The Pirates' Treasure Chest (7 Gold Hunt Adventures & True Life Stories of Swashbucklers). Эдгар Аллан ПоЧитать онлайн книгу.
to make mischief."
Within the hour the tug that had brought Philips steamed back down the harbor on the return trip to Panama. With it we sent Jimmie and the steward. Dugan flatly declined to go, and since his wound was almost healed the captain let him stay.
This left us fourteen men, counting the former mutineers and the native stokers. To go with me on my night expedition I chose Alderson and Smith. The guard for the treasure cache consisted of Yeager, Gallagher, Barbados and Stubbs. The rest were to remain with the ship.
The tide was coming in when we pulled from the Argos toward the mouth of the Tuyra. The wash of the waves made it unnecessary for us to take any precautions to muffle the sound of our oars and the darkness of the night made detection at any distance improbable.
One difficulty we did encounter. For the first few hundred yards of our journey up the river we disturbed some of the numberless birds which had settled for the night on the trees close to the banks. The flapping of their wings gave notice of our approach as plainly as if a herald had shouted it.
We carried no light. The heavy tropical jungle growth on the mud flats which extended on both sides of the river helped to increase the darkness. Our progress was slow, for we had to make sure that we did not slip past without noticing the schooner that had brought the pirates down from Panama.
The sound of voices on the water warned us that we were approaching the boat of which we were in search. Very cautiously, keeping close to the bushes along the shore, we drew near the schooner which began to take dim shape in the darkness.
The tide was still strong, and it carried our boat across the bow of the schooner. The anchor chain was hanging and served to hold us in place, though with each lift of the tide I was afraid those on board would hear us grind against her side. Intermittently the voices came to us, though we could make out no words.
We were in a good deal of danger, for any minute one of the crew might saunter to the side of the vessel and look over. It was plain to me that we could not stay here. Either we must go forward or back.
Now back I would not go without finding whether Evelyn was here, and to try to board the schooner in attack would be sheer madness. My mind caught at a compromise.
I whispered to Alderson directions, and when the jibboom of the schooner came down with the next recession of a wave I swung myself to it by means of the chain, using the stays to brace my foot.
Here I lay for a minute getting my bearings, while the sailors in the boat below backed quietly out of sight among the shore bushes that overhung the banks.
So far as I could see the deck was deserted. Carefully I edged on to the bowsprit, crept along it, and let myself down gently to the deck. I could see now that men were lying asleep at the other end of the vessel.
One was standing with his back toward me beside the mizzen-mast. From his clothes I guessed the watch to be a native.
The voices that had come to us across the water still sounded, but more faintly than before I had come on board. Evidently they were from below.
Probably the speakers were in a cabin with the porthole open. I could not be sure, but it struck me that one of them was a woman. My impression was that she pleaded and that he threatened, for occasionally the heavier voice was raised impatiently.
From its scabbard I drew my revolver and crept forward in the shadow of the bulwarks. My life hung on a hair; so too did that of the watchman drowsing by the mast. If he looked up and turned I was lost, and so was he.
Foot by foot I stole toward the forecastle ladder, reached it, and noiselessly passed down the stairs.
I say noiselessly, yet I could hear my heart beat against my ribs as I descended. For I knew now that the voices which came from behind the closed door of the cabin to my right belonged to my sweetheart and to Boris Bothwell.
"Not I, but you," he was saying. "I'm hanged if I take the responsibility. If you had trusted me we might have lifted the gold without the loss of a drop of blood."
"You are so worthy of trust!" Evelyn's voice answered with bitterness.
"Have you ever known me to break my word? But let that pass. You chose to reject my love and invite that meddler Sedgwick into our affairs. What is the result? What have you gained?"
"A knowledge of the difference between the love of a true man and that of a false one," she answered quietly.
"A true man! Oh, call him a fool and be done with it."
"Perhaps, but I could love such folly."
He seemed to strangle his irritation in his throat.
"A lot of good it will do! You belong to me. That is written in the book of your life, and what is to be will be. And I'll get the treasure, too."
"Never! You call them fools, but they have outwitted you from start to finish."
"They've pulled the chestnuts out of the fire for me, if that is what you mean."
"And as for me, I'm only a girl, but I swear before Heaven I'd rather sink a knife into my heart than give myself to you."
He clapped his hands ironically with a deep laugh like the bay of a wolf.
"Bravo! Well done! You'd make a fortune in tragedy, Evie. But dramatics apart, you may make up your mind to it. I'm your master, and before twenty-four hours shall be your mate. Why else have I brought this broken wretch of a priest along, but to tie the knot in legal fashion? I'm a reasonable man. Since you have a taste for the conventional and decorum you shall have them. But priest or no priest, willy nilly, mine you are and shall be."
"You think everybody is a fool but yourself. Can't I see why you want the marriage? It's not to please me, but through me to give you a legal claim on the treasure."
"Why do you always stir up the devil in me? I love you. I want to please you. I'll treat you right if you'll let me."
"Then send me back to the yacht, Boris. I'll give my word to divide the treasure with you. My friends will do as I say. You don't want to break my heart, do you? Think of all the dreadful murder that has been done by you."
"Not by me, but by you and your friends. I offered to compromise and you would not. Now it is too late. No, by God! I'll play the game out to a fighting finish."
She gave a sobbing little cry.
"Have you no heart?"
His voice fell a note. He moved close to her.
"Cherie, you have stolen it and hold it fast in this little palm I kiss!"
By the sounds from within she must have struggled in vain. I told myself:
"Not yet, not yet!"
"In such fashion my ancestor Bothwell wooed Mary Queen of Scots. Fain she would, but dare not. She knew he was a man and a lover out of ten thousand, and though her heart beat fast for him she was afraid. She fled, and he followed. For he was a lover not to be denied, though a king must die to clear the road. So it is with Boris, my queen."
"You mean——?"
The catch in her voice told me she breathed fast.
He laughed, with that soft boisterousness that marked his merriment.
"Your mad Irishman is no king, but he has crossed my path enough. Next time he dies."
"Because he has tried to serve me!"
"Because he is in my way. Reason enough for me."
The door knob was in my hand. All I had to do was to open it and shoot the man dead. But what after that? His men would swarm down and murder me before the eyes of my love. And she would be left alone with a pack of wolves which had already tasted blood.
It was the hardest ordeal of my life to keep quiet while the fellow pressed his hateful suit, pushed it with the passionate ardor of the Slav, regardless of her tears, her despair, and her helplessness.
For