underneath in Spanish. As to the lock, it wasa very complex and heavy one of engraved steel, with a Latin motto,which was above a seaman's comprehension.
By the time I had finished this examination of the peculiar box, theother quarter-boat with Mr. Armstrong, the first officer, had comealongside, and we began to carry out and place in her the variouscuriosities which appeared to be the only objects worth moving from thederelict ship. When she was full I sent her back to the barque, and thenAllardyce and I, with a carpenter and one seaman, shifted the stripedbox, which was the only thing left, to our boat, and lowered it over,balancing it upon the two middle thwarts, for it was so heavy that itwould have given the boat a dangerous tilt had we placed it at eitherend. As to the dead man, we left him where we had found him.
The mate had a theory that at the moment of the desertion of the ship,this fellow had started plundering, and that the captain in an attemptto preserve discipline, had struck him down with a hatchet or some otherheavy weapon. It seemed more probable than any other explanation, andyet it did not entirely satisfy me either. But the ocean is full ofmysteries, and we were content to leave the fate of the dead seaman ofthe Brazilian brig to be added to that long list which every sailor canrecall.
The heavy box was slung up by ropes on to the deck of the _MarySinclair_, and was carried by four seamen into the cabin, where, betweenthe table and the after-lockers, there was just space for it to stand.There it remained during supper, and after that meal the mates remainedwith me, and discussed over a glass of grog the event of the day. Mr.Armstrong was a long, thin, vulture-like man, an excellent seaman, butfamous for his nearness and cupidity. Our treasure-trove had excited himgreatly, and already he had begun with glistening eyes to reckon up howmuch it might be worth to each of us when the shares of the salvage cameto be divided.
"If the paper said that they were unique, Mr. Barclay, then they may beworth anything that you like to name. You wouldn't believe the sums thatthe rich collectors give. A thousand pounds is nothing to them. We'llhave something to show for our voyage, or I am mistaken."
"I don't think that," said I. "As far as I can see they are not verydifferent from any other South American curios."
"Well, sir, I've traded there for fourteen voyages, and I have neverseen anything like that chest before. That's worth a pile of money, justas it stands. But it's so heavy, that surely there must be somethingvaluable inside it. Don't you think we ought to open it and see?"
"If you break it open you will spoil it, as likely as not," said thesecond mate.
Armstrong squatted down in front of it, with his head on one side, andhis long, thin nose within a few inches of the lock.
"The wood is oak," said he, "and it has shrunk a little with age. If Ihad a chisel or a strong-bladed knife I could force the lock backwithout doing any damage at all."
The mention of a strong-bladed knife made me think of the dead seamanupon the brig.
"I wonder if he could have been on the job when some one came tointerfere with him," said I.
"I don't know about that, sir, but I am perfectly certain that I couldopen the box. There's a screwdriver here in the locker. Just hold thelamp, Allardyce, and I'll have it done in a brace of shakes."
"Wait a bit," said I, for already, with eyes which gleamed withcuriosity and with avarice, he was stooping over the lid. "I don't seethat there is any hurry over this matter. You've read that card whichwarns us not to open it. It may mean anything or it may mean nothing,but somehow I feel inclined to obey it. After all, whatever is in itwill keep, and if it is valuable it will be worth as much if it isop
ened in the owner's offices as in the cabin of the _Mary Sinclair_."
The first officer seemed bitterly disappointed at my decision.
"Surely, sir, you are not superstitious about it," said he, with aslight sneer upon his thin lips. "If it gets out of our own hands, andwe don't see for ourselves what is inside it, we may be done out of ourrights; besides----"
"That's enough, Mr. Armstrong," said I, abruptly. "You may have everyconfidence that you will get your rights, but I will not have that boxopened to-night."
"Why, the label itself shows that the box has been examined byEuropeans," Allardyce added. "Because a box is a treasure-box is noreason that it has treasures inside it now. A good many folk have had apeep into it since the days of the old Governor of Terra Firma."
Armstrong threw the screwdriver down upon the table and shrugged hisshoulders.
"Just as you like," said he; but for the rest of the evening, althoughwe spoke upon many subjects, I noticed that his eyes were continuallycoming round, with the same expression of curiosity and greed, to theold striped box.
And now I come to that portion of my story which fills me even now witha shuddering horror when I think of it. The main cabin had the rooms ofthe officers round it, but mine was the farthest away from it at the endof the little passage which led to the companion. No regular watch waskept by me, except in cases of emergency, and the three mates dividedthe watches among them. Armstrong had the middle watch, which ends atfour in the morning, and he was relieved by Allardyce. For my part Ihave always been one of the soundest of sleepers, and it is rare foranything less than a hand upon my shoulder to arouse me.
And yet I was aroused that night, or rather in the early grey of themorning. It was just half-past four by my chronometer when somethingcaused me to sit up in my berth wide awake and with every nervetingling. It was a sound of some sort, a crash with a human cry at theend of it, which still jarred upon my ears. I sat listening, but all wasnow silent. And yet it could not have been imagination, that hideouscry, for the echo of it still rang in my head, and it seemed to havecome from some place quite close to me. I sprang from my bunk, and,pulling on some clothes, I made my way into the cabin.
At first I saw nothing unusual there. In the cold, grey light I made outthe red-clothed table, the six rotating chairs, the walnut lockers, theswinging barometer, and there, at the end, the big striped chest. I wasturning away with the intention of going upon deck and asking the secondmate if he had heard anything, when my eyes fell suddenly upon somethingwhich projected from under the table. It was the leg of a man--a legwith a long sea-boot upon it. I stooped, and there was a figuresprawling upon his face, his arms thrown forward and his body twisted.One glance told me that it was Armstrong, the first officer, and asecond that he was a dead man. For a few moments I stood gasping. Then Irushed on to the deck, called Allardyce to my assistance, and came backwith him into the cabin.
Together we pulled the unfortunate fellow from under the table, and aswe looked at his dripping head, we exchanged glances, and I do not knowwhich was the paler of the two.
"The same as the Spanish sailor," said I.
"The very same. God preserve us! It's that infernal chest! Look atArmstrong's hand!"
He held up the mate's right hand, and there was the screwdriver which hehad wished to use the night before.
"He's been at the chest, sir. He knew that I was on deck and you asleep.He knelt down in front of it, and he pushed the lock back with thattool. Then something happened to him, and he cried out so that you heardhim."
"Allardyce," I whispered, "what _could_ have happened to him?"
The second mate put his hand upon my sleeve and drew me into his cabin.
"We can talk here, sir, and we don't know who may be listening to us inthere. What do you suppose is in that box, Captain Barclay?"
"I give you my word, Allardyce, that I have no idea."
"Well, I can only find one theory which will fit all the facts. Look atthe size of the box. Look at all the carving and metal-work which mayconceal any number of holes. Look at the weight of it; it took four mento carry it. On the top of that, remember that two men have tried toopen it, and both have come to their end through it. Now, sir, what canit mean except one thing?"
"You mean there is a man in it?"
"Of course there is a man in it. You know how it is in these SouthAmerican States, sir. A man may be President one week and hunted like adog the next. They are for ever flying for their lives. My idea is thatthere is some fellow in hiding there, who is armed and desperate, andwho will fight to the death before he is taken."
"But his food and drink?"
"It's a roomy chest, sir, and he may have some provisions stowed away.As to his drink, he had a friend among the crew upon the brig who sawthat he had what he needed."
"You think, then, that the label asking people not to open the box wassimply written in his interest?"
"Yes, sir, that is my idea. Have you any other way of explaining thefacts?"
I had to confess that I had not.
"The question is what are we to do?" I asked.
"The man's a dangerous ruffian who sticks at nothing. I'm thinking itwouldn't be a bad thing to put a rope round the chest and tow italongside for half an hour; then we could open it at our ease. Or if wejust tied the box up and kept him from getting any water maybe thatwould do as well. Or the carpenter could put a coat of varnish over itand stop all the blowholes."
"Come, Allardyce," said I, angrily. "You don't seriously mean to saythat a whole ship's company are going to be terrorised by a single manin a box. If he's there I'll engage to fetch him out!" I went to my roomand came back with my revolver in my hand. "Now, Allardyce," said I. "Doyou open the lock, and I'll stand on guard."
"For God's sake, think what you are doing, sir," cried the mate. "Twomen have lost their lives over it, and the blood of one not yet dry uponthe carpet."
"The more reason why we should revenge him."
"Well, sir, at least let me call the carpenter. Three are better thantwo, and he is a good stout man."
He went off in search of him, and I was left alone with the stripedchest in the cabin. I don't think that I'm a nervous man, but I kept thetable between me and this solid old relic of the Spanish Main. In thegrowing light of morning the red and white striping was beginning toappear, and the curious scrolls and wreaths of metal and carving whichshowed the loving pains which cunning craftsmen had expended upon it.Presently the carpenter and the mate came back together, the former witha hammer in his hand.
"It's a bad business, this, sir," said he, shaking his head, as helooked at the body of the mate. "And you think there's someone hiding inthe box?"
"There's no doubt about it," said Allardyce, picking up the screwdriverand setting his jaw like a man who needs to brace his courage. "I'lldrive the lock back if you will both stand by. If he rises let him haveit on the head with your hammer, carpenter! Shoot at once, sir, if heraises his hand. Now!"
He had knelt down in front of the striped chest, and passed the blade ofthe tool under the lid. With a sharp snick the lock flew back. "Standby!" yelled the mate, and with a heave he threw open the massive top ofthe box. As it swung up, we all three sprang back, I with my pistollevelled, and the carpenter with the hammer above his head. Then, asnothing happened, we each took a step forward and peeped in. The boxwas empty.
Not quite empty either, for in one corner was lying an old yellowcandlestick, elaborately engraved, which appeared to be as old as thebox itself. Its rich yellow tone and artistic shape suggested that itwas an object of value. For the rest there was nothing more weighty orvaluable than dust in the old striped treasure-chest.
"Well, I'm blessed!" cried Allardyce, staring blankly into it. "Wheredoes the weight come in, then?"
"Look at the thickness of the sides and look at the lid. Why, it's fiveinches through. And see that great metal spring across it."
"That's for holding the lid up," said the mate. "You see, it won't lea
nback. What's that German printing on the inside?"
"It means that it was made by Johann Rothstein of Augsburg, in 1606."
"And a solid bit of work, too. But it doesn't throw much light on whathas passed, does it, Captain Barclay? That candlestick looks like gold.We shall have something for our trouble after all."
He leant forward to grasp it, and from that moment I have never doubtedas to the reality of inspiration, for on the instant I caught him by thecollar and pulled him straight again. It may have been some story of theMiddle Ages which had come back to my mind, or it may have been that myeye had caught some red which was not that of rust upon the upper partof the lock, but to him and to me it will always seem an inspiration, soprompt and sudden was my action.
"There's devilry here," said I. "Give me the crooked stick from thecorner."
It was an ordinary walking-cane with a hooked top. I passed it over thecandlestick and gave it a pull. With a flash a row of polished steelfangs shot out from below the upper lip, and the great striped chestsnapped at us like a wild animal. Clang came the huge lid into itsplace, and the glasses on the swinging rack sang and tinkled with theshock. The mate sat down on the edge of the table, and shivered like afrightened horse.
"You've saved my life, Captain Barclay!" said he.
So this was the secret of the striped treasure-chest of old Don Ramirezdi Leyra, and this was how he preserved his ill-gotten gains from theTerra Firma and the Province of Veraquas. Be the thief ever so cunninghe could not tell that golden candlestick from the other articles ofvalue, and the instant that he laid hand upon it the terrible spring wasunloosed and the murderous steel spikes were driven into his brain,while the shock of the blow sent the victim backwards and enabled thechest to automatically close itself. How many, I wondered, had fallenvictims to the ingenuity of the Mechanic of Augsburg. And as I thoughtof the possible history of that grim striped chest my resolution wasvery quickly taken.
"Carpenter, bring three men and carry this on deck."
"Going to throw it overboard, sir?"
"Yes, Mr. Allardyce. I'm not superstitious as a rule, but there are somethings which are more than a sailor can be called upon to stand."
"No wonder that brig made heavy weather, Captain Barclay, with such athing on board. The glass is dropping fast, sir, and we are only just intime."
So we did not even wait for the three sailors, but we carried it out,the mate, the carpenter, and I, and we pushed it with our own hands overthe bulwarks. There was a white spout of water, and it was gone. Thereit lies, the striped chest, a thousand fathoms deep, and if, as theysay, the sea will some day be dry land, I grieve for the man who findsthat old box and tries to penetrate into its secret.
The Dealings of Captain Sharkey, and Other Tales of Pirates Page 7