Spanish Gold/Chapter 13
CHAPTER XIII
IT is not easy to carry a punt—even the kind of punt that folds up—over rugged and slippery rocks. Meldon stumbled frequently and fell three times. He cut his elbow and reopened the rent in the knee of his trousers which he had laboriously sewed up after his first expedition round the coast of the island. His cheerfulness was untouched by misfortune. His energy carried him far ahead of Major Kent, who had the lighter load. Even when he found himself on his hands and knees among seaweed and pools he preserved the punt from injury. He arrived at last at the point on which he had decided that the Spanish galleon must have struck, scrambled round it and reached the ledge of rock above the channel. He was breathless, dishevelled, and so hot that he wished very much to swim rather than row to the hole in the cliff. He put the temptation aside. Major Kent, labouring heavily with the paddles over one shoulder, appeared at the corner. Meldon unfolded and stretched the canvas punt. He made fast the rope, which he had used as a sling, to the ring in her bow, and launched her very carefully. He insisted on embarking at once when the Major arrived.
"No sign of any one swinging down over the cliff to-day," he said, looking over his shoulder as he paddled up the channel. "Sir Giles is otherwise and perhaps less innocently occupied. He is certainly swearing frightfully. He is very likely at this moment cutting Langton's throat."
"It isn't Langton's throat he'll cut. Langton didn't set his punt adrift."
"I dare say he'd rather cut mine if he could, but in the sort of temper he's in at present it'll be almost necessary for him to murder somebody at once."
"But what has he against Langton?"
"Oh, you can't always account for deeds of that sort. They are what the French call crimes of passion. By the way, did you ever read Lombroso on Crime? You ought to. He's a tremendous fellow for the physical characteristics of the criminal. I'd like him to have a look at Sir Giles. I expect Hullo! here we are!"
The punt grounded at the very mouth of the hole. There were still a few inches of water in the entrance, and the little beach on which Sir Giles had stood two days before was not yet uncovered. Meldon stepped out of the punt, knelt down, and peered into the hole.
"It's all right," he said. "We can get in easily. It doesn't matter if we get a little wet."
He took the painter of the punt in his hand and crawled into the hole. In a couple of minutes his voice, sounding hollowly, reached Major Kent.
"Come along. It's only the entrance that's really narrow. It's quite a large cave when you're inside, and not nearly so dark as you'd expect. You have to crawl more than a few yards in the water. The ground rises rapidly and it's quite dry where I am now."
Major Kent disliked very much the idea of crawling even a few yards through water; but he knew that it was no use holding back. Meldon was quite capable of emerging and dragging him by main force into the hole. Very unwillingly he stooped down and crept forward.
"It's not a bad place, is it?" said Meldon, "and a pretty good size. You can sit straight up here and hardly bump your head at all."
He made fast the painter of the punt to a large stone as he spoke. "She'll be all safe. The tide will leave her high and dry in another half-hour. I wonder how far this cave goes? I expect the Spanish captain dumped his treasure right at the far end. Come along."
It was difficult to get along at first. Walking over large round stones which roll about when trodden on is never easy. It becomes extremely troublesome when it is only possible to proceed either on all fours or bent double—when the roof is so low that an unguarded movement results in a blow on the head. But things got pleasanter after a little while. The ground sloped rapidly upwards. Meldon and the Major were soon above high-water mark. Then the stones on which they walked were no longer so smoothly rounded and were much less liable to roll.
"What beats me about this cave," said Meldon, "is that it isn't darker. It doesn't seem to get any darker either as we go on."
The roof rose higher. It became possible to walk upright. Major Kent stretched himself at last to his full height and looked round him. The rocks on each side had widened out, leaving a space between them. They and the roof were quite visible in a dim light which came from the depths of the cave.
"It's interesting to think," said Meldon, "that the last human feet which trod these stones were those of the Spanish captain and his crew. It must have been tough work dragging the cases of bullion along through that narrow part. We can't have much farther to go now. I see what looks like the end in front of us. But I can't understand where the light comes from."
He went on a few yards and then gave a sudden shout—a kind of cheer—half-smothered by excitement. He ran forward, stumbling desperately among the loose stones, but picking himself up and bounding on with outstretched arms. Major Kent, stirred at last out of his grumbling indifference, ran after him. Meldon stopped abruptly. Before him, laid on a slab of rock at the side of the cave, were two iron chests. Their lids stood wide open. They were perfectly empty.
"Good God!" said Major Kent, "there was something here after all, I must say, J. J., I didn't believe in your treasure till this minute, and now it's gone."
"It's gone," said Meldon, "but it can't be gone far. Every argument for believing that it's still on the island holds good. Don't you lose heart. What we've got to do now is to turn to and find out where it's gone and who's got it."
He took another glance at the empty chests and then looked on from where they lay.
"This isn't the end of the cave," he said. "It takes a sharp bend to the right. See how the light, coming round the corner strikes that wall. Let's go on and see where the cave does end and where the light comes from."
"I don't see," he said as he stumbled on, "how Sir Giles can have got it. I've watched him like a cat does a mouse. The only time he got away from me was yesterday afternoon when he went up to Thomas O'Flaherty Pat's house, and I had Mary Kate watching him then. Great Scott! What's that?"
The crash of some heavy body falling on the boulders set the whole cave echoing. Meldon stood still in astonishment.
"If you ask me," said the Major, "I should say that the roof's falling in. We'd better clear out of this while we can."
"I don't care," said Meldon, "if the roof does fall in. I don't care if the whole island crumbles into bits and comes rattling down on top of my head. I'm going to see this business through."
He went forward very cautiously, peering in front of him, until he reached the place where the cave bent to the right. He stood still for a minute. Then he turned and went back to where the Major waited.
"It's Sir Giles," he said. "He's come down through the roof, and he's standing there looking up while something is being lowered to him. I have it, Major. The hole in Thomas O'Flaherty Pat's field! Mary Kate told me they were looking at it yesterday. What an ass I was not to think of it before! Of course it opens straight down into this cave. It couldn't do anything else. Why didn't I think of that sooner? Come on, now, Major. As Sir Giles is here, we may as well have a talk with him."
Taking Major Kent by the arm he stepped forward, turned the corner, and came in sight of Sir Giles Buckley, who was lighting a lantern. Meldon recognised it at once as the riding-light of the Aureole.
"Good-morning, Sir Giles," he said. "You won't need that lantern. The cave is quite light."
Sir Giles started and turned quickly.
"Oh, it's the damned parson," he said. "I more than half expected you'd be here."
"I don't mind owning," said Meldon, "that I did not expect to see you. You swam ashore from the yacht, I suppose."
"No, you didn't expect me. I dare say you thought you had me boxed up for the day when you played that fool's trick, setting my punt adrift."
"It's my punt, not yours. But as we're on the subject of the punt, how did you get ashore?"
"As soon as I found she was gone," said Sir Giles, "I got up the mainsail and went after her. Any one who wasn't a perfect ass would have known beforehand that I'd do that. You must think that everybody in the world is as big an idiot as you are yourself. Did you suppose that I'd sit still and whistle hymn-tunes until you came back and put me ashore?"
"I didn't suppose anything of the sort. I thought you'd swear every oath you knew five or six times over and then cut Langton's throat."
"You drivelling imbecile!"
"Go on," said Meldon, "call me any other name that occurs to you. When you've finished perhaps you'll walk down the cave a bit and I'll show you whether I'm a fool or not."
He turned and walked away, followed by Major Kent. Sir Giles eyed them doubtfully for a minute and then went after them. When he reached the slab of rock on which the chests lay, Meldon turned and made sure that Sir Giles was at his heels. With a dramatic gesture he pointed to the chests.
"Empty, Sir Giles," he said. "Look in and make sure. Quite empty."
"Have you got the stuff?" said Sir Giles. "Damn it! you can't have it. I don't believe you've touched it."
"Believe whatever you like, but there's one thing you may bet on with perfect safety. Whether we've got it or not, you haven't, and what's more you never will. Now, who's the fool, the ass, the idiot, and the drivelling imbecile?"
Sir Giles glared at Meldon. It was evident that he was in an extremely bad temper. His face became first white and then crimson. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound issued from it except a sort of hoarse gurgle produced apparently far down in his throat.
"Don't let your temper get the better of you," said Meldon. "It's foolish, besides being bad form. And remember what I said to you the day we first met about swearing. Excuse my reminding you of that, but I can't help thinking that you mean to curse as soon as ever you can. You have all the appearance of a man who is struggling to find expression for strong feelings of some kind."
Sir Giles stuttered out an oath. Having succeeded in giving utterance to one intelligible syllable, he obtained all at once complete command of his powers of speech. He poured forth a series of voluble imprecations and expressed hopes for Meldon's future which would have startled the author of the most emphatic of the Psalms. He was interrupted by a loud crash from the depths of the cave. He started violently.
"What the devil's that?"
"It's uncommonly like the noise you made yourself when you came down through the roof. My own opinion is that it's Langton. He'd be likely enough to drop in to see that you didn't sneak off with any more than your own proper share of the treasure. Come along and we'll see."
He went up again to the place where he had met Sir Giles. Langton, who had descended very much more rapidly than he wished, sat on a stone nursing a bruised knee.
"Good-morning, Mr. Langton," said Meldon. "I'm delighted to see you. I hope you haven't hurt yourself. As far as I could judge by the noise, you must have come down rather hard. However, I'm glad you're here. You must take Sir Giles in hand and look after him a bit. He very nearly had a fit just now. You ought to see to it that he takes some kind of cooling medicine three times a day—bromides, or castor-oil, or something of that sort. Any chemist would make the mixture up for you if you told him the kind of thing you wanted. Or if there's no good man in your neighbourhood try one of those soothing syrup stuffs you'll see advertised in Christmas numbers. I dare say they're all right. I hesitate as a rule about recommending patent medicines, but you can see for yourself that your friend wants something."
"What the devil brings you here?" said Sir Giles. "I told you to wait at the top for me. Who's going to haul us up now, I'd like to know?"
Langton, still nursing his knee, sat in sulky silence. Meldon looked up at the hole above his head. Peering over the hedge of it was the benevolent and aristocratic face of Thomas O'Flaherty Pat. His long white beard drooped down. His white hair completed a kind of moonlight Aureole round his head. His face expressed a mild and entirely courteous interest in the doings of the men below him.
"It's all right," said Meldon to Sir Giles. "There's a dear old fellow up there, a great friend of mine, who'll do what he can to pull you up, I'm sure. He's not very strong, and he may not be able to haul you quite the whole way, but he'll do his best. And you're taking risks in any case. I see you're using the throat halyard of my boat again in spite of the warning I gave you the day before yesterday. If I were you I'd make Langton lie down flat underneath you as you go up. He'd break your fall a good deal in case"
"Come out of this," said Sir Giles, taking the rope from Langton and fitting it round his own armpits. "I'll go mad if I have to stand here any longer listening to that ape gibbering. Hi! you above there! Haul up!"
"I forgot to mention," said Meldon, "that the old gentleman doesn't understand a word of English. My friend Higginbotham, who has important business to transact with him, is learning Irish on purpose to be able to carry on the necessary conversations."
Sir Giles plucked furiously at the rope and shouted again.
"There's no use trying to make him understand by shouting," said Meldon, "he's not the least deaf. The best thing you can do is to wait here quietly till the Major and I get away in our punt and back to the far side of the island. It'll only take us about two hours. You and Langton can talk things over together while you're waiting. I'll send up a little girl called Mary Kate who understands both languages. You can tell her what you want and she will explain it to her grandfather. But I do ask you to remember, Sir Giles, that she's a little girl. I don't want to rub it in about your language, but there are some things that a girl of ten years old—you know what I mean."
Sir Giles stooped and took up a large stone in both hands.
"If you utter another word," he said, "I'll bash in your skull with this."
"If you'd keep calm," said Meldon, "you'd run much less chance of bursting a blood-vessel. You ought to be able to realise that I'm giving you sound advice and speaking for your own good."
Sir Giles raised his two hands above his head with the stone between them. He held it there, poised for several seconds, taking aim at Meldon. The rope round his armpits tightened suddenly. He was lifted from his feet. He dangled in mid-air, hands and feet hanging down. When he was about eight feet above the ground he ceased to ascend. He writhed and wriggled, with the result that he began to spin rapidly round and round at the end of the rope.
"If I were you," said Meldon, "I'd drop that stone. It adds considerably to your weight. I told you before that old Thomas O'Flaherty Pat is anything but a strong man. I'm sure he's doing his best, but it looks to me as if he was pretty nearly played out. It's trying him too high to make him hoist both you and the stone at once. I'll send it up to you afterwards if you really want it. But I can't see what use it will be to you. There are plenty of stones up above. The island is simply covered with stones, every bit as good as that one."
The ascent commenced again and continued jerkily with many pauses, until at last Sir Giles disappeared through the hole.
"I think," said Meldon to the Major, "that you and I may as well be dodging off home now. Goodbye, Mr. Langton. We can't be of any further use to you. Sir Giles will pull you up all right. If I were you I wouldn't be in too great a hurry to go. His temper won't be by any means improved by the argument he'll have with Thomas O'Flaherty Pat. You can't imagine how trying it is to argue with a man who can't understand a word you say and can't speak so as you can understand him. That old fellow has just one sentence, something about 'Ni beurla.' He says it over and over again in a way that would get on the nerves of a cow. It takes a cool man to stand it. Higginbotham gets quite mad, and even I have to keep a tight grip on my temper. The effect on Sir Giles will be frightful. And he has that stone with him. He would insist on clinging to it. Goodbye, Mr. Langton."
Meldon and Major Kent went down the cave together. The tide had completely ebbed, and it was possible to crawl through the entrance without getting wet. The punt, which lay high and dry, was carried down to the water and launched. Meldon, as usual, took the paddles.
"One thing," he said thoughtfully, "seems perfectly clear. Sir Giles hasn't got the treasure. If he had he wouldn't have got into such a beastly temper."
"That coup of yours about the punt didn't precisely come off," said the Major with a grin. "He rather had you over that, I thought."
Meldon ignored the taunt.
"The question now is," he said, "who has the treasure? The position seems to me to require some thinking out. It is becoming complex. I'm glad we have a long, quiet afternoon before us."
They reached the shelf of rock, disembarked, and folded up the punt.
"I wish," said Meldon, "that you hadn't insisted on my finishing off those two sardines this morning. I'm very hungry now."
"You'll get nothing more to eat till you get back to the Spindrift, unless you happen to come across that crab which you lost the first day we were here."
"I wouldn't eat a raw crab any way. I'm not a cannibal. Come on and let us get back as quick as we can."
The disappointment of the morning and the sharp appetite which followed hard work in the open air affected even Meldon's temper. He spoke no more for some time, but scrambled doggedly along, only a few yards ahead of Major Kent. Gradually the extreme interest of the treasure-hunt took possession of his mind again and restored his cheerful self-confidence.
"You'll admit now," he said, "that I reasoned perfectly correctly about that treasure. The Spanish captain hid it precisely where I said he did."
"There was only one point you went wrong about," said the Major. "You said the treasure was in that cave and it wasn't."
"It was, originally. I couldn't be expected to foresee that some one would remove it and hide it again in another place. That's what has happened. Now that I know it's gone, I'll turn to and reason out where it's gone to. If it hasn't got any rightful owner we'll get it yet."
"What do you mean by a rightful owner?"
"A live man," said Meldon. "If it was removed and hidden by some fellow that's dead and gone, then he's no more the owner of it now than the Spanish captain is. If there is a rightful owner, of course we're done. I'm not going to commit robbery even for the sake of getting that treasure."
"I'm glad to hear that anyway."
"Now, there are just two people at present alive who can possibly have that treasure. One is Higginbotham. The other is Thomas O'Flaherty Pat. I'll take Higginbotham first."
"What's the good of that? If Higginbotham has it he will keep it."
"Still it would be interesting to know. In favour of Higginbotham it may be urged that he has evidently made a very careful investigation of this island. You see how glibly he came out with that information about the pliocene clay. Now would he have known that if he hadn't, so to speak, got at the inside of the island? That sort of clay doesn't lie about on the surface for everybody to see."
"Why shouldn't it?"
"Oh, just because those fundamental things never do lie on the surface. A fellow wouldn't find out what your backbone consisted of by just looking at your skin, would he? He'd have to put you on an operating table and cut a hole in you to find that out. It's just the same with islands. Higginbotham knew that this island consisted of pliocene clay. Very well, it follows that he must have gone beyond the surface of the island."
"Prompted, I suppose, by an unholy curiosity."
"Prompted by a stern sense of duty. He is employed by the Government at an enormous salary, no doubt, to find out all he can about this island. Naturally he either digs a hole or goes down some hole already in existence. Now, so far as we know, Thomas O'Flaherty's hole is the only one there is. Therefore it seems likely that Higginbotham went down it. If he did he found the treasure and has it now."
"It's all the same to us who has it. As I said before, if Higginbotham has it, he'll keep it."
"I didn't say Higginbotham had it. So far I've only considered what is to be said in favour of what I may call the Higginbotham hypothesis."
"Don't start on hypotheses again, J. J. I'm sick of the sound of the word."
"I can't help it if you are. The proposal of an hypothesis is the only known method of finding out truth. I tell you, Major, I've gone pretty deep into these philosophic and scientific questions, and I know what I'm talking about. You ask any first-rate man and he'll tell you the same thing. Now, against Higginbotham there's just one broad fact to be urged, but I candidly confess it seems to me to be decisive. Higginbotham isn't the kind of man who would come upon hidden treasure even by accident. He has too much of the official mind. It's almost impossible to think of a Congested Districts Board official gloating over Spanish gold. That puts Higginbotham out of court. There remains Thomas O'Flaherty Pat. You'll recollect that I've always had my suspicions of that old man. The way he followed us the first day we went round the cliffs was peculiar, to say the least of it. His persistent refusal to speak a word of English points to the fact that he has something or other to conceal. I shall have to go into his case very carefully indeed. But here we are at the foot of the path. I can't climb up a cliff with a punt on my back and talk at the same time. I'll have to put off discussing old O'Flaherty till we get to the top."
After a quarter of an hour's hard work Meldon reached the head of the path, drew a long breath; and took a look at the bay below him. Then he laid down the punt hur- riedly and turned to the Major, who was still struggling upwards.
"There's another yacht in the bay," he said—"a big steam yacht."
Major Kent hurried over the last few steps of the climb.
"You're right," he said. "There is. If I'd known that this was to be a kind of Cowes week at Inishgowlan I wouldn't have come near the place. I suppose the next thing will be some fellow coming round and asking us to act on the committee of a regatta."
"That's a biggish boat," said Meldon. " The man who owns her must be pretty wealthy. Now what has he come here for?"
"Treasure-hunting, of course," said the Major. "Nobody comes here for anything else."
"Don't jump at conclusions in that way. There's nothing so unphilosophic as forming conclusions on insufficient evidence, and in this case you simply haven't any evidence at all."
"It wasn't a conclusion," said the Major. "It was an hypothesis. Of course if you've any better hypothesis to offer—"
"I have. I believe, in fact I'm practically certain, that the men on that yacht are Members of Parliament."
"You said that about Sir Giles and you turned out to be wrong."
"That's just what makes me so sure I'm right now. I'll explain it to you in one minute. You've sometimes played pitch-and-toss, I suppose—I mean as a boy."
"I have."
"Very well. Now suppose the other fellow tossed the penny. You called heads and it turned out that you were wrong. You'd be practically certain it was tails, wouldn't you? There you are, then. I was wrong about Sir Giles being a Member of Parliament, therefore I'm nearly sure to be right when I say that this man is."
"I don't see that. Not that it's any use arguing with you."
"If you don't see a simple thing like that, it isn't any use."
"All the same I will," said the Major. "Just for once I'll show you what rot you talk. You said it must be either heads or tails."
"I didn't. I said it was nearly sure to be either heads or tails. The penny might light in a mud heap and stand on its edge."
"It's no use reasoning with you."
"It isn't," said Meldon, "if you won't reason right."
"Look here. You say if it isn't heads it's nearly sure to be tails. But suppose he tossed another coin. That's what's happened in this case."
"It's just the same with any coin. There are only two sides to the best of them."
"What I mean is this. Here's a fresh yacht altogether. Quite a different yacht from the Aureole with quite different people in her. It isn't a case of heads or tails at all."
"I don't in the least see what you mean, and I don't believe you see yourself. But you may take my word for it, Major, that there is at least one Member of Parliament in that yacht. There may be more, but I'll bet my hat there's one. Don't bother your head any more about that. These things only make you irritable. We'll get along back to the Spindrift and have a bite to eat. Then I'll take a long, quiet afternoon thinking things out. If I get them sized up to my satisfaction I may go on shore before tea and have a look at Michael Pat. In the evening I'll find out how Higginbotham got on with the tuberculosis bacilli on Inishmore."