The Pirate Island

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by Harry Collingwood


  Another paper was lighted; and, placing himself in front of his companion, or between her and the edge of the chasm, in order to guard against the possibility of her turning faint or giddy and falling over, Lance raised the light at arm’s-length above his head to glance round. As he did so, the tiny flame wavered, as if fanned by a faint draught. He looked at it intently for a moment, and noticed that the wavering motion was continuous, and such as would be produced by a steady current of air flowing in the direction in which they had been proceeding. Then he knelt down and held the lighted paper close against the surface of the ground. The flame burnt steadily for an instant and then betrayed a very slight draught in an opposite direction. Then it went out, the paper being all consumed.

  He thought intently for a moment; then turned to his companion and said—

  “Blanche, dearest, we are saved. Pluck up your courage, my own love, and thank God with me for showing us a way out of this terrible labyrinth.”

  “I don’t understand you, Lance,” answered the girl, trembling with agitation; “are you only saying this to sustain my courage a little while longer, or do you really mean that you believe there is still a chance of our emerging once more into the blessed light of day?”

  “I mean, dear, that I hope and believe we shall escape. Listen. That bit of lighted paper has revealed the presence of two distinct currents of air flowing along this passage. That means that an outlet to the open air exists somewhere. The upper current, which is the warmer of the two, is flowing in the direction of that outlet; and all we have to do is to follow in the same direction, if we can, and we shall eventually reach the opening.”

  “Then let us proceed at once, Lance dear, please,” pleaded poor terrified Blanche. “I feel as though I should go mad if we remain here much longer. I have a frightful feeling urging me—almost beyond my powers of resistance—to fling myself forward over the edge of that dreadful chasm which is yawning to receive me. Oh! save me, Lance darling, save me for pity’s sake.”

  “I will save you, dear, if it is in man’s power to do so,” answered Lance, “but you must help me by keeping up your courage; you know I cannot possibly think and reason calmly whilst you continue in this deplorable state of nervousness. Now, I will light another paper—our last—and we will move forward at once. Keep close to the wall, and he ready to give me your right hand as soon as the light shines out.”

  Another moment, and a feeble glimmer once more illumined the Cimmerian darkness.

  Holding the light in his right hand, Lance gave his left to Blanche, and they cautiously resumed their way. The ledge along which they were passing was about six feet wide; but a yard or two further on it narrowed abruptly, leaving a path barely twelve inches in breadth. It continued thus for a length of some twenty feet, and then widened out abruptly again, apparently to the full width of the passage. It seemed, in short, as though the terrible chasm terminated at this point.

  Luckily, Lance was the first to see it, and his resolution was at once taken. He dropped the lighted paper as if by accident, and extinguished it by setting his foot upon it. He knew that if his companion caught so much as a single momentary glimpse of the short but frightfully perilous passage she would have to make, her nerve would utterly fail her, and too probably a dreadful catastrophe would happen. So he resolved upon the hazardous attempt to get her past the danger blindfold.

  “Tut! what a clumsy fellow I am!” he exclaimed pettishly, as though in reference to his having dropped the lighted paper. “Now I shall have to expend another match. But, Blanche, your nerves are still unsteady; the sight of this threatening gulf is too much for you. I think you would do better blindfold. Give me your handkerchief, dear, and let me tie it over your eyes. I will remove it again as soon as we are past the chasm.”

  “Thank you,” said Blanche. “I really believe I should feel better if the sight of that dreadful place were shut out. I can trust to your care and courage; but I confess with shame that, as far as I am concerned, I am thoroughly unnerved.”

  Lance took the handkerchief which Blanche put into his hand, and bound it gently but firmly over her eyes, arranging it as well as he could in the darkness in such a manner as to make the blinding perfectly effectual.

  He then led her cautiously forward a step or two until he felt with his outstretched foot the edge of the precipice, when, bidding her stand perfectly still and to cling firmly to the irregular surface of the rock, he once more lighted the short remaining end of paper, utilising its brief existence to note well the perilous path they had to tread.

  “Now, sweetheart,” he said briskly, “do you feel better, and fit to go on?”

  “Oh, yes,” was the reply, in a tone so bright and cheerful that Lance felt intensely relieved; and he forthwith set about the difficult task of getting his companion past the narrow ledge without further delay.

  By the last expiring gleam of his short-lived taper, Lance took one more rapid glance at the terrible pass, and then, as the thick darkness once more closed round them, he said—

  “Now, dear, you must be very cautious how you move. Keep close against the rock, and take a firm hold of any projections you can find. Do not move until you have a firm hold with both hands, nor without telling me of your intention, as I shall keep close to you and give you the support of my arm. And do not loose your hold of the rock with one hand until you have secured a firm grip with the other. Now, have you a tight hold? Then move gently along, side wise; and keep close to the rock.”

  The dreadful journey was begun. Slowly and cautiously the pair groped their uncertain way along that narrow ledge, each pausing until the other was ready to proceed; and Lance with difficulty restrained a shudder as once during the passage he felt that the heel of his boot actually projected over the awful ledge. A dozen times he felt outwards with his foot to ascertain whether the chasm was passed or not, and at last, with an involuntary sigh of ineffable relief he found that there was solid ground beyond him as far as his foot could reach.

  “Now stand quite still for a moment, Blanche,” he said. “I am about to light another match.”

  He did so, and found that they had indeed achieved the awful passage—with some six inches to spare. At his very feet still yawned the hungry gulf, but they were beyond it, thank God, and once more in comparative safety. Hastily seizing his companion’s hand, he hurried her far enough away from the spot to prevent her seeing the deadly nature of the peril to which they had been exposed, and then removed the bandage from her eyes.

  “There,” he said cheerfully, “we are past the chasm at last, and now you may have the use of your eyes once more.”

  Lighting another match, the imprisoned pair now pressed forward as rapidly as circumstances would permit, taking care to keep a match always alight in order that they might not stumble unawares upon a possible second chasm or other danger. They pressed forward in silence, except for an occasional word of caution or encouragement from Lance, both being far too anxious to admit of anything like a connected conversation.

  Suddenly Lance stopped short. To his sense of hearing, acutely sharpened by the long-continued death-like silence of the place, there had come a sound, fainter than the breathing of a sleeping infant, a mere vibration of the air, in fact, but still—a sound.

  What was it? He knelt down and placed his ear close to the ground. Yes; now he caught it a trifle more distinctly; the faintest murmur still, but with something of individuality appertaining to it. It rose and fell rhythmically, swelling gradually in volume, and then subsiding again into silence.

  “Hurrah!” he shouted joyously. “The sea! the sea! I can hear it. Courage, Blanche darling, our journey is nearly at an end. One short half-hour at most, and, with God’s help, we shall be free.”

  Again they pushed eagerly forward; with high hopes and grateful hearts now, and with every yard of progress the gladdening sound rose clearer and clearer still until there could no longer be any possible mistake about it; it was indeed the regular bea
t of surf upon the shore.

  At length a faint gleam of light became perceptible upon the rocky walls in front; gradually it strengthened, until the more prominent projections of the rock began to stand out bold and black against the lighter portions beyond; and at last, as the path curved gently round, their eager eyes were gladdened by the sight of an opening into which the sea was sweeping with a long lazy undulating motion until it curled over and plashed musically upon a narrow strip of sandy beach.

  They both paused for a moment, with one consent, to feast their eyes upon the gladsome sight, and to restore their disordered faculties. Then they saw that the long passage or gallery within which they stood terminated at its outer end in a cavernous recess, opening apparently on a precipitous part of the shore. The floor of the passage sloped gradually down until it met the short strip of sand upon which the mimic waves were lazily beating; and a yard or two from the water’s edge the sand was marked with a well-defined line of stranded weed and drift-wood, which indicated the inner limit of the wash of the sea. A single glance was sufficient to show that the auriferous rock had been left behind; that which now surrounded them being a coarse kind of granite. Pursuing their way the pair soon stood upon the strip of beach. Then came the question, How were they to get out of the cavern, now that they had reached its mouth? The sides rose perpendicularly, and the top arched over in such a manner that escape seemed impossible. Lance made several attempts on each side of the entrance to work his way out, but the face of the rock was worn so smooth with the constant wash of the water that the nearer he approached the entrance the more difficult did he find it to proceed, and at last, failing to find any further foot-hold, he was compelled to abandon his efforts and return to Blanche, who meanwhile had been resting her tired limbs on the soft grey sand.

  “Well, Blanche,” he said, “I thought our troubles were over when I first caught sight of that opening, but it appears they are not. There seems to be only one possible mode of escape from this place and that is by swimming. Now, I can manage the matter easily enough if you will only trust me; the distance is the merest trifle, the water is smooth, and if you think you have nerve enough to rest your hands on my shoulders and to refrain from struggling when we get into deep water, I can support your weight perfectly well, I know, and carry you safely round to the beach, which I have no doubt we shall find at a short distance on one side or the other of the opening. It will involve a ducking, certainly, but we cannot help that; and if we walk briskly afterwards we shall take no harm.”

  Blanche laughed—she could afford to do that now. “If that is our only difficulty, it is but a trifling one,” she said. “I can trust you implicitly, Lance; and, what is perhaps almost as important, I can also trust myself. I can swim a little; and if I should tire I shall not be frightened, having you to help me.”

  “Very well,” was the reply; “that is better than I dared hope. Would you like to rest a little longer, or shall we make the attempt at once?”

  Blanche announced her perfect readiness to make the attempt forthwith; and without further ado the pair straightway entered the water, hand in hand, Lance first taking the precaution to place his watch in his hat and ram the latter well down upon his head. They waded steadily in until Blanche felt the water lifting her off her feet, when they struck out, Lance regulating his stroke so as to keep close beside his companion. The water was delightfully warm, the sun having been beating down upon it all day, and the immersion proved refreshing rather than otherwise. It took them only about a couple of minutes to reach the mouth of the cave; and then Lance began to look about him for a suitable landing-place. He had expected to find a beach on one side or the other of the opening; but there was nothing of the kind as far as he could see. Perpendicular cliffs rose sheer out of the water on both sides of the opening for a distance of perhaps a hundred yards; and where the cliff terminated the ground sloped steeply down, with huge masses of rock projecting here and there, the foot of the slope being encumbered with other rocks which at some distant period had become detached and rolled down into the water. In bad weather it would have been death to attempt landing upon any part of the shore within Lance’s range of vision; but fortunately the weather was fine and the water smooth; so they made for a spot which Lance thought would serve their purpose, and in another ten minutes succeeded in effecting a landing among the rocks. The scramble up the steep face of the slope before them was not without its perils, but this also was happily accomplished; and at last they found themselves standing safe and sound on tolerably level ground, just as the last rays of the setting sun were gilding the summits of the hills before them.

  Lance found that they had come out on the eastern side of the island; and as the harbour lay on the south side he knew pretty well in which direction they ought to walk; they therefore at once set out at a brisk pace toward a large patch of forest fringing a hill at some distance in front of but a little to the south of them.

  They had not gone very far before Lance, who was keeping a keen look-out for some familiar landmark, recognised a dip between the hills as the ravine up which they had passed in the morning; and altering their course a little they came in about half an hour to the stream, which they crossed without difficulty, and then followed it down until they reached the pool in which the first discovery of gold had been made. Thence their way was tolerably easy—though, in the darkness which had by this time closed down upon them, they went somewhat astray while passing through the wood—and in another hour they found themselves once more safely within the shelter of Staunton Cottage, thoroughly tired-out with their long and adventurous day’s ramble.

  Their entrance was greeted with exclamations of mock horror at the length to which they had spun out the day’s ramble; but Blanche’s pale cheeks, draggled dress, and general “done-up” appearance speedily apprised her friends that a contre-temps of some kind had occurred; and their jesting remarks were quickly exchanged for earnest and sympathetic inquiries as to what had gone wrong. Whereupon Lance—having first suggested to his late companion the advisability of immediate retirement to her couch, and bespoken Mrs Staunton’s kind services in the preparation of a cup of tea for each of the tired-out wanderers—proceeded to give a succinct account of their day’s adventure, the recital of which elicited frequent exclamations of wonder, alarm, and admiration, the latter being vastly increased when he produced his valuable specimens, to which he had resolutely “stuck” through it all notwithstanding that their weight had proved a serious encumbrance to him during his swim.

  “Now,” he said in conclusion, “the net result of the day’s exploration amounts to this. We have discovered a mine of incalculable wealth. What are we to do in the matter? There is so much gold there—in the cave, I mean—that a short period of resolute and well-directed labour will enable us to collect sufficient not only to fully recoup the underwriters for their loss through the burning of the Galatea, but also to make every individual among us enormously rich. Are we to let it lie there, and trust to the future for an opportunity to come back and fetch it, or shall we make an effort now to collect what will suffice us, and trust to chance for the opportunity to carry it off with us when we go?”

  In answer to this, everybody declared at once without hesitation their opinion that an attempt ought to be made to collect and carry off the gold with them; Captain Staunton very sensibly remarking that if anything occurred to prevent the safe transport of their prize home they could then organise an expedition for a second attempt; but that it would be folly to make a necessity of this if by some extra effort on their part the business could be managed without it.

  This point being settled, the next question to be decided was—how they were to set about the collection of the precious metal; for it was obvious that any attempt to absent themselves from their daily attendance at the shipyard would not only excite suspicion, but it might also provoke a very unpleasant manifestation of active hostility on Ralli’s part.

  Here Violet Dudley cam
e to the rescue with a very practical suggestion.

  “If you, Lance,” said she, “can contrive to mark the two passages out of the great central cavern in such a manner that we women cannot possibly mistake one for the other, and so go astray, we might perhaps be able to collect the gold and convey it to a suitable spot for removal; and when enough has been gathered we can take our time about transporting it down here.”

  “An admirable suggestion, Miss Dudley!” said Captain Staunton. “That effectually disposes of one part of the difficulty. But it will never do to bring the gold here; we could not possibly convey it on board the schooner without detection, even if we were quite sure of the success of our plan for making our escape in her. Do you think, Evelin, the pirates have any knowledge of the existence of this cave of yours?”

  “I am pretty certain they have not,” was the reply. “There is no sign of any human foot having ever passed over the ground before our own; and it is so eminently well adapted for a place of concealment for their booty—and, indeed, for themselves as well—in the event of the island ever being attacked, that I feel sure they would, had they known of it, have stocked it with provisions and in other ways have prepared it as a place of refuge. It was only by the merest accident that I discovered the spot to-day; and but for the fact that our search not only led us up to the head of the ravine but also actually caused me to scale the face of the rock, it would have remained undiscovered still. A man might stand within twenty feet of the entrance without suspecting its existence; and, unless he had occasion to scramble up the rock as I did, and in exactly the same place, he would never find it.”

 

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