Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake
The eyes of the two men encountered as Lauré spoke, and a strange foreboding feeling came over Dutch as he slowly made his preparations. It seemed to him that it was quite possible, now the treasure of two sunken galleons had been recovered, Lauré might forego further search, having determined to make sure of his find, and if this were the case, the young man argued, he might now begin to put in force some of his former tactics. What if he were now to try to get rid of him for Hester’s sake – for the sake of the woman who had repelled all his advances, but who was now completely in his power.
True he had hardly noticed her of late, but there was that in the Cuban’s eyes that told of smothered volcanic passion that might at any moment burst into flame, and Dutch felt that if he escaped from injury that evening he would try and bring forward the plot that must be now nearly ripe, and strike before it was too late.
There were men on board who would, after the first blow was successfully struck, he argued, be ready to side with the victorious party, irrespective of whom it might be, and this blow must be struck, and at once, before it was too late.
He was brought back to the realities of his position by a few sharp words from Lauré, supplemented by a brutal jerk from Rasp, while as he secured portions of his waterproof dress, and glanced round the deck, everything seemed to be imprinted on his brain with vivid force. There was the last heap of wet silver, mingled with stone, shell, and seaweed, the little streams of water trickling from it to the scuppers, and there by the pump, which it had become their duty to work, were the captain, the doctor, and Mr Wilson, while just emerging from the cabin, and supporting John Studwick each by a hand, came Hester and Bessy to lead the invalid to a seat by the side.
Dutch saw Lauré’s eyes flash as Hester came on deck, and the young man’s veins tingled with rage.
But he was helpless, and could only obey. And, besides, he felt that this was no time for annoyance coming to his young wife; so, exchanging glances with her, and trying to impart confidence in her breast, though he felt none, he prepared to go down.
But first he took one glance round at the beautiful sea and shore, and then, with the foreboding of coming danger on the increase, he assumed his helmet; it was roughly secured by Rasp; and he walked to the ladder at the side with the old fellow guiding him.
As he turned to place his feet on the steps, it might have been imagination, but certainly Rasp looked at him through the glass windows of the helmet in a peculiar way, and more significant still the young man felt the life-line thrust into his hand.
“Then there is danger,” thought Dutch, as he lowered himself down, and his heart began to beat violently; but as his head disappeared beneath the surface of the water, and the old familiar sensations of diving were experienced, he began to smile at his terrors, and to accuse himself of want of manliness.
“Rasp’s rough behaviour is all a blind to throw dust in Lauré’s eyes, and the look and the significant placing of the life-line in my hands means that something is to take place to-night.”
He was convinced of this now, and reaching the bottom he took up an iron rod, and began to move slowly about over the rotten timbers that had been uncovered, and to probe and search in all directions. The sand had been cleared out of the vessel all but amidships, and there they had at the first attempt come upon remains that showed how a large number of the crew must have been below deck when the ship sunk; and as the silver seemed to lie away from here, Dutch and Mr Parkley had agreed to leave the bones buried in the sand where they lay; but now that this imperative order had come from their taskmaster Dutch took the piece of iron, and began to search with it by thrusting it down into the sand.
He shuddered as he did so, for he could tell that it certainly came in contact with buried bones, sometimes, by the feel, with a skull, and several times he left off with a shudder, resuming his task in a hopeless way, and wondering whether success were to attend their effort, and when it would be made.
Just then the recollection of the rich treasure in gold that was known only to himself came to his mind, and he smiled as he thought of what would be Lauré’s feelings if he knew what had been left behind. And as he thought of this, he thrust the iron rod down once more, and his heart began to beat again, for, unless he was much mistaken, there beneath the remains of the former occupants of the galleon lay just such a receptacle as the one he had formerly found.
He probed again and again, making deep holes in the sand, which were filled up directly he withdrew the rod; and now, marking out the spot, he became convinced, not that it was gold, but that another goodly treasure of metal lay beneath the sand.
It were all plain enough, just a square receptacle, all metal, he believed gold, but certainly silver was there, and as soon as he thrust the probe down outside that square it went down, down through wood and sand to any depth.
“It is another treasure of gold,” exclaimed Dutch, and his words sounded strangely to him as they were spoken in the hollow of his helmet, and he paused to consider whether he should announce his discovery, or keep it secret like the last.
“It shall be a secret,” he said. “We may live to survive this unfortunate voyage, and if we do, may come again, for here is what would recompense us for all our pains, and it is no uncertainty; no, there is the treasure, and – ”
He signalled sharply for more air, looking up through the clear bright sunlit water, and as he did so feeling that the supply was stopped, he saw that the long india-rubber tube had been cut, and was sinking slowly towards him, like some strange grey snake.
Story 1-Chapter XXXIII.
In Peril
Hester turned shuddering away as she saw Lauré’s eyes fixed upon her, and soon began to tremble as she recalled a previous occasion when under a threat the Cuban exacted a promise from her, one that, believing her husband’s life at stake, she had given.
She tried to look in other directions, to devote herself to attending upon poor, weak John Studwick; but it was impossible, and strive how she would, her attention was constantly drawn back to the Cuban, who, with a smile upon his lip, watched her anxiety, and horrified her by coming to where the tube ran from the air-pump over the side, and picking it up held it in his hand as he glanced at her white face.
Then he threw it down again, and turning to the men about him, spoke first to one and then to another, with the result that each of the scoundrels seemed placed upon his guard, and to be ready for any emergency.
Lauré, according to his custom, was armed to the teeth, carrying quite a little arsenal in his belt, and, after going round to the men, he advanced to where Rasp was standing.
“Is that fellow working well?” he said aloud.
“Pretty well,” growled Rasp, taking some snuff. “Getting a bit lazy, though. He don’t work like he did when he was at it for himself.”
Lauré walked up and down the deck three or four times, and then stopped short by Hester, who shrank from his touch as he laid his hand upon her arm.
“When is pretty Hester Pugh coming to make amends for all her coldness?” he said, with a smile.
She did not speak, only cowered away, with her eyes fixed on his, like a bird beneath the glance of a snake.
“I say, when is pretty little Hester going to reward me for all my patience and perseverance?” he repeated. “No, no! don’t run away, little timidity. I am very dreadful, am I not? I am a terrible fellow to seize upon the ship, and make the scoundrels who tried to rob me work for my treasure. What – no answer?”
Hester could not have spoken had she wished, for her position seemed to paralyse her. An indignant word might cause the wretch who persecuted her to endanger once more her husband’s life, and so she crouched there trembling.
The doctor and Captain Studwick were at the pumps, but she dare not appeal to them lest more mischief should befall, and hence she sat there trembling, feeling how thoroughly they were in the monster’s power.
“She is coy and angry at our neglect,” said Lauré, sneeringly. “Well, well, we must excuse it, for we have been too busy even to think of love. Let us apologise, then, and say that we love her more than ever; and now that the work is nearly done, we are going to seek our reward henceforward here, Hester.”
He laid his hand once more upon her arm, but she shrunk shuddering away, and the Cuban walked angrily to the side, where, with the tube in his hand, he stood gazing down, and watching the action of Dutch as he moved from place to place far below in the pure water.
He glanced round once, and saw that Hester, with dilated eyes, was watching his every movement, and feeling that he had, as it were, her heart-strings in his hand, he pretended to ignore her presence on the other side of the deck, and played with the tube that was the life of Dutch Pugh, now pinching it or bending it so that the supply of air was slightly hindered, when Rasp, unobserved, signalled to those at the air-pump with one hand, causing them to accelerate their toil and so keep up the supply.
Just then, though so weak that he could hardly walk, John Studwick crossed the deck. Bessy would have accompanied him, but he hoarsely told her to keep back, and so soft and slow was his step that he had his thin white hand upon the Cuban’s arm before the latter was aware of his presence.
“You cowardly cur!” said John Studwick, glaring at him with his unnaturally bright eyes, and with his hollow cheeks burning with a hectic flush. “I can hardly think it possible that God can let such a villain live.”
Lauré started as if he had been stung, and his hand sought one of the pistols in his belt.
“Pistols, yes,” said John Studwick. “But pistols or no pistols, if I had the strength of a man instead of being a helpless wreck, one of us should not leave this deck alive.”
Captain Studwick and the doctor were intensely excited, but they dared not leave the air-pump lest the supply should fail for Dutch; but Mr Wilson drew nearer, and stood with parting lips and trembling hands watching the scene, while some of the armed crew now began to take an interest in the affair.
“Go down to your berth – to your kennel – sick dog that you are,” cried Lauré savagely, as he showed his white teeth like the animal he mentioned. “Speak to me like that again, and you shall not live long enough to see your pretty sister become my mistress, like Hester Pugh.”
“You cowardly ruffian!” cried the young man, tottering on the brink of the grave as he was, and as he spoke he sprang at Lauré’s throat, clinging there with both hands, and in his surprise the Cuban staggered back. But only for a moment; the next Lauré had shaken him off, and as the feeble man tottered away the ruffian drew a revolver, cocked it rapidly, and fired at the invalid as he fell.
The bullet flew up through the rigging, for Wilson struck up his arm, and Lauré turned savagely upon him, while the captain and the doctor were starting from the air-pump to go to Wilson’s aid, when they were paralysed by a shout from Rasp.
“Pump, pump! or you’ll kill Dutch Pugh.”
Hester uttered a wild shriek, and the handles flew round again as she darted to the air-pump, and as if feeling that she could help her husband, seized the tube.
This cry and her act saved Wilson’s life, for Lauré, not a yard from him, was taking deadly aim at his head, his furious countenance bearing plainly stamped on it the determination to slay. Seeing Hester’s act, then, he lowered the pistol, stuck it in his belt, and, as if the opportunity had come, and an excuse for revenge, he drew the keen sword he carried and with one cut divided the air-tube as it lay upon the deck.
Hester uttered another cry, and then stood like the rest, paralysed, as the tube writhed like a living creature, undulated, and then rapidly ran over the side, when the woman’s whole nature seemed changed. From a gentle, timid, shrinking creature she was transformed into one reckless of life and free from fear, and, throwing herself upon Lauré, she caught the sword by the hilt, and tried to wrest it from his hand, while he, astonished at the change, gave way.
The cutting of the tube had set the two men free, or it would have gone hard with Hester. Captain Studwick flew to her help, armed with an iron screw-hammer that he had caught up, while the doctor seized a lever and ran to assist, but only to receive a heavy blow from behind, as, at a call from Lauré, his men closed in, and the struggle became general.
Story 1-Chapter XXXIV.
Rasp’s Plans
Dutch Pugh’s doom was not sealed, for, as he was struggling on, holding his breath, and trying to reach the ladder and climb up before he should become senseless, there came help.
It was Lauré’s act he knew, and even in those excited moments he could tell that here was the meaning of the forebodings he had felt, and the thought of Hester left in the villain’s power half maddened him as his temples throbbed, his senses began to reel, and he staggered, and felt that something was holding him back from the haven of safety he sought to reach.
Pleasant old memories began to float before his vision – days when he had wandered with Hester through the sunny country lanes, and she confessed her love for him; and all seemed bright and beautiful. He was in no pain, and he only knew that he had just reached the ladder, and was trying to ascend, when a dark cloud floated before his eyes – a cloud of dark-red blood, and then there was a shock and a concussion, and he knew no more.
The shock was the jerking of the life-rope, and the concussion was his helmet striking against the side of the ladder, for as the struggle went on, Rasp gave the word to Oakum and ’Pollo, they hauled together, and, in spite of the weight, ran Dutch up to the side in a few moments, dragged him through the gangway, and as he lay on the deck Rasp rapidly stooped down and, turning a screw, threw open one of the plate-glass eyes of the helmet.
“Further this way,” whispered Rasp again, and, Oakum stooping down with him, they dragged the senseless man along the deck, away from the struggle that was going on.
At the end of two or three minutes, Oakum and Rasp, who felt that the time was not ripe, and that any attempt at resistance on their part would have resulted, as they were unarmed, in failure, saw the captain, Mr Meldon, and Wilson driven below, Mr Parkley, in his cumbersome diving suit, being thrust down directly after; and then the conquerors turned towards John Studwick, who was lying panting where he had been dashed, with his sister holding his head in her lap, while Hester had run to the side of her husband.
Old Rasp ground his teeth as, at the Cuban’s orders, the invalid was roughly raised by the men, in spite of Bessy’s shrieks, dragged from her, and thrown down the hatchway, while Bessy was dragged to the fore cabin and thrust down there.
“I’m a saving of all this up, Sam Oakum,” whispered Rasp. “I shall pay it all off on Mr Blackguard here some day.”
“Some night,” whispered Sam Oakum back in a choking voice, “and that’s to-night.”
“What did you drag that dog here for?” cried the Cuban, now coming up, sword in hand, and making a thrust at the prostrate figure, as Hester tried to relievo Dutch of his helmet.
“Here, mind what you’re after,” said Rasp, snappishly, warding off the blow with an iron bar. “Don’t be a fool. ’Spose you spyle that ingy-rubber soot, how are we going to get another?”
The Cuban turned upon him furiously, but as the quaint old fellow seemed not in the least afraid, he turned it off with a laugh.
“What did I pull him up for, eh?” said Rasp. “Why, becos I haven’t done with him. I haven’t forgot my percentage on the silver, captain, and this one’s worth half-a-dozen of that t’other old chap.”
“You’re a strange fellow, Rasp,” said the Cuban.
“Strange, am I? I’ve been a diver this forty year a’most, and I’ve never had such diving as this afore. It’s too good to be spyled because you get wild, so now then.”
“You’re right, Rasp,” said the Cuban, laughing, as Hester darted an indignant look at the gruff and apparently heartless old fellow. “Here, a couple of you, throw this dog down in the cabin.”
As a couple of the men approached, the Cuban took a turn up and down the deck, and Hester started as Rasp, while apparently leaning over the helmet, whispered:
“Don’t you resist, my pretty one, but go as he tells you; there’s help a coming.”
Lauré turned sharply back, stooped down, and caught the trembling woman by the wrist.
“Enough of this,” he exclaimed sharply, for one peculiarity of the man was that every time he was about to proceed to some act of violence he worked himself into a rage. “You come to me now.”
Hester hung back from him and tried to cling to her prostrate husband, but, remembering the words of old Rasp, she suffered Lauré to lead her forward.
“That’s more sensible,” he said, with a look that made her shrink. “To-morrow we will change cabins with those aft.”
He led her to the hatch, down which Bessy had been thrust, and ordered her to descend, which she did after a trembling glance at her husband, who still lay insensible, but with Rasp and Oakum bending over him, and the next moment, finding that she was evidently in the part that the Cuban had had furnished for his own use, and beyond which was his little sleeping cabin, she was clasped in Bessy Studwick’s arms.
“Why have you not thrown that dog overboard or below?” cried the Cuban, returning to where Dutch lay.
“Don’t you be in such a ’nation hurry,” growled Rasp. “I’m not going to have my helmets and diving tackle misused by nobody. These things may be worth fifty thousands pounds yet, and if they’re bruised or have holes broke in ’em, how are we to get ’em mended?”
As he spoke, Rasp, with Oakum’s help, dragged off the india-rubber suit and removed the helmet very carefully.
“There,” he said, “now you can have him; and none of your pitching him down like you did the others. He’s valuable, he is.”
The Cuban kicked the senseless man brutally as he lay, and, two of the sailors taking him by the legs and arms, he was dragged to the hatch, and then drawn heavily down the stairs.
“If I don’t warm the wax o’ that fellow’s ears for all this, Sam Oakum, my name ain’t Rasp,” said the old fellow, laughing to himself. “I want one of these here diving suits very pertickler, my friend, very pertickler indeed. Ho, ho, ho!”
“Right,” said Oakum, in a low voice. “To-night, mind.”
“Oakum,” said the Cuban sharply; and the old sailor faced round, wondering whether he had been heard, while Rasp went on mending and arranging his diving tackle as if nothing was the matter.
“Sir to you,” said Sam.
“I shall sail to-night or to-morrow morning. Have all ready.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” said Sam cheerfully; and then to himself, “Perhaps you will, and for a longish voyage.”
“We’ve got all the silver here, and I think I shall try one more spot.”
“All right, capen,” said Sam; “nothing like having a good cargo while you’re about it.”
“Have all ready,” said the Cuban gloomily.
“Right, capen,” said Sam, “but – ”
“Well, what?” said the Cuban, looking sharply round as if in search of danger; but the shore was on every side verdant and beautiful, the sea calm and bright, and nothing to show the horrors of the ship but a few spots of blood upon the white deck.
“I was on’y going to say as if I was skipper I should put off the start till the morning.”
“Why?” said the Cuban, looking at him searchingly.
“The sun’ll be down afore we could work out of this snug place so as to ketch the breeze, and there’s a rock there, and a rock there, and a couple more to starboard, and three off yonder to port. I shouldn’t like to take off a bit of the schooner’s keel, or poke a hole in her bottom, with all that silver aboard. A man likes to obey orders, capen: but when he’s got a stake in the safe running of the cargo, it makes him partickler like.”
“You’re right,” said the Cuban. “At daybreak, then.”
“Daybreak it is,” said Sam, giving his trousers a hitch; and taking out a little silver pipe, he blew a shrill note. “All hands ahoy!” he roared, and as the men collected, he set to work clearing away the lumber, coiling ropes ship-shape, hoisted a boat that had been down over the side, and then altered his mind and had it lowered again. “We shall want it for towing her head round in the morning,” he said, and so busied himself so as to have everything well forward, while the Cuban looked on with an approving eye.
“You shan’t be forgotten for all this, Sam Oakum,” he said.
“Thankye, capen, thankye,” said Sam, as the Cuban walked forward, and the old sailor filled a pipe for an extra luxury, just as it was getting dark.
“Here, you black-faced son of a coal-hole, give’s a light,” cried Sam, loudly, as he went to the galley where ’Pollo was busy preparing tea for all on board.
“Yes, Mass’ Oakum,” said the black, flinching from a blow aimed at him as he spoke, when, to the poor fellow’s horror, Sam seized him by the scruff of the neck, pushed his head into an open barrel, and whispered:
“Don’t you make a sound, ’Pollo, old man. It’s all my larks. Don’t laugh, you lubber, but get your biggest carving knife, and hide here in the middle watch: there’s a game on, my lad, and I want you to help to retake the ship.”
“Oh, golly, Mass’ Oakum, sah, dat I will; I bress de lor’, sah, you not big rufiyun affer all. I bress de lor’.”
“Hush! hold your tongue, lad. Mum’s the word. Now then, you black nigger, look alive with that grub,” he said aloud. “I’m ’most starving.”
He came out puffing away at his pipe as the Cuban came slowly along the deck, looking suspiciously at Sam, who, however, did not seem to heed his look, but fixing himself on the bulwark, with his legs under him, and his arm round one of the shrouds, he half-shut his eyes, and smoked away as if with real enjoyment, blinking at the shore, and all the while ripening his plans for the fierce work to be undertaken that night.
Story 1-Chapter XXXV.
Prisoners
Meanwhile, to Hester’s horror, she found that they were to be prisoners in Lauré’s cabin, and that the drunken scoundrel who shared it with him kept coming down blinking and leering at them, making their very blood run cold.
His offensive manner was, however, for the time stopped by the Cuban, who came down, and pointing to the inner cabin bade them go in there.
Their only course was to obey, and the two trembling women crouched together, dreading the coming night, and yet hoping that some successful effort would be made for their release.
“Let us hope and pray, Bessy,” said Hester, trying to be cheerful, in spite of her misery. “Dear old Rasp’s words were not uttered without meaning.”
“But is he to be trusted?” sobbed Bessy; “he was with our enemies.”
“Trusted? yes,” cried Hester; “his behaviour must have been to deceive the wretches, and he and old Oakum are working for our release.”
“If I could only be as hopeful as you are, Hester.”
“I am full of hope now,” cried Hester. “I can wait, and feel strong and full of energy, with my husband’s trust. Time back I could have died in my misery.”
As the hours passed on, they could hear the Cuban and his companion talking in the next cabin, and the clink of glasses told that they were drinking.
All on deck was very still. They had heard the sounds of preparation till nightfall, and then everything became very quiet; and, clinging together, the two women sat with every sense on the strain, listening for the danger they knew to be at hand, while they hoped for the rescue that might come.
It grew rapidly dark, and their cabin was only lit by the gleams that came beneath and through a few ventilation holes in the door, a glance through which, once timidly taken, showed the Cuban drinking heavily with his companion, who grew more stupid and riotous, while the only effect upon Lauré was to make his eyes glow as he sat glancing from time to time at the door.
Every now and then, too, some allusion to the prisoners made the women’s hearts palpitate with horror, and more than once Hester glanced at the little window as if through that she must seek for the help that was so long in coming, for that she knew would be protection from the outrage she dreaded for them both.
