Where Gold Lies

by Jacqueline George

  Next morning Long John and I poled out into the creek and let the current carry us towards the sea. As we cleared the trees a gentle breeze swung the boom firmly against the sheet and we were off. Long John had the tiller and I scampered around trimming sails and stowing cables. We stood along the coast to Port Domingo, leaving the house to hide in its palm trees.

  As we came up to the port a small boat towing another rowed out of the harbour. Long John steered us towards it and I could see that it carried, in addition to the two Negroes at the oars, Sally and Isabel. The towed boat was another old friend, the one that had brought me from the island. The two men dropped off their charges and rowed away. It seemed we were to have a female crew for the voyage.

  Of course, female company is a very fine thing but on a boat it is perhaps less welcomed than one might expect. In fact, women on board a ship are generally held to be unlucky, and it is certain that the presence of one or two women can upset a male crew with jealousy and dissension. I was afraid that two passengers would add to my work, but I need not have worried. This was far from Sally’s first voyage and she immediately took over the galley. Her cooking skills, supplemented by the dainties she had thought to bring along, made for a most luxurious voyage.

  Isabel had no duties and had only to help her mother, leaving the rest of her time free for chattering to the helmsman, fishing, or sleeping in the shadow of the jib.

  Return to the Island

  In the short time I had been away from our island, the jungle had already started its work of covering the site of the silver. Creepers twined in the brushwood cover, and the young trees around it seemed to lean in to shade the spot. Uncovering the treasure was left to me, with Sally and Isabel waiting eagerly for the first sight. When it came and I had with difficulty levered the first keg up to ground level, it was difficult to prevent their opening it. Only the promise of being able to see inside the broken one won their co-operation and they started to roll the keg towards the beach.

  Unearthing the kegs proved much more difficult than burying them and I felt deeply tired before we fought the last one up over the lip of the hole. Then came the work of carrying them down to the beach, rolling them having proved too much for the ladies. It was late in the afternoon before we had them on board the ketch and safely stowed. What a comfortable feeling that was! After all the toil and trouble, all the miles we had sailed and the friends we had lost, we had a ship of our own with an earl’s ransom stowed below decks. We gratefully ate the mess of rice, bacon and peas that Long John had prepared, and toasted each other in coconut grog.

  Long John had rigged an awning over the boom, giving us shade to lounge and eat our food. It also hid the sight of our nemesis creeping up behind us.

  Something unaccountable caused me to stand up and look out to sea. To look out at the beautiful and terrifying sight of a man o’ war reducing sail as she bore up on the other side of the reef. She had come so close we could hear the calls of the leadsman as she sought safe ground in which to anchor.

  Horror struck us dumb. This was the frigate that Caspar had joined and her presence here could mean only one thing, our treasure was at risk again. We turned again to Long John.

  “So. King George himself. We shall have to look sharp to get away now. I believe I shall stay where I am,” (he was reclining on the deck) “Isabel, you stop here as well. Sally, take my hat and pipe and go and look at the ship all natural-like.”

  It was fortunate that the ladies still wore their treasure digging clothes. In her man’s shirt and topped off with Long John’s hat, Sally could pass at a distance for one of the island seamen. We stood in full view discussing the ship, Sally gesturing with her pipe. Need I say that in reality our stomachs trembled at the thought of the spy-glasses that were surely trained on us? We wanted to rush the sails up and run.

  “Just stop where you are,” commanded Long John. “Wait until she’s settled in, then we’ll see.”

  The ship dropped her anchor and furled her sails all in a rush. Her rigging and decks swarmed with sailors hurrying about their work, urged on by the shouts of their officers.

  “Now if we just stay here and don’t do nothing, there’s a chance she won’t take us for no more than what we are—just a coaster. Are they watching us?”

  Several figures on the poop did seem to be studying us, and two had spy-glasses. Certainly the Captain did not waste any time for a party of sailors was busy swinging out a launch. Long John decided to move.

  “Now, Dick and Isabel, get forward and pull that anchor. Sally, bear a hand here and we’ll get this main up.”

  With an efficiency born of sheer fright we set to our tasks, trying all the while to appear unconcerned and unhurried. In short measure we gathered way, sheeting home the sails and casting anxious glances over out stern. The ship’s launch with two gleaming officers in the stern pulled towards the beach, banks of white oar-blades sweeping her forward in measured strokes.

  Providence or the hand of God was with us that day for the launch ran ashore right at the point, some distance from the path we had taken into the jungle.

  “The fox will be in the hen-coop when they find your marks, Dick. Give me the tiller.”

  The wind, such as it was, lay a little forward of our port beam, and we were taking advantage of the shelter of the reef to run north towards the tip of the island. Long John kept busy coaxing the last fraction of a knot that he could from our boat, and he kept me equally busy trimming sheets and halyards to get the sails just so.

  Long John grunted. “Don’t matter if they find your marks now or later. I believe we shall weather that point on this tack, which is more than they ever will. And I’ll lay that was the Captain that went ashore.”

  Back on shore, the officers had been carried dry-shod to the sand and set off with their men to walk along the beach. Presumably Caspar was there, guiding the party. The straggling group moved unhurriedly down the beach, stopping to pick up shells or to point out sights in the trees. Then they reached the marks of our passage and clustered around them.

  Now we were for it, I thought, as the officers strode up. A quick look at the marks and they began looking at us and pointing. The group suddenly broke up and with an awful purpose started to run back to the launch, leaving only one officer and a man to check for the silver. The launch crew ran her out and tumbled aboard. Soon they pulling hard after us, bent on our capture.

  We looked in dismay at the wave being thrown up by the launch’s bow. We were already more than a mile ahead and still gaining a little speed in a freshening breeze. However we had no doubt in our minds that, given time, the launch would catch us. However, there is a saying at sea that a stern chase is a long chase, meaning that chasing someone from directly behind is a long and slow business, and you must appreciate that we were not tiring ourselves out as the rowers were.

  The launch did not waste strength in a senseless dash, but settled down to a long steady pull. Long John had a worried look on his face. “This ain’t right. This is foolishness. Dick, load my pistols and the muskets.”

  When I got back on deck the launch looked nearer. The white oar blades dipped and rose in deadly unison. The pursuit had a sense of inevitability about it, and from Sally and Isabel’s drawn faces I could see they were terrified.

  “Ah, the Captain’s coming back.” Back on the beach, the two who had gone to check on the burial site had returned to the beach, the officer waving his handkerchief as he walked. His wishes must have been anticipated for a jolly boat was already pulling to meet him. The ship had pulled up towards her anchor, ready to get under way at the shortest of notice. Sure enough, as soon as the Captain was back on his quarter-deck, the sails began to fall and fill. Being square-rigged, she could not lie anywhere as near to the wind as we could, so she headed out to sea on the other tack. For the moment anyway she would be drawing away from us, but only to sweep back down faster than we could sail. But we would have to deal with the launch long before we had to worry a
bout the frigate.

  The launch gained on us steadily. The gold lettering on her bow was clear to read, and we could see the men’s pig-tails slapping on their backs as they lent forward for each stroke. Still they came on, eating up the light green sea between us fathom by fathom.

  Long John gave me the tiller and stood up. “Launch ahoy! Don’t come no nearer or I’ll shoot!”

  His warning had no effect. “‘Tis a wonderfully difficult thing to row backwards into trouble, Dick. I’ve tried it and it don’t serve. You watch.” He laid his pistol on the rail and called out, “I’m going to shoot.” We could see no response to his call, so he squeezed the trigger.

  The sound of the shot, if not the passing ball, brought the officer to his feet. He was a youngster, a midshipman I suppose, but as brave as a cock. With his hat tucked under his arm he stood firm and shouted back, “Fire if you will, pirate!”

  “D--- him!” Long John took a musket. “I shall have to drop him now.” It took a long moment before he was satisfied with his aim and had allowed for the movement of our boat. Choosing his moment, he fired. A true shot, and the officer fell back into the water clutching at his thigh. As he went, the rhythm of the rowers was upset. Someone threw an oar after the drowning man, and all was confusion. As they got the boat turned and rescued the officer, the gap between us widened rapidly.

  “Good. That stopped them without too much harm done.” Long John turned to watch the frigate and the ladies came up to link arms with him.

  “Is she going away?” asked Isabel.

  “No, my dear, she ain’t. She’ll be heading back for us just as soon as she’s made her offing. But we can hurry along inside the reef and she’ll have to go the long way round, all the way to the other side of the island. And by then it will be dark, so we’ll see if we can’t give her the slip.”

  “Look!” Sally pointed at the launch. They had got the young officer back on board and were rowing after us again, with half a mile or more to make up. Like a monstrous insect, the launch crawled in our wake. We turned back to our sails.

  It may be that the wind was getting stronger or perhaps the rowers had begun to tire, for it seemed that the launch did not draw up as quickly as the last time. But draw up it did until the creak and splash of the oars mingled loudly with the sounds of our passage. We could see the crew straining and it became obvious that they would be unable to find the extra speed to rush us.

  Long John lent over the stern and shouted again. “Back off, you young fool! Or do you want me to plug your men one by one? You’ll never get close enough to board.”

  The men must have been feeling a very uncomfortable spot between their shoulder blades and the launch appeared to slow a little. For a moment the officer did nothing, but the sense of Long John’s warning made him desist, and he ordered his men to stop. As they rested on their oars he shouted after us, “You won’t get away, pirate! We’ll have you and your men dancing at the yard-arm yet.”

  Long John chuckled. “The young master might be right, but not this evening. Sally, let’s take something to eat while we’ve got the chance.”

  As Sally and Isabel readied a meal, we turned our attention back to sailing. As we steered around the north of the island, we brought our quarter more and more to the wind, a much faster situation. We gathered speed and our wake lengthened.

  “We’ve been lucky, Dick my lad. We shall be right round the island in a little while and the sun will be down soon. It’s a good thing for us that the tide’s in, or sailing inside the reef would be a deal more difficult.”

  “But where are we going? The ship will be after us—”

  “They won’t find us where we’ll be hiding,” and that was all he would say until after supper. Later, when the sun had set, we searched the shadows under the trees for the creek near which Hawkins had run the Hispaniola ashore. So it was that, resting on the shore with our boat pulled into the blackness of the creek, we watched the frigate sail south past our hiding place. We could hear the slap and creak of her, and the buzz of talk among her hundreds of men.

  Long John shook us out early next day with work to do. Sally and I were set to climbing up the lookout hill to search for the frigate. Long John and Isabel would be hauling the boat farther up the creek until it was completely hidden.

  Sally made good company. We cut across the island and then took Ben Gunn’s path up to the summit from near the cottage. As Caspar and I had suspected when we found the other end of the path, it made a far easier way up. Nevertheless, it was a severe climb and it was fully two hours after sunrise before we sat down under the two fig trees. I searched the horizon with our glass, but there was not a sail to be seen either to the north or south.

  The sea remained empty until mid-day when we picked out a sail to the south. Was it the frigate? Whatever ship we saw, we could do nothing for the moment but wait. I stuck two twigs into the ground to take a bearing on the sail. I could not identify the ship but I now knew its course would take it close the west of the island. After an hour, we could make out the frigate. Having missed us to the south, she was returning to try her luck to the north and west. Sally went down to tell the others while I concealed myself on the ground behind the fig trees.

  The frigate grew slowly larger in my glass until I could clearly make out figures on her decks. When I could nearly distinguish the faces of the officers, she suddenly put her head into the wind and there was a flurry of activity. She was launching a boat. It was soon in the water and a crew aboard. Shortly afterwards, they stepped a mast and began to sail towards the eastern side of the island. The mother ship continued to head towards the west. I wasted no time in racing back with a warning.

  We were saved by two things. Firstly, Long John’s good sense in keeping us off the beach. The sand showed no footprints to our passing pursuers. For the second, the sun was already setting, throwing the eastern shore into deep shadow. Our hunters sailed past gaining no hint of what hid in the shadows behind the beach.

  I would have sailed next day, but Long John was more cautious. Sally and I watched again that day but the sea remained empty in all directions. We sailed on the morrow, to the south-west.

  Homeward Bound

  It took a long time to come up to Port Domingo again, but we saw no more of the frigate. We had no cause to hurry and, sitting on a fortune in silver we had another worry, the risk of encountering pirates! We had also to decide what we would do with the treasure. I felt surprised when Long John broached the problem. It was late one evening when we were still two days out of Port Domingo. I had the tiller and Long John sat beside me, smoking his pipe. The boat sailed easily, following the stars.

  “You’re a rich man now, Dick. What are you thinking to turn your hand to?”

  I suppose I did not give much of an answer for he went on. “Can’t go back to your old trade, you know, for the crew’s all dead or gone. You ain’t old enough to have your own ship and I never heard of a rich man sailing before the mast. It wouldn’t do, Dick. Where are you going to put your treasure, anyways?”

  It may seem incredible to you, but I had not thought where I might put it. What would I do with my hundredweights of silver? What would Long John do with his share? I asked him.

  “I’ll tell you for why I’m asking,” he ignored my question. “I’ve a couple of things you could help me with. What would you think to living in Bristol?”

  Bristol, as you know, is a grand and exciting city. The idea of living there was not one I had thought about, but it sounded interesting.

  “You know, I put a deal of business through Bristol at one time or another.” He played with his pipe, mostly to watch my reaction. “I need a smart man there just to keep an eye on things for me. Not that I don’t trust the shipping people, it’s just that they’re not family, so to speak. You could set up a house in Bristol. I’ll send you a bit of money along with each shipment and you pass by the offices in your smart clothes now and then, and make sure no grasping clerk is taking mon
ey out of Long John’s pocket. How does that sound?”

  “But I don’t know anything about offices. Or Customs and Excise. Or anything along that line.”

  “Don’t you worry about that. I ain’t about to send you out without a full set of sails. There’s nothing they do in those offices that you couldn’t pick up in a week or two. Which is more than them scribblers and counters could say about being a sea-man. But you ain’t saying no, am I right?”

  Indeed I was not. I felt too surprised to say anything.

  “Good. For that brings me on to the next thing you could help me with. Isabel. Now I know you’re sweet on her.” He silenced my denial with a wave of his pipe. “I know you’re sweet on her, and I need a gentleman to take care of her. She’ll never have much of a life if she takes up with someone out here. She’ll always have my name dogging her, and I ain’t half stupid enough to be proud of that!

  “But if she were to take up with some smart young gentleman with a bit of business of his own in Bristol, why, that would be a different thing altogether. She’d be a proper madam then. She won’t come to you poor, you know. I’ll see to that. If money was all there was to it, she could marry into any family in England.

  “Well, now! There’s a net full of pretty fish. What do you say to it?”

  My mind was racing for it had never entered my wildest imaginings that I should set up as a regular gentleman and be given the hand of a beautiful heiress. “But will she have me?”

  “She will if you ask her right. And her mother and I have talked it over. It’s time she left the nest and this is as good a chance as she’s likely to get. Wait ‘til you’re alone and ask her straight out if she’d like to come with you to Bristol. Don’t let on we’ve been talking though, or she’ll say no just to be stubborn. You think on what I’ve been saying.”