Spanish Gold/Chapter 19

HEY reached the cabin. Old O'Flaherty fumbled at the latch and opened the door. Inside, the place was almost quite dark. A few sparks glowed faintly on the hearth. The small square window looked like a grey patch on the black wall. Meldon paused at the threshold, unwilling to advance without light towards unknown furniture, over a pitted and hilly earthen floor. O'Flaherty disappeared into a corner and could be heard breaking sticks. The fragments were flung on the hearth. The old man went down on his knees and blew the embers.

"I have the end of a candle on the dresser beyond," he said, "if I could come by as much fire as would light it."

"If that's what you're after," said Meldon, "I have a box of matches in my pocket."

He drew out the box and struck one. O'Flaherty pounced on his candle, lit it, and set it on the stone seat which filled an angle of the wide hearth.

"Let you give me a hand now, and we'll shift the dresser," he said. "I could do it myself, but it'll be done quicker if you take the near end of it."

Meldon caught hold of the dresser and pulled it over to the far side of the room. O'Flaherty stood on a wooden stool and took down a shovel which rested among the rafters of the roof. He scooped away loose earth from the place where the dresser had stood. At the depth of about an inch he came upon a number of boards laid close together. He prized up one of them with the edge of the shovel and lifted the others out. A hole lay open. Meldon peered into it but could see nothing. He fumbled for his matches. O'Flaherty fetched the candle from the stone seat in the hearth. He lay flat and, stretching his hand into the hole, held the candle far down. Meldon saw piles of coins standing in neat rows. He, too, lay down on the floor, reached into the hole, and, touching them with his fingers, counted the piles. There were ninety-eight of them. He lifted one and counted the coins in it. There were twenty.

"Hold the candle here," he said.

Thomas O'Flaherty, rising to his knees, set the candle on the floor at the edge of the hole.

"They're all gold, every single one of them," said Meldon. "If those were no more than just ordinary sovereigns you'd have pretty near two thousand pounds. But by the weight of them I'd say that they're worth two or three sovereigns each. You're a rich man, Thomas O'Flaherty Pat. There may be richer men in the province of Connacht, but I don't believe there's one with the same command of ready cash. I declare to goodness, if it wasn't for Gladys Muriel, I'd wait a few years on the chance of getting Mary Kate. However did you get all that money up out of the cave?"

"I did have a bit of rope fixed to a big stone the way it wouldn't shift on me and me going up and down. The lids of the iron boxes gave me my 'nough of work before I got them lifted, and them rusty with the damp there was in it. But, with the help of God, I got them lifted at the latter end. Then I'd be putting the gold into a bit of a bag that I had on me. It was very little I could take at the one time, for it would surprise you how heavy it is, and me having to climb the rope and not one at the top to give me a hand. Maybe it wouldn't be more than once in the day and often not that much itself that I'd go down. I did be in dread that some of the boys would discover what I was after. From first to last I wasn't less than a whole year at the job."

"You would be all that," said Meldon. "It's a mortal pity I wasn't here at the time. We'd have rigged up some sort of pulley at the top of the hole, and with me filling at the bottom and you taking the stuff at the top we'd have had it out in a single day. But there's no use talking about that now. The gold's here, right enough, however you got it."

Meldon turned the coins over and over in his hand, held one to the light and then another, felt the weight of them singly and then two or three at a time.

"What put you on to it?" he said. "What made you think of looking in that hole?"

"Sure the people always had it that there was a deal of gold on the island somewhere. My father knew it and his father before him, and everybody had heard tell of it. Long ago they did be searching for it. There was two of the gentry once came to look after it. But people got tired, finding nothing, and at the latter end they gave it up. It's maybe a hundred years since anybody laid down his mind to look for it. But there was one place that I knew nobody ever searched, and that was the Poll-na-phuca."

"Why not?"

"They'd be in dread on account of them that do be in it."

"Them that—oh, the fairies, of course!"

"Well, I used to be turning it over and over in my mind and me no more than a gossure. And I said to myself that seeing the gold was somewhere and that there was just one place that nobody would be caring to look for it, it was there it must surely be. It came into my mind, too, that the like of them that hid it first wouldn't be in dread of who might be in the hole or who might not. I've heard them say that the gentry doesn't give much heed to them tales. Indeed, they might choose out the Poll-na-phuca just by reason of there being many another that wouldn't go next or nigh it"

"That was a fine piece of deductive reasoning," said Meldon. "I couldn't have argued the thing out better myself. I say, Tom—you won't mind my calling you Tom, will you? I'll say Pat if you like, but your whole name is too long for frequent use—the wind's rising. Did you hear that last gust? It's going to be a nasty night."

"It was long enough," said old O'Flaherty, shading the candle from the draught, "before I could get my mind laid down to go into the Poll-na-phuca. I'd be saying to myself in the daytime that I'd go and thinking maybe I'd better not when it was dark. Or it would be the storms in the winter and the noises there'd be coming out of it would make me think it would be wiser to leave that sort of people to themselves and not be meddling with them. But in the latter end, when I was getting used to living near it and no harm coming to me, I went down."

"And did ever you come across a leprachaun or anything of that sort? Tell me the truth now."

"I might, then. Believe you me there's queer things that nobody, not the clergy themselves, knows about, down in the depths of the bowels of the earth where the sun doesn't be shining. There's queer things there."

"Higginbotham says there's pliocene clay."

"There might. I wouldn't say but there is. The likes of him would surely know. But there's more."

"I wouldn't wonder," said Meldon. "I didn't come across anything of the sort myself; but then I was only there once, and besides, I'm not the sort of man that a fairy would come near. But we can't afford to spend the night in gossiping. Are you still bent on my taking the gold away with me in the yacht?"

"I am."

"It'll take the best part of the night to get it on board. For one thing I'm bound to waken Major Kent the first trip and then I'll have to give him some sort of an explanation of what I'm doing. You don't know the Major and so you can hardly realise the length of time it takes to explain anything to him. He'll want to argue, and he's always in a bad temper when you first wake him. The morning will hardly see us through the job. Luckily the only person with any sort of right to interfere is Higginbotham. He's frightfully officious, and you never can tell what his Board might regard as coming under the head of mining rights. But it's easy to put Higginbotham off the scent. Do you happen to have that bag anywhere about, the one you used to take down into the cave?"

O'Flaherty rose, climbed on his stool again, and grubbed among some dirty sails and nets which hung on a beam above the hearth. He descended with an ancient flour sack in his hand.

"That's not such a small bag as you led me to believe," said Meldon. "I wouldn't care to go off in out punt with that bag full of gold. You may have noticed that ours is one of those patent collapsible punts, and you have to be uncommonly careful what you take in them. The best thing we can do is put a few hundred of your doubloons in the bottom of the sack, ferry them off, and then come back for more. My goodness, listen to that! There must be half a gale of wind blowing this minute and that won't make the job of navigating the Major's beastly hat of a punt any easier. Still, if nothing else will do you except to get the stuff on to the Spindrift, we'll Hallo! what on earth are you doing with the candle?"

Old O'Flaherty rose suddenly to his knees as Meldon spoke, held the light aloft, gave an inarticulate cry, and then dropped the candle. As he did so Meldon was struck on the head from behind and rolled over senseless on the floor.

"I've settled the curate," said Sir Giles Buckley. "Have you got a hold of the old man?"

Euseby Langton had not got hold of O'Flaherty. His nerve had failed him at the moment of assault and he stood helpless in the door. Thomas O'Flaherty realised his position at once. He rose from his knees and began to move silently through the hut. It was quite dark.

"No," said Langton. "I—I missed him."

"Damn it!" said Sir Giles; "we must get him or he'll raise hell all over the island. I can't see a stim."

O'Flaherty guessed from the sound of his voice that Langton was in the door and that his way of escape was barred. He moved through the hut in the hope that Langton might be tempted to pursue him. Sir Giles felt after him in the dark; but the place, familiar to O'Flaherty, was strange to him.

"Stay in the door, Langton," he cried. "Don't let him pass you."

He struck a match and caught sight of O'Flaherty standing a few yards in front of him. But the old man was ready for the manoeuvre and had his wits about him. He struck at the match with his hand and extinguished it. Sir Giles made an effort to grapple him, failed, and dropped his match-box. O'Flaherty moved away from him, felt the shovel with his feet, stooped and picked it up.

"Strike a match, Langton," said Sir Giles.

The moment the first sparkle of light shone O'Flaherty struck at Sir Giles with the shovel. He brought the flat of the blade down on the arm which Sir Giles stretched out to guard his head. Then, with a call to Langton for help, Sir Giles flung himself on the old man. O'Flaherty was feeble, but he fought desperately. Sir Giles's right arm was numbed from the blow of the shovel. He called again for help. Langton seized O'Flaherty round the neck and pulled him backwards. Between them they overpowered the old man and laid him on the floor. They had come well provided with what they were likely to want. Ropes were produced. O'Flaherty was securely bound and gagged. Sir Giles drew a candle from his pocket and lit it.

"Now for the curate," he said. "I've knocked the senses out of him anyway. It's a good job I hit hard. I wouldn't care to be scrapping in the dark with him. The old fellow gave me enough to do, and you're nothing but a damned coward, Langton. Now we'll tie up the Rev. J. J. Meldon and gag him, so that he won't stir even if he comes to. When there's light enough we'll lower the two of them into the cave and leave them there."

"That'll be murder," said Langton, "and I told you I'd have nothing to do with murder."

"Don't be an infernal ass. There's no murder. Some fool or other will find them to-morrow or the day after, and they'll be alive all right. We must get a clear start out of this. Don't you know that the steamer would overtake us at once if she started after us? And she will if those two fellows are found and tell their story. Come and give me a hand."

Meldon's legs were tied together. His hands were lashed to his sides. A gag was forced into his mouth and secured.

"Now we have him safe," said Sir Giles, "even if he does come to. Let's get at the gold. We've no time to waste."

Meldon's head was a hard one. Very shortly after he was bound he recovered consciousness. He recognised Sir Giles and Langton and saw that they were stooping over the hole where the treasure lay. He saw them lifting out the coins and putting them into a leather hand-bag which lay beside them on the floor.

He could recollect nothing of what had happened, bu he grasped at once the obvious fact that old O'Flaherty was being robbed. He struggled at the ropes which bound his hands and feet, but found that he could not stir them. The gag prevented him from either speaking or crying. One form of activity alone remained possible for him. He rolled across the floor of the hut.

It is not easy to roll in a straight line towards any given object. The human body, like a biassed bowl, has a tendency to turn on the hips as on an axle, and arrive ultimately somewhere near the place from which it started. But the distance which Meldon had to travel was not great. He succeeded, after convulsive efforts, in cannoning with some force against Langton. Taken completely unawares, Langton toppled forwards, extinguishing the candle in his fall. A further effort upset the bag into the hole, and then Meldon followed it and fell, doubled up, on top of the treasure.

Sir Giles cursed vehemently. He stood up in order that he might curse with better emphasis. As a further relief to his feelings he kicked Langton, who still sprawled beside the hole. Then he went down on his hands and knees and felt about for the candle. The search drew from him other expressions of annoyance. Meldon, though his position in the hole was extremely uncomfortable, found a good deal of pleasure in listening to Sir Giles. At last the candle was retrieved and lit again.

"I'd better knock that infernal parson on the head again," said Sir Giles. "It's the only possible way of keeping him quiet."

"Don't; you'll most likely kill him."

"Nothing would kill that fellow. He wouldn't die if you hanged him."

"I won't have you smashing his skull anyway. Can't you take him outside the door and leave him there?"

Meldon was pulled out of the hole, dragged across the floor of the hut, and deposited on a bank of grass opposite the door. It was raining heavily.

"Cool yourself there awhile," said Sir Giles. "When it's light enough I'm going to drop you down into the cave that the treasure came out of. You and that damned old ragman can lie at the bottom of it and look at each other till somebody comes to rescue you."

Meldon received a good many bruises and scratches, but he retained his consciousness. He knew where he was. Below him was the end of the bohireen and the door of the hut. His mind was filled with a vehement rage against Sir Giles. He was totally indifferent to anything that might happen to himself. He desired intensely to do something which would obstruct, annoy, and, if possible, injure the man whom he regarded as a personal enemy. He hit upon a plan which seemed hopeful.

He writhed to and fro until he succeeded in rolling down the bank to the bohireen. By much wriggling he arranged himself across the path. His head was on the grass at one side, his feet on the grass at the other. He lay on his side with his face towards the door of the hut. He was extremely uncomfortable. !A stream of water was running down the stony track. His body dammed it, and it mounted up against him, soaking him through. The wind blew more water against the part of his clothes which the stream did not reach. A sharp-pointed stone stuck into his right shoulder. His face was cut and plastered with mud. His body seemed to be bruised all over. His head ached violently. But all this mattered nothing to him for the moment. His faculties were absorbed in watching the door of the hut.

Sir Giles and Langton appeared. They carried between them the leather bag, full almost to the bursting-point. Langton held the candle in one hand, but it was almost immediately extinguished by a gust of wind. Their eyes were not yet accustomed to the darkness. They took the first few steps cautiously. Meldon turned over on his face and waited, lying quite flat. He felt a foot touch him. He drew his knees up under him and arched his back Suddenly. The stratagem was entirely successful. Sir Giles pitched forward and fell, dragging the bag from Langton's hands. It burst open and the contents were scattered broadcast over the muddy lane. Meldon, highly delighted, waited for the volley of oaths which was to be expected. He was disappointed. Sir Giles rose in silence. His anger this time was too fierce for blasphemy. He stood over Meldon and kicked him savagely on arms and legs and body. He was wearing rubber-soled yachting shoes, and his vengeance was not as ferocious as it looked. Missing Meldon once or twice owing to the darkness and his rage, he kicked stones and hurt his own toes greatly. Langton, who failed to realise the feebleness of the assault, protested.

"Drop that. Drop it, I say. Do you want to let yourself and me in for being hanged? If you leave the man in the middle of the path you've no one to blame but yourself when you trip over him. What's the use of behaving like a madman?"

"I didn't leave him here. He crawled here himself."

"Rot," said Langton. "He couldn't crawl."

"I'll put him somewhere this time that he won't get away from so easy."

He gripped Meldon by the feet and hauled him up the bank. He dragged him along the grass till he came to a wall. He called Langton to his assistance and between them they lifted Meldon over it and deposited him in a ditch at the far side.

"Get back over that if you can," said Sir Giles.

He kicked Meldon again. "So far," he said, "I've just had one solid piece of satisfaction this evening. I've stopped your talking with that gag. If I did right I'd cut your tongue out now I have you tied, so that you'd never be able to talk again."

Meldon listened. It annoyed him very much that he could not speak. He wanted to refer Sir Giles to the case, discussed by the historian Gibbon, of certain Christian martyrs, who spoke fluently and well after being deprived of their tongues by an executioner. He also wanted to say, that so far, working against long odds, he had got the better of the struggle and had annoyed Sir Giles more than Sir Giles had annoyed him. He tried to give expression to his feelings by winking first with one eye and then with the other. But it was so dark that the winks could not be seen, and Sir Giles departed without knowing what Meldon thought of him.