uilierGDnch) 
 
 1 'tiOtiaiMUMivxKf.i.
 
 i : NO 
 
 VISION : K 
 
 ^ 1 TO HARDY-
 
 POISON ISLAND
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 SIR JOHN CONSTANTINE 
 
 6s. Second Impeession Os. 
 
 Spectator. — ' We have nothing but praise for a story 
 which is not only " Q.'s " finest achievement, but one which 
 must Btand very near the work of the greatest of the 
 romantics.' 
 
 Daily Telegraph. — ' Ileally a splendid book, for the 
 adventures are those of living people, full of hunianitj' and 
 humour ; and while we read it we get lost in it, forgetting 
 the outside world, listening, as if we were listening to a 
 livin<t voice.' 
 
 Morning Post. — 'In "Sir John Constantine" "Q" 
 appc-irs to us to have reached high-water mark. The author 
 has never given us so happy a combination of his buoyant 
 humour and his romantic mysticism.' 
 
 SHAKESPEARE'S CHRISTMAS 
 
 68. AND OTHER STORIES 68. 
 
 Punch. — 'The stories are delightful. They are full of 
 character and action, touched up here and there with flashes 
 of humour.' 
 
 Truth. — 'A collection of stories in which "Q" is at his 
 best. This iiieana that all of them are very good.' 
 
 Manchester Guardian. — '"Q" is one of the few 
 writers whose new books are approached with unalloyed 
 pleasure, and the et'irics, collected under the title of the 
 lirst of them, are worthy of a place in the series.' 
 
 Country Life. — ' Mr. Quiller-Couch at his best. He is 
 wonderfully clever in himself ; he knows what good work- 
 manship is, and has, we were going to saj', so far as possible 
 mastered it himself.' 
 
 London: SMITH, ELDER A- CO., 15 Waterloo Place, S.W.
 
 POISON ISLAND 
 
 BY 
 
 5? 
 
 (A. T. QUILLER-COUCH) 
 
 LONDON 
 SMITH, ELDER & CO., 15, WATERLOO PLACE 
 
 1907 
 
 {All rights ixseived)
 
 I-RINTKI) BY 
 
 WTLLIAM CLOWKS AND SONS, LIMIT KD, 
 
 LONDON AND BRCCLES.
 
 
 LIBRAIIY 
 
 UJXiVERsrrY of caufohxu 
 
 SATSTA BARB.illA 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. How I FIRST MET WITH CAPTAm CoFFIN 
 
 II. I AM ENTERED AT COPENHAGEN ACADEMY 
 
 III. A Street Fight, and avhat came of it 
 
 IV. Captain Coffin studies Navigation 
 V. The Whaleboat ... 
 
 YI. My First Glimpse of the Chart 
 
 VII. Enter the Returned Prisoner 
 
 VIII. The Hunted and the Hunter ... 
 
 IX. Chaos in the Captain's Lodgings ... 
 
 X. News ... 
 
 XI. The Crime in the Summer-house 
 
 XII. The Bloodstain on the Stile ... 
 
 XIII. Clues in a Tangle 
 
 XIV. How I BROKE OUT THE ReD EnSIGN 
 
 XV. Captain Branscome's Confession — the 
 in the Lane 
 
 XVI. Captain Branscome's Confession — the 
 and the Cashbox ... 
 
 XVII. The Chart of Mortallone ... 
 
 Man 
 Flag 
 
 PAGE 
 
 1 
 10 
 16 
 
 24 
 35 
 45 
 53 
 62 
 72 
 79 
 89 
 97 
 110 
 120 
 
 131 
 
 144 
 
 157
 
 VI CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XVIII. The Contents of the Corner Cupboard ... 165 
 
 XIX. CAPTAm Coffin's Loo... ... ... 175 
 
 XX. Captain Coffin's Loo {continued) ... ... 188 
 
 XXI. In which Plinny suepbises Every One 198 
 
 XXn. A Strange Man in the Garden ... ... 208 
 
 XXIII. How WE SAILED TO THE ISLAND ... 220 
 
 XXIV. We anchor off the Island ... ... 227 
 
 XXV. I TAKE French Leave Ashore ... 237 
 
 XXVI. The Women in the Graveyard ... ... 248 
 
 XX Vn. The Man in Black ... 258 
 
 XXVIII. The Master of the Island ... ... 268 
 
 XXIX. A Boat on the Beach ... ... 280 
 
 XXX. The Scre.ui on the Cliff ... ... 286 
 
 XXXL Aaron Glass ... ... ... ... 295 
 
 XXXII. We come to Dr. Beauregard's House ... 305 
 
 XXXni. We find the Treasure ... ... 321 
 
 XXXIV. Doctor Beauregard ... ... ... 336
 
 POISON ISLAND 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 HOW I FIRST MET WITH CAPTAIN COFFIN 
 
 It was in the dusk of a July evening of the year 
 1813 (July 27, to be precise) that on my way back 
 from the mail-coach office, Falmouth, to Mr. Stimcoe's 
 Academy for the Sons of Gentlemen, No. 7, Delamere 
 Terrace, I first met Captain Coffin as he came, drunk 
 and cursing, up the Market Strand, with a rabble of 
 children at his heels. I have reason to remember the 
 date and hour of this encounter, not only for its 
 remarkable consequences, but because it befell on the 
 very day and within an hour or two of my matricu- 
 lation at Stimcoe's. That afternoon I had arrived at 
 Falmouth by Koyal Mail, in charge of Miss Plin- 
 limmon, my father's housekeeper; and now but ten 
 minutes ago I had seen off that excellent lady and 
 waved farewell to her — not without a sinking of the 
 heart — on her return journey to Minden Cottage, 
 which was my home. 
 
 My name is Harry Brooks, and my age on this 
 remembered evening was fourteen and something over. 
 
 B
 
 2 rOISON ISLAND 
 
 My father, Major James Brooks, late of the 4th (King's 
 Own) Ecgiinont, had married twice, and at the time 
 of his retirement from active service was for the 
 second time a widower. Blindness — contracted by 
 exposure and long marches over the snows of Galicia 
 — had put an end to a career by no means undis- 
 tinguished. In his last fight, at Corunna, he had 
 not only earned a mention in despatches from his 
 brigadier-general. Lord William Bentinck, but by his 
 alertness in handling his half-regiment at a critical 
 moment, and refusing its right to an outflanking lino 
 of French, had been privileged to win almost the last 
 word of praise uttered by his idolized commander. 
 My father heard, and faced about, but his eyes wevo 
 already failing him ; they missed the friendly smile 
 with which Sir John Moore turned, and cantered off 
 along the brigade, to encourage the 50th and 42nd 
 regiments, and to receive, a few minutes later, the 
 fatal cannon-shot. 
 
 Every one has heard what miseries the returning 
 transports endured in the bitter gale of January, 
 1809. The Londonderry, in which my father sailed, 
 did indeed escape wreck, but at the cost of a week's 
 beating about the mouth of the Channel. He was, 
 by riglits, an invalid, having taken a wound in the 
 kneecap from a spent bullet, one of the last fired in 
 th.e battle ; but in the common peril he bore a hand 
 with the best. For three days and two nights he 
 never shifted his clothing, which the gale alternately 
 soaked and froze. It was frozen stiff as a board when 
 the Londonderry made the entrance of Plymouth
 
 HOW I FIRST MET WITH CAPTAIN COFFIN 3 
 
 Sound ; and he was borne ashore in a rheumatic fever. 
 From this, and from his wound, the doctors restored 
 him at length, but meanwhile his eyesight had 
 perished. 
 
 His misfortunes did not end here. My step-sister 
 Isabel — a beautiful girl of seventeen, the only child 
 of his first marriage — had met him at Plymouth, 
 nursed him to convalescence, and brought him home 
 to Minden Cottage, to the garden which henceforward 
 he tilled, but saw only through memory. Since 
 then she had married a young officer in the 52nd 
 Eegiment, a Lieutenant Archibald Pliulimmon; but, 
 her husband having to depart at once for the Penin- 
 sula, she had remained with her father and tended 
 him as before, until death took her — as it had taken 
 her mother — in childbirth. The babe did not survive 
 her ; and, to complete the sad story, her husband fell 
 a few weeks later before Badajoz, while assaulting 
 the Picurina Gate with fifty axemen of the Light 
 Division. 
 
 Beneath these blows of fate my father did indeed 
 bow his head, yet bravely. From the day Isabel 
 died his shoulders took a sensible stoop; but this 
 was the sole evidence of the mortal wound he carried, 
 unless you count that from the same day he put 
 aside his "^neid," and taught me no more from it, 
 but spent his hours for the most part in meditation, 
 often with a Bible open on his knee — although his 
 eyes could not read it. Sally, our cook, told me one 
 day that when the foolish midwife came and laid the 
 child in his arms, not telling him that it was dead,
 
 4 POISON ISLAND 
 
 he felt it over aud broke forth iu a terrible cry — his 
 first and last protest. 
 
 In me — the only child of his second marriage, as 
 Isabel had been the only child of his first — he 
 appeared to have lost, and of a sudden, all interest. 
 While Isabel lived there had been reason for this, or 
 excuse at least, for he had loved her mother passion- 
 ately, whereas from mine he had separated within a 
 day or two after marriage, having married her only 
 because he was obliged — or conceived himself obliged 
 — by honour. Into this story I shall not go. It was 
 a sad one, and, strange to say, sadly creditable to 
 both. I do not remember my mother. She died, 
 having taken some pains to hide even my existence 
 from her husband, who, nevertheless, conscientiously 
 took up the burden. A man more strongly con- 
 scientious never lived ; and his sudden neglect of 
 me had nothing to do with caprice, but came — as I 
 am now assured — of some lesion of memory under the 
 shock of my sister's death. As an unregenerate 
 youngster I thought little of it at the time, beyond 
 rejoicing to be free of my daily lesson in Virgil. 
 
 I can see my father now, seated within the 
 summer-house by the filbert-tree at the end of the 
 orchard — his favourite haunt — or standing in the door- 
 way and drawing himself painfully erect, a giant of 
 a man, to inhale the scent of his flowers or listen to 
 his bees, or the voice of the stream which bounded our 
 small domain. I see him framed there, his head 
 almost touching the lintel, his hands gripping the 
 posts like a blind fc^amson's, all too strong for the
 
 HOW I FIRST MET WITH CAPTAIN COFFIN 5 
 
 flimsy trelliswork. He wore a brown holland suit in 
 summer, in colder weather a fustian one of like colour, 
 and at first glance you might mistake him for a 
 Quaker. His snow-white hair was gathered close 
 beside the temples, back from a face of ineffable 
 simplicity and goodness— the face of a man at peace 
 with God and all the world, yet marked with scars — 
 scars of bygone passions, cross-hatched and almost 
 effaced by deeper scars of calamity. As Miss Plin- 
 limmon wrote in her album — 
 
 " Few men so deep as Major Brooks 
 Have drained affliction's cup. 
 Alas ! if one may trust his looks, 
 I fear he's breaking up 1 " 
 
 This Miss Plinlimmon, a maiden aunt of the young 
 oflBcer who had been slain at Badajoz, kept house 
 for us after my sister's death. She was a lady of 
 good Welsh family, who after many years of genteel 
 poverty had come into a legacy of seven thousand 
 pounds from an East Indian uncle ; and my father — • 
 a simple liver, content with his half-pay — had much 
 ado in his blindness to keep watch and war upon the 
 luxuries she untiringly strove to smuggle upon him. 
 For the rest, Miss Plinlimmon wore corkscrew curls, 
 talked sentimentally, worshipped the manly form (in 
 the abstract) with the manly virtues, and possessed 
 (quite unknown to herself) the heart of a lion. 
 
 Upon this unsuspected courage, and upon the 
 strength of her affection for me, she had drawn on 
 the day when she stood up to my father — of whom,
 
 6 POISON ISLAND 
 
 by the way, slie was desperately afraid — and told him 
 that his neglect of me was a sin and a shame and a 
 scandal. "And a good education," she wound up 
 feebly, " would render Harry so much more of a com- 
 panion to you." 
 
 My father rubbed his head vaguely. "Yes, yes, 
 you are right. I have been neglecting the boy. But 
 pray end as honestly as you began, and do not pretend 
 to be consulting my future when you are really plead- 
 ing for his. To begin with, I don't want a companion ; 
 next, I should not immediately make a companion of 
 Harry by sending him away to school ; and, lastly, you 
 know as well as I, that long before he finished his 
 schooling I should be in my grave." 
 
 " Well, then, consider what a classical education 
 would do for Harry ! I feel sure that had I — pardon 
 tlie supposition — been born a man, and made con- 
 versant with the best thoughts of the ancients — 
 Socrates, for example " 
 
 " What about him ? " my father demanded. 
 
 " So wise, as I have always been given to under- 
 stand, yet in his own age misunderstood, by his wife 
 especially ! And, to crown all, unless I err, drowned 
 in a butt of hemlock ! " 
 
 " Dear madam, pardon me ; but how many of these 
 accidents to Socrates are you ascribing to his classical 
 education ? " 
 
 " But it comes out in so many ways," Miss 
 Plinlimmon persisted ; " and it does make such a 
 diflerence ! There's a je ne sais quoi. You can tell 
 it even in the way they handle a knife and fork ! "
 
 HOW I FIIIST MET WITH CAPTAIN COFFIN 7 
 
 That evening, after supper, Miss Plinlimmon de- 
 clined her customary game of cards with me, on the 
 pretence that she felt tired, and sat for a long while 
 fumbling with a newspaper, which I recognized for a 
 week-old copy of the Falmouth Packet. At length slie 
 rose abruptly, and, crossing over to the table where 
 I sat playing dominoes (right hand against left), thrust 
 the paper before me, and pointed with a trembling 
 finger. 
 
 " There, Harry ! What would you say to that ? " 
 I brushed my dominoes aside, and read — 
 « The Keverend Philip Stimcoe, B.A. (Oxon.), of 
 Copenhagen Academy, 7, Delamere Terrace, begs to 
 inform the Nobility, Clergy, and Gentry of Falmouth 
 and the neighbourhood that he has Vacancies for a 
 limited number of Pupils of good Social Standing, 
 Education classical, on the lines of the best Public 
 Schools, combined with Home Comforts under the 
 personal supervision of Mrs. Stimcoe (niece of the late 
 Hon. Sir Alexander O'Brien, E.N., Admiral of tho 
 White, and K.C.B.). Backward and delicate boys a 
 speciality. Separate beds. Commodious playground 
 in a climate unrivalled for pulmonary ailments. 
 Greenwich time kept." 
 
 I did not criticise the advertisement. It sufficed 
 me to read my release in it ; and in the same instant 
 I knew how lonely the last few months had been, 
 and felt myself an ingrate. I that had longed 
 unspeakably, if but half consciously, for the world 
 beyond Minden Cottage — a world in which I could 
 play the man — welcomed my liberty by laying my
 
 8 rOISON ISLAND 
 
 head on my arms and breaking into unmanly 
 sobs. 
 
 I will pass over a blissful week of preparation, 
 including a journey by van to Torpoint and by ferry 
 across to Plymouth, where Miss Plinlimmon bought 
 me boots, shirts, collars, under-garments, a valise, a 
 low-crowned beaver hat for Sunday wear, and for week- 
 days a cap shaped like a concertina; where I was 
 measured for two suits after a pattern marked " Boy's 
 Clarence, Gentlemanly," and where I expended two- 
 and-sixpence of my pocket-money on a piratical jack- 
 knife and a book of patriotic songs — two articles 
 indispensable, it seemed to me, to full-blooded man- 
 hood ; and I will come to the day when the Royal 
 Mail pulled up before Minden Cottage with a merry 
 clash of bits and swingle-bars, and, the scarlet-coated 
 guard having received my box from Sally the cook, 
 and hoisted it aboard in a jiffy, Miss Plinlimmon and 
 I climbed up to a seat behind the coachman. My 
 father stood at the door, and shook hands with me at 
 parting. 
 
 " Good luck, lad," said he ; " and remember our 
 motto : Nil nisi rede ! Good luck have thou witli 
 thine honour. And, by the way, here's half a sovereign 
 fur you." 
 
 '* Cl'k ! " from the coachman, shortening w^ his 
 enormous bunch of reins ; ta-ra-ra / from the guard's 
 horn close behind my ear ; and we were off ! 
 
 Oh, believe me, there never was such a ride ! As 
 we swept by the second milestone I stole a look at 
 Miss Plinlimmon. She sat in an ecstasy, with closed
 
 HOW a FIRST MET WITH CAPTAIN COFFIN 9 
 
 eyes. She was, as she put it, indulging in mental 
 composition. 
 
 Verses composed while Biding by tlie Royal Mail. 
 
 " I've sailed at eve o'er Plymouth Sound 
 (For me it vras a rare excursion)' 
 Oblivious of the risk of being drown'd, 
 Or even of a more temporary immersion. 
 
 " I dream'd myself the Lady of the Lake, 
 
 Or an Oriental one (within limits) on the Bosphorus ; 
 We left a trail of glory in our wake, 
 Which the intelligent boatman ascribed to phosphorus. 
 
 " Yet agreeable as I found it o'er the ocean 
 To glide within my bounding shallop, 
 I incline to think that for the poetry of motion 
 One may even more confidently recommend the Tantivy GaUop."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 I AM ENTERED AT COPENHAGEN ACADEMY 
 
 Agreeable, too, as I found it to be whirled between 
 the hedgerows behind five splendid horses ; to catch 
 the ostlers run out with the relays ; to receive blue 
 glimpses of the Channel to southward ; to dive across 
 dingles and past farm-gates under which the cocks and 
 hens flattened themselves in their haste to give us 
 room ; to gaze back over the luggage and along the 
 road, and assure myself that the rival coach (the Self- 
 Defence) was not overtaking us — yet Falmouth, when 
 we reached it, was best of all ; Falmouth, with its 
 narrow streets and crowd of sailors, postmen, 'long- 
 shoremen, porters with wheelbarrows, and passengers 
 hurrying to and from the packets, its smells of pitch 
 and oakum and canvas, its shops full of seamen's out- 
 fits and instruments and marine curiosities, its upper 
 windows where parrots screamed in cages, its alleys 
 and quay-doors giving peeps of the splendid harbour, 
 thronged — to quote Miss Plinlimmon again — " with 
 varieties of gallant craft, between which the trained 
 nautical eye may perchance distinguish, but mine 
 doesn't." 
 
 10
 
 I AM ENTERED AT COPENHAGEN ACADEMY 11 
 
 The residential part of Falmouth rises in neat 
 terraces above the waterside, and of these Delamere 
 Terrace was by no means the least resj^ectable. The 
 brass doorplate of No. 7 — '' Copenhagen Academy for 
 the Sons of Gentlemen. Principal, the Eev. Philip 
 8timcoe, B.A. (Oxon.)" — shone immaculate ; and its 
 window-blinds did Mrs. Stimcoe credit, as Miss 
 Plinlimmon remarked before ringing the bell. 
 
 Mrs. Stimcoe herself opened the door to us, in a 
 full lace cap and a maroon-coloured gown of state. She 
 was a gaunt, hard-eyed woman, tall as a grenadier, 
 remarkable for a long upper lip decorated with two 
 moles. She excused her condescension on the ground 
 that the butler was out, taking the pupils for a walk ; 
 and) conducted us to the parlour, where Mr. Stimcoe 
 sat in an atmosphere which smelt faintly of sherry. 
 
 Mr. Stimcoe rose and greeted us with a shaky 
 hand. He was a thin, spectacled man, with a pendulous 
 nose and cheeks disfigured by a purplish cutaneous 
 disorder (which his wife, later on, attributed to his 
 having slept between damp sheets while the honoured 
 guest of a nobleman, whose name I forget). He wore 
 a seedy clerical suit. 
 
 While shaking hands he observed that I was taller 
 than he had expected ; and this, absurdly enough, is 
 all I remember of the interview, except that the room 
 had two empty bookcases, one on either side of the 
 chimney-breast; that the fading of the wallpaper 
 above the mantelpiece had left a patch recording 
 where a clock had lately stood (I conjectured that it 
 must be at Greenwich, undergoing repairs) ; that Mrs.
 
 12 rOISON ISLAND 
 
 Stimcoe produced a decanter of sherry — a wine which. 
 Miss Plinlimmon abominated — and poured her out a 
 glassful, with the remark that it had been twice round 
 the world; that Miss Plinlimmon supposed vaguely 
 "the same happened to a lot of things in a seaport 
 like Falmouth ; " and that somehow this led us on to 
 Mr. Stimcoe's delicate health, and this again to the 
 subject of damp sheets, and this finally to Mrs. 
 Stimcoe's suggesting that Miss Plinlimmon might 
 perhaps like to have a look at my bedroom. 
 
 The bedroom assigned to me opened out of Mrs. 
 Stimcoe's own. (" It will give him a sense of protec- 
 tion. A child feels the first few^ nights away from 
 home.") Though small, it was neat, and, for a boy's 
 wants, amply furnished ; nay, it contained at least one 
 article of supererogation, in the shape of a razor-case 
 on the dressing-table. Mrs. Stimcoe swept this into 
 her pocket with a turn of the hand, and explained 
 frankly that her husband, like most scholars, was 
 absent-minded. Here she passed two fingers slowly 
 across her forehead. " Even in his walks, or while 
 dressing, his brain wanders among the deathless com- 
 positions of Greece and Piome, turning them into 
 English metres — all cakes especially " — she must have 
 meant alcaics — "and that makes him leave things 
 about." 
 
 I had fresh and even more remarkable evidence of 
 Mr. Stimcoe's absent-mindedness two minutes later, 
 when, the sheets having been duly inspected, we 
 descended to the parlour again ; for, happening to 
 reach the doorway some paces ahead of the two ladies.
 
 I AM ENTERED AT COPENHAGEN ACADEMY 13 
 
 I surprised him in the act of drinking down Miss 
 Plinlimmon's sherry. 
 
 The interview was scarcely resumed before a 
 mortuary silence fell on the room, and I became aware 
 that somehow my presence impeded the discussion of 
 business. 
 
 " I think perhaps that Harry would like to run out 
 upon the terrace and see the view from his new home," 
 suggested Mrs. Stimcoe, with obvious tact. 
 
 I escaped, and went in search of the commodious 
 playground, which I supposed to lie in the rear of the 
 house ; but, reaching a back yard, I suddenly found 
 myself face to face with three small boys, one stagger- 
 ing with the weight of a pail, the two others bearing 
 a full washtub between them ; and with surprise saw 
 them set down their burdens at a distance and come 
 tip-toeing towards me in a single file, with theatrical 
 gestures of secrecy. 
 
 ''Hallo! "said I. 
 
 " Hist ! Be dark as the grave ! " answered the 
 leader, in a stage-whisper. He was a freckly, narrow- 
 chested child, and needed washing. " You're the new 
 boy," he announced, as though he had tracked me 
 down in that criminal secret. 
 
 " Yes," I owned. " Who are you ? " 
 
 " We are the Blood-stained Brotherhood of the 
 Pampas, now upon the trail ! " 
 
 " Look here," said I, staring down at him, "that's 
 nonsense ! " 
 
 " Oh, very well," he answered promptly ; " then 
 we're the ' Backward Sons of Gentlemen' — that's down
 
 14 rOISON ISLAND 
 
 in the prospectus — and we're fetcliiug water for 
 Mother Stimcoe, because the turncock cut off the 
 company's water this morning ! See ? But you won't 
 blow the gaff on the old girl, will you ? " 
 
 " Are you all there is, you three ? " I asked, after 
 considering them a moment. 
 
 " We're all the boarders. My name's Ted Bates 
 — they call me Doggy Bates — and my father's a 
 captain out in India; and these are Bob Pilkington 
 and Scotty Maclean. You may call him Kedhead, 
 being too big to punch; and, talking of that, you'll 
 have to fight Bully Stokes." 
 
 " Is he a day-boy ? " I asked. 
 
 " He's cock of Rogerses up the hill, and he wants 
 it badly. Stimcoes and Eogerses are hated rivals. 
 If you can whack Bully Stokes for us " 
 
 " But Mrs. Stimcoe told me that you were taking 
 a walk with the butler," I interrupted. 
 
 Master Bates winked. 
 
 " Would you like to see him ? " 
 
 He beckoned me to an open window, and we gazed 
 through it upon a bare back kitchen, and upon an 
 extremely corpulent man in an armchair, slumbering, 
 with a yellow bandanna handkerchief over his head 
 to protect it from the flies. Master Bates whipped 
 out a pea-shooter, and blew a pea on to the exposed 
 lobe of the sleeper's ear. 
 
 " D n ! " roared the corpulent one, leaping up 
 
 in wrath. But we were in hiding behind the yard- 
 wall almost before he could pull the bandanna from 
 his face.
 
 I AM ENTERED AT COPENHAGEN ACADEMY 15 
 
 " He's the bailiff," explained Master Bates. " He's 
 in possession. Oh, you'll get quite friendly with him 
 in time. Down in the town they call him Mother 
 Stimcoe's lodger, he comes so often. But, I say, 
 don't go and blow the gaff on the old girl." 
 
 On our way to the coach-office that evening I 
 felt— as the saying is — my heart in my mouth. Miss 
 Plinlimmon spoke sympathetically of Mr. Stimcoe's 
 state of health, and with delicacy of his absent- 
 mindedness, " so natural in a scholar." I discovered 
 long afterwards that Mr. Stimcoe, having retired to 
 cash a note for her, had brought back a strong smell 
 of brandy and eighteenpence less than the strict 
 amount of her change. I knew in my heart that 
 my new schoolmaster and his wife were a pair of 
 frauds, and yet I choked down the impulse to speak. 
 Perhaps Master Bates's loyalty kept me on my 
 mettle. 
 
 The dear soul and I bade one another farewell, 
 she not without tears. The coach bore her away ; 
 and I walked back through the crowded streets with 
 my spirits down in my boots, and my fists thrust deep 
 into the pockets of my small-clothes. 
 
 In this dejected mood I reached the Market 
 Strand just as Captain Coffin came up it from the 
 Plume of Feathers public-house, cursing and striking 
 out with his stick at a mob of small boys.
 
 CHAPTEB III 
 
 A STREET FIGHT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT 
 
 He emerged upon the street which crosses the head 
 of Market Strand, and, dropping his arms, stood for 
 a moment as if in doubt of his bearings. He was 
 flagrantly drunk, but not aggressively. He reminded 
 me of a purblind owl that, blundering into daylight, 
 is set upon and mobbed by a crowd of small birds. 
 
 The 'longshoremen and loafers grinned and winked 
 at one another, but forbore to interfere. Plainly the 
 spectacle was a familiar one. 
 
 The man was not altogether repulsive ; pitiable, 
 rather; a small, lean fellow, with a grey-white face 
 drawn into wrinkles about the jaw, and eyes that 
 wandered timidly. He wore a suit of good sea-cloth 
 — soiled, indeed, but neither ragged nor threadbare — 
 and a blue and yellow spotted neckerchief, the bow 
 of which had worked around towards his right ear. 
 His hat, perched a-cock over his left eye, had made 
 acquaintance with the tavern sawdust. Next to his 
 drunkenness, perhaps, the most remarkable thing about 
 him was his stick — of ebony, very curiously carved in 
 rings from knob to ferrule, where it ended in an iron 
 
 16
 
 A STREET FIGHT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT 17 
 
 spike ; an ugly weapon, of which his tormentors stood 
 in dread, and small blame to them. 
 
 While he stood hesitating, they swarmed close 
 and began to bay him afresh. 
 
 " Captain Cofiin, Captain CoflSn ! " " Who killed 
 the Portugee ? " " Who hid the treasure and got so 
 drunk he couldn't find it ? " " Where's your ship, 
 Cap'n Danny ? " These were some of the taunts 
 flung ; and as the urchins danced about him, yelling 
 them, the passion blazed up again in his red-rimmed 
 eyes. 
 
 Amongst the crowd capered Ted Bates. 
 
 " Hallo, Brooks ! " he shouted, and, catching at 
 another boy's elbow, pointed towards me. Beyond 
 noting that the other boy had a bullet-shaped head 
 with ears that stood out from it at something like 
 right angles, I had time to take very little stock of 
 him ; for just then, as Captain Coffin turned about to 
 smite, a stone came flying and struck him smartly on 
 the funny-bone. His hand opened with the pain of 
 it, but the stick hung by a loop to his wrist, and, 
 gripping it again, he charged among his tormentors, 
 lashing out to right and left. 
 
 So savagely he charged that I looked for nothing 
 short of murder ; and just then, while I stood at gaze, 
 a boy stepped up to me — the same that Ted Bates 
 had plucked by the arm. 
 
 " Look here ! " said he, frowning, with his legs 
 a-straddle. *' Doggy Bates tells me that you 
 told him you could whaek me with one hand behind 
 you." 
 
 c
 
 18 POISON ISLAND 
 
 I replied that I had told Doggy Bates nothing of 
 tlie sort. 
 
 "That's all right," said he. "Then you take it 
 back?" 
 
 He had the air of one sure of his logic, but his 
 under lip — not to mention his ears — protruded in a 
 way that struck me as oftensive, and I replied — 
 ' " That depends." 
 
 "My name's Stokes," said he, still in the same 
 reasonable tone. " And you'll have to take coward's 
 blow." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " said I. 
 
 "It's the rule," said he, and gave it me with a 
 light, back-handed smack across the bridge of the 
 nose ; whereupon I hit him on the point of the chin, 
 and, unconsciously imitating Captain Coffin's method 
 of charging a crowd, lowered my head and butted 
 him violently in the stomach. 
 
 I make no doubt that my brain was tired and 
 giddy with the day's experiences, but to this moment 
 I cannot understand why we two suddenly found our- 
 selves the focus of interest in a crowd which had 
 wasted none on Captain Coffin. 
 
 But so it was. In less time than it takes to write, 
 a ring surrounded us — a ring of men staring and offer- 
 ing bets. The lamp at the street-corner shone on 
 their faces ; and close under the light of it Master 
 fStokes and I were hammering one another. 
 
 We were fighting by rule, too. Some one — I can- 
 not say who — had taken up the affair, and was impos- 
 ing the right ceremonial upon us. It may have
 
 A STREET FIGHT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT 19 
 
 been the cheerful, blue-jerseyed Irishman, to whose 
 knee I returned at the end of each round to be 
 freshened up around the face and neck with a drip- 
 ping boat-sponge. He had an extraordinarily wide 
 mouth, and it kept speaking encouragement and good 
 advice to me. I feel sure he was a good fellow, but 
 have never set eyes on him from that hour to 
 this. 
 
 Bully Stokes and I must have fought a good many 
 rounds, for towards the end we were both panting hard, 
 and our hands hung on every blow. But I remember 
 yet more vividly the strangeness of it all, and the 
 uncanny sensation that the fight itself, the street- 
 lamp, the crowd, and the dim houses around were 
 unreal as a dream : that, and the unnatural hardness 
 of my opponent's face, which seemed the one un- 
 malleable part of him. 
 
 A dreadful thought possessed me that if he could 
 only contrive to hit me with his face all would be over. 
 My own was badly pounded; for we fought — or, at 
 any rate, I fought — without the smallest science ; it 
 was blow for blow, plain give-and-take, from the start. 
 But what distressed me was the extreme tenderness of 
 my knuckles ; and what chiefly irritated me was the 
 behaviour of Doggy Bates, dancing about and scream- 
 ing, " Go it, Stimcoes ! Stimcoes for ever ! " Five 
 times the onlookers flung him out by the scruff of his 
 neck; and five times he worked himself back, and 
 screamed it between their legs. 
 
 In the end this enthusiasm proved the undoing of 
 all his delight. Towards the end of an intolerably
 
 20 rOISON ISLAND 
 
 long round, finding that my arms began to hang like 
 lead, I had rushed in and closed ; and the two of us 
 went to ground together. Then I lay panting, and 
 my opponent under me — the pair of us too weary 
 for the moment to strike a blow ; and then, as breath 
 came back, I was aware of a sudden hush in the din. 
 A hand took me by the shirt-collar, dragged me to 
 my feet, and swung me round, and I stared, blinking, 
 into the face of Mr. Stimcoe. 
 
 " Dishgrashful ! " said Mr. Stimcoe. He was 
 accompanied by a constable, to whom he appealed for 
 confirmation, pointing to my face. " Left immy 
 charge only this evening. Perf ly dishgrashful ! " 
 
 " Boys will be boys, sir," said the constable. 
 
 "M' good fellow" — Mr. Stimcoe comprehended 
 the crowd with an unsteady wave of his hand — " that 
 don't 'pply 'case of men. Ne tu pu'ri tempsherish 
 annosh : tha's Juvenal." 
 
 " Then my advice is, sir — take the boy home and 
 give him a wash." 
 
 " He can't," came a taunting voice from the 
 crowd. " 'Cos why ? The company 've cut off his 
 water." 
 
 Mr. Stimcoe gazed around in sorrow rather than 
 in anger. He cleared his throat for a public speech ; 
 but was forestalled by the constable's dispersing 
 the throng with a " Clear along, now, like good 
 fellows ! " 
 
 The wide-mouthed man helped me into my jacket, 
 shook hands with me, and said I had no science, but 
 the devil's own pluck-and-lights. Then he, too, faded
 
 A STREET FIGHT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT 21 
 
 away into the night ; and I found myself alongside of 
 Doggy Bates, marching up the street after Mr. Stimcoe, 
 who declaimed, as he went, upon the vulgarity of 
 street-fighting. 
 
 By-and-by it became apparent that in the soothing 
 flow of his own eloquence he had forgotten us ; and 
 Doggy Bates, who understood his preceptor's habits to 
 a hair, checked me with a knowing squeeze of tlie 
 arm, and began, of set purpose, to lag in his steps. 
 Mr. Stimcoe strode on, still audibly denouncing and 
 exhorting. 
 
 " It was all my fault ! " Master Bates pulled up 
 and studied my mauled face by the light of a street- 
 lamp. " The beggar heard me shouting his own name, 
 silly fool that I was ! " 
 
 I begged him not to be distressed on my 
 account. 
 
 " What's the use of half a fight ? " he groaned 
 again. "My word, though, won't Stimcoe catch it 
 from the missus ! She sent him out to get change 
 for your aunt's notes — 'fees payable in advance.' 
 I know the game — to pay off the bailey ; and 
 he's been soaking in a public-house ever since. 
 Hallo ! " 
 
 We turned together at the sound of foot- 
 steps approaching after us up the street. They 
 broke into a run, then appeared to falter ; and, 
 peering into the dark interval between us and 
 the next lamp, I discerned Captain Coffin. He 
 had come to a halt, and stood there mysteriously 
 beckoning.
 
 22 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " You— I want you ! " he called huskily. " Not 
 the other boy ! You ! " 
 
 I obeyed, having a reputation to keep up in the 
 eyes of Doggy Bates ; but my courage was oozing as 
 I walked towards the old man, and I came to a sudden 
 stop about five yards from him. 
 
 " Closer ! " he beckoned. " Good boy, don't be 
 afraid. What's your name, good boy ? " 
 
 " Harry Brooks, sir." 
 
 " Call me * sir,' do you ? Well, and you're right. 
 I could ride in my coach-and-six if I chose ; and some 
 day you may see it. How would you like to ride in 
 your coach-and-six, Harry Brooks ? " 
 
 "I should like it finely, sir," said I, humouring 
 him. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I'll wager you would. Well, now — 
 come closer. Mum's the word, eh ? I like you, Harry 
 Brooks; and the boys in this town" — he broke off 
 and cursed horribly — " they're not fit to carry slops 
 to a bear, not one of 'em. But you're different. And, 
 see here : any time you're in trouble, just pay a 
 call on me. Understand ? Mind you, I make no 
 promises." Here, to my exceeding fright, he reached 
 out a hand, and, clutching me by the arm, drew me 
 close, so that his breath poured hot on my ear, and 
 I sickened at its reek of brandy. " It's money, boy — 
 money, I tell you ! " 
 
 He dropped my arm, and, falling back a pace, 
 looked nervously about him. 
 
 " Between you and me and the gatepost, eh ? " he 
 asked.
 
 A STREET FIGHT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT 23 
 
 His hand went down and tapped his pocket slily, 
 and with that he turned and shuffled away down 
 the street. I stared after him into the foggy dark- 
 ness, listening to the tap of his stick upon the 
 cobbles.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN STUDIES NAVIGATION 
 
 Events soon to be narrated made my sojourn in 
 tutelage of Mr. Stimcoe a brief one, and I will 
 pass it lightly over. 
 
 The school consisted of four boarders and six back- 
 ward sons of gentlemen resident in the town, and 
 assembled daily in a large outhouse furnished with 
 desks of a peculiar pattern, known to us as " scobs." 
 Mr. Stimcoe, who had received his education as a 
 " querister " at Winchester (and afterwards as a 
 " servitor " at Pembroke College, Oxford), habitually 
 employed and taught us to employ the esoteric slang 
 — or " notions," as he called it — of that great public 
 school ; so that in " preces," " morning lines," " book- 
 chambers," and what-not we had the names if not the 
 things, and a vague and quite illusory sense of high 
 connection, on the strength of which, and of our 
 freedom from what Mrs. Stimcoe called "the com- 
 mercial taint," we made bold to despise the more 
 prosperous Eogerses up the hill. 
 
 Upon commerce in the concrete — that is to say, 
 2i
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN STUDIES NAVIGATION 25 
 
 upon the butchers, bakers, and other honest tradesmen 
 of Falmouth — Mrs. Stimcoe waged a predatory war, 
 and waged it without quarter. She had a genius 
 for opening accounts, and something more than genius 
 for keeping her creditors at bay. She never wheedled 
 nor begged them for time ; she never compromised 
 nor parleyed, nor condescended to yield an inch 
 to their claims for decent human treatment. She 
 relied simply upon browbeating and the efficacy of 
 the straight-spoken lie. A more dauntless, unblushing, 
 majestic liar never stood up in petticoats. 
 
 She was a byword in Falmouth ; yet, strange to 
 say, her victims kept a sneaking fondness for her, 
 a soft spot in their hearts; while as sporting on- 
 lookers we boys took something like a fearful pride 
 in the Warrior, as we called her. It was not in 
 her nature to encourage any such weakness, or to 
 use it. She would not have thanked us for it. 
 But we had this amount of excuse : that she fed 
 us liberally when she could browbeat the butcher; 
 and if at times we went short, she shared our priva- 
 tion. Also, there must have been some good in 
 the woman, to stand so unflinchingly by Stimcoe. 
 Stimcoe's books had gone into storage at the pawn- 
 broker's ; but in his bare " study," where he heard 
 our construing of Ctesar and Homer, stood a screen, 
 and behind it an eighteen-gallon cask. A green 
 baize tablecloth covered the cask from sight, and 
 partially mufiled the sound of its running tap when 
 Stimcoe withdrew behind the screen, to consult (as 
 he put it) his lexicon.
 
 2G POISON ISLAND 
 
 His one assistant, who figured in the prospectus as 
 *' Teacher of English, the Mathematics, and Naviga- 
 tion," was a retired packet-captain, Branscome by 
 name, but known among us as Captain Gamey, by 
 reason of an injured leg. He had taken the hurt — a 
 splintered hip-bone — while fighting his ship against a 
 French privateer off Guadeloupe, and it had retired him 
 from the service of my lords the Postmaster-General 
 upon a very small pension, and with a sword of honour 
 subscribed for by the merchants of the City of London, 
 whose mails he had gallantly saved. These resources 
 being barely sufficient to maintain him, still less to 
 permit his helping a widowed sister whom he had 
 partly maintained during his days of service, he eked 
 them out by schoolmastering ; and a dreadful trade he 
 must have found it. In person he was slight and 
 wiry, of a clear, ruddy comj)lexion, with grey hair, 
 and a grave simplicity of manner. He wore a tightly 
 buttoned, blue uniform coat, threadbare and frayed, 
 but scrupulously brushed, noticeably clean linen, and 
 white duck trousers in all weathers. He walked with 
 the support of a malacca cane, dragging his wounded 
 leg after him ; and had a trick of talking to himself 
 as he went. 
 
 I need scarcely say that we mimicked him ; but in 
 school he kept far better discipline than Stimcoe, for, 
 with all his oddity, we knew him to be a brave man. 
 Such mathematics as we needed he taught capably 
 enough and very patiently. The " navigation," so far 
 as we were concerned, was a mere flourish of the 
 prospectus; and his qualifications as a teacher of
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN STUDIES NAVIGATION 27 
 
 English began and ended with an enthusiasm for Dr. 
 Johnson's " Easselas." 
 
 Such was Captain Branscome : and, such as he was, 
 he kept the school running on days when Stimcoe was 
 merely drunk and incapable. He ever treated Mrs. 
 Stimcoe with the finest courtesy, and, alone among 
 her creditors, was rewarded with that lady's respect. 
 
 I knew, to be sure — we all knew — that she must 
 be in arrears with Captain Branscome's pay ; but we 
 were unprepared for the morning when, on the stroke 
 of the church clock — our Greenwich time — he walked 
 up to the door, resolutely handed Mrs. Stimcoe a letter, 
 and as resolutely walked away again. Stimcoe had 
 been maudlin drunk for a week and could not appear. 
 His wife heroically stepped into the breach, and gave 
 us (as a geography lesson) some account of her uncle 
 the admiral and his career— "distinguished, but 
 wandering," as she summarized it. 
 
 I remember little of this lesson, save that it dis- 
 pensed — wisely, no doubt — with the use of the terres- 
 trial globe ; that it included a description of the 
 admiral's country seat in Eoscommon, and an account 
 of a ball given by him to celebrate Mrs. Stimcoe's 
 arrival at marriageable age, with a list of the nota- 
 bilities assembled ; and that it ended in her rapping 
 Doggy Bates over the head with a ruler, for biting his 
 nails. From that moment anarchy reigned. 
 
 It reigned for a week. I have wondered since how 
 our six day-boys managed to refrain from carrying 
 home a tale which must have brought their parents 
 down upon us en masse. Great is schoolboy honour
 
 28 POISON ISLAND 
 
 — great, and more than a trifle quaint. In any case, 
 the parents must have been singularly unobservant or 
 singularly slow to reason upon what they observed ; 
 for we sent their backward sons home to them each 
 night in a mask of ink. 
 
 Saturday came, and brought the usual half-holiday. 
 We boarders celebrated it by a raid upon the back yard 
 of Kogerses — Bully Stokes being temporarily in- 
 capacitated by chicken-pox— and possessed ourselves, 
 after a gallant fight, of Kogerses' football. Superior 
 numbers drove us^back to our own door, where — at the 
 invocation 'of all the householders along Delamere 
 Terrace — the constable intervened ; but we retained 
 the spoil. 
 
 At the shut of dusk, as we kicked the football in 
 triumph about our own back yard, Mrs. Stimcoe 
 sought me out with a letter to be conveyed to Captain 
 Branscome. I took it and ran. 
 
 The lamplighter, going his rounds, met me at the 
 corner of Killigrew Street and directed me to the alley 
 in which the captain's lodgings lay. The alley was 
 dark, but a little within the entrance my eyes caught 
 the glimmer of a highly polished brass door-knocker, 
 and upon this I rapped at a venture. 
 
 Captain Branscome opened to me. The house had 
 no passage. Its front door opened directly upon a 
 whitewashed room, with a round table in the centre, 
 covered with charts. On the table, too, stood a lamp, 
 the light of which dazzled me for a moment. On the 
 walls hung the captain's sword of honour (above the 
 mantelpiece), a couple of bookshelves, well stored, and
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN STUDIES NAVIGATION 29 
 
 a panel with a ship upon it— a brig in full sail — 
 carved in high relief and painted. My eyes, however, 
 were not for these, but for a man who sat at the table, 
 poring over the charts, and lifted his head nervously 
 to blink at me. It was Captain Coffin. 
 
 While I stared at him Captain Brauscome took 
 the letter from me. It contained some pieces of 
 silver, as I knew from its weight and the feel of it — 
 five shillings, as I judged, or perhaps seven-and-six- 
 pence. As his hand weighed it I saw a sudden relief 
 on his face, and realized how grey and pinched it had 
 been when he opened the door to me. 
 
 He peised the envelope in his hand for a moment, 
 then broke the seal very deliberately, took out the 
 coins, and, as if weighing them in' his palm, turned 
 back to the table and laid Mrs. Stimcoe's letter close 
 under the lamp while he searched for his gold-rimmed 
 spectacles. 
 
 (There was a tradition at Stimcoe's, by the way, 
 that the London merchants, finding a small surplus 
 of subscriptions in hand after purchasing the sword 
 of honour, had presented him with these spectacles 
 as a make-weight, and that he valued them no 
 less.) 
 
 "Brooks," said he, laying down the letter and 
 pushing the spectacles high on his forehead while he 
 gazed at me, " I want to ask you a question in confi- 
 dence. Had Mrs. Stimcoe any difficulty in finding 
 this money ? " 
 
 " Well, sir," said I, " I oughtn't perhaps to know 
 it, but she pawned Stim — Mr. Stimcoe's Cicero this
 
 30 POISON ISLAND 
 
 morning, the six volumes with a sliield on the covers, 
 that he got as a prize at Oxford." 
 
 " Good Lord ! " said Captain Branscome, slowly. 
 As if in absence of mind, he stepped to a side-cupboard 
 and looked within. It was bare but for a plate and 
 an apple. lie took up the apple, and was about to 
 offer it to me, but set it back slowly on the plate, and 
 locked the cupboard again. " Good Lord ! " he re- 
 peated quietly, and, linking his hands under his coat- 
 tails, strode twice backwards and forwards across the 
 room. 
 
 Captain Coffin looked up from his charts and 
 stared at him, and I, too, stared, waiting in the semi- 
 darkness beyond the lamp's circle. 
 
 " Good Lord ! " said Captain Branscome for the 
 third time. " And it's Saturday, too ! You'll excuse 
 me a moment." 
 
 With that he caught up the letter, and made a 
 dart up the wooden staircase, which led straight from 
 a corner of the room through a square hole in the 
 ceiling to his upper chamber. 
 
 *'' Money again ! " said Captain Coffin, turning his 
 eyes upon me and blinking. " Nothing like money ! " 
 
 " He picked up a pair of compasses, spread them 
 out on the paper of figures before him, and looked up 
 again with a sly, silly smile. 
 
 " You won't guess what I'm doing ? " he challenged, 
 
 "No." 
 
 "I'm studyin' navigation. Cap'n Branscome's 
 larnin' it to me. Some people has luck an' some has 
 heads ; an' with a head on my shoulders same as I
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN STUDIES NAVIGATION 31 
 
 had at your age, I'd be Prime Minister an' Lord Mayor 
 of Lunnon rolled into one, by crum ! " He reached 
 across for Captain Branscome's sextant, and held it 
 between his shaking hands. " He can do it ; hundreds 
 o' men — thick-headed men in the ord'nary way — can 
 do it; take a vessel out o' Falmouth here, as you 
 might say, and hold her 'crost the Atlantic,' as you 
 might put it ; whip her along for thirty days, we'll 
 say ; an' then, * To-morrow, uf the wind holds, an' 
 about six in the mornin',' they'll say, ' there'll be an 
 island with a two-three palm-trees on a hill an' a spit 
 o' sand bearing ^nor'-by-west. Bring 'em in line,' 
 they'll say, *an' then you may fetch my shaving- 
 water' — and all the while no more'n ordinary men, 
 same as you and me. Whereby I allow it must come 
 in time, though my head don't seem to get no grip 
 on it." 
 
 Captain Coffin stared for a moment at a sheet of 
 paper on which he had been scribbling figures, and 
 passed it over to me, with a sigh. 
 
 " There ! What d'you make of it ? " 
 
 At a glance I saw that nothing could be made of 
 it. The figures crossed one another, and ran askew ; 
 here and there they trailed off into mere illegibility. 
 In the left-hand bottom corner I saw a 3 set under 
 a 10, and beneath it the result — 17 — underlined, 
 which, as a sum, left much to be desired, whether you 
 took it in addition, subtraction, multiplication, or 
 division. 
 
 "And yet," he went on plaintively, "there's 
 hundreds can do it— even ord'nary men."
 
 32 POISON ISLAND 
 
 He readied out a hand and gripped me by the 
 elbow ; and again his brandy-laden breath sickened 
 me as he drew me close. 
 
 "S'pose, now, you was to do this for me? You 
 could^ you know. And there's money in it — lashin's 
 o' money ! " 
 
 He winked at me, glanced around the room, and 
 with an indescribable air of slyness dived a hand 
 into his breast-pocket. 
 
 " It's here," he nodded, drawing out a small parcel 
 wrapped about in what at first glance appeared to 
 me an oilskin bag, tied about the neck with a tarry 
 string. "Here. And enough to set you an' me up 
 for life." His fingers fumbled with the strinfr for 
 two or three seconds, but presently faltered. " You 
 come to me to-morrow," he went on, with another 
 mysterious wink, "and I'll show you something. Up 
 the hill, past Market Strand, till you come to a 
 signboard, * Gr. Goodfellow. Funerals Furnished '—first 
 turning to the right do^\•n the court, and knock three 
 times." 
 
 Here he whipped the parcel back into his pocket, 
 picked up his compasses, and made transparent pre- 
 tence to be occupied in measuring distances as 
 Captain Branscome came down the stairs from the 
 garret. 
 
 Captain Branscome gave no sign of observing his 
 confusion, but signalled to me to step outside with 
 him into the alley, where he pressed an envelope 
 into my hand. By the weight of it, I knew on the 
 instant that he was returning Mrs. Stimcoe's money.
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN STUDIES NAVIGATION 33 
 
 '* And tell her," said he, " that I will come on 
 Monday morning at nine o'clock as usual." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 I turned to go. I could not see his face in the 
 gloom of the alley, but I had caught one glimpse of 
 it by the lamplight within, and knew what had 
 detained him upstairs. Honest man, he was starving, 
 and had been praying up there to be delivered from 
 temptation 
 
 "Brooks," said he, as I turned, "they tell me 
 your father was once a major in the Army. Is he, 
 by chance, the same Major Brooks — Major James 
 Brooks, of the King's Own — I had the honour to 
 bring home in the Londonderrij, after Corunna ? " 
 
 " That must have been my father, sir." 
 
 "A good man and a brave one. I am glad to 
 hear he is recovered." 
 
 I told him in a word or two of my father's health 
 and of his blindness. 
 
 " And he lives not far from here ? " I remem- 
 bered afterwards that his voice shook upon the 
 question. 
 
 I described Minden Cottage and its position on 
 the road towards Plymouth. He cut me short 
 hurriedly, and remarked, with a nervous laugh, that 
 he must be getting back to his pupil. Whereat 
 I, too, laughed. 
 
 " Do you think it wrong of me, boy ? " he asked 
 abruptly. 
 
 "Wrong, sir?" 
 
 " He insists upon coming ; and he pays me. He 
 
 D
 
 34 POISON ISLAND 
 
 will never learn anything. By the way, Brooks, I 
 have been inhospitable. An apple, for instance ? " 
 
 I declared untruthfully that I never ate apples ; 
 and perhaps the lie was pardonable, since by it I 
 escaped eating Captain Branscome's Sunday dinner.
 
 CHAPTEE Y 
 
 THE WHALEBOAT 
 
 A barber's pole protruded beside the ope leading 
 to Captain Coffin's lodgings. It was painted in 
 spirals of scarlet and blue, and at the end of it a 
 cage containing a grey parrot dangled over the 
 footway. 
 
 " Drunk again ! " screamed the parrot, as I 
 hesitated before the entrance, for the directing- 
 marks just here were so numerous as to be per- 
 plexing. To the right of the alley the barber had 
 affixed his signboard, close above the base of his 
 pole ; to the left a flanking slopshop dangled a row 
 of cast-off suits, while immediately overhead was 
 nailed a board painted over with ornate flourishes 
 and the legend — 
 
 " Gr. Goodfellow. Carpenter and House-Decorator, 
 &c. Kepairs Neatly Executed. Instruction in the 
 Violin. Funerals at the Shortest Notice. Shipping 
 Supplied." 
 
 " Drunk again ! " repeated the parrot. " Kiss me, 
 kiss me, kiss me, kiss me ! Oh, you nasty image ! 
 Kiss me, kiss me ! Who killed the Portugee ? " 
 
 35
 
 36 POISON ISLAND 
 
 "He dou't mean you," explained the barber, 
 reassuringly, emerging at that moment from his 
 shop with a pannikin of water for the parrot's cage, 
 which he lowered very deftly by means of a halliard 
 reeved through a block at the end of the pole. 
 " He means old Coffin. Nice bird, hey ? " 
 
 He slipped a hand through the cage-door, and 
 caressed him, scratching his head. 
 
 " If you please, sir," said I, " it's Captain Coffin 
 I'm looking for." 
 
 " Drunk again ! " screamed the bird. " Damn my 
 giblets, drunk again ! " 
 
 " He don't like Coffin, and that's a fact," said the 
 barber. 
 
 " He don't appear to, sir," I agreed. 
 
 " You'll find the old fellow down the yard. That 
 is, if you really want him." The barber eyed me 
 doubtfully. " He's sober enough, just now ; been 
 swearin' off liquor for a week. I dare say you know 
 his temper's uncertain at such times." 
 
 I did not know it, but was too far committed 
 to retreat. 
 
 " Well, you'll find him down the yard — green 
 door to the right, with the brass knocker. He's 
 out at the back, hammering at his ship, but he'll 
 hear yuu fast enough : he's wonderful quick of 
 hearing." 
 
 A man, even though he possessed a solid brass 
 knocker, had need to be quick of hearing in that 
 alley. Without, street-hawkers were bawling and 
 carts rattling on the cobbled thoroughfare ; from
 
 THE WHALEBOAT 37 
 
 the entrance the parrot vociferated after me as I 
 went down the passage beneath an open window 
 whence an invisible violin repeated the opening 
 phrase of " Come, cheer up, my lads ! " plaintively 
 and persistently ; while from the far end, somewhere 
 between it and the harbour side, an irregular ham- 
 mering punctuated the music. 
 
 I knocked, and the hammering ceased. The rest 
 of the din ceased not, nor abated. In about a minute 
 the green door opened — a cautious inch or two at 
 first, then wide enough to reveal Captain Coffin. He 
 wore a dirty white jumper over his upper garments, 
 and held a formidable mallet. I observed that either 
 his face was unnaturally white or the rims of his 
 eyes were unnaturally red, and that sawdust be- 
 sprinkled his hair and collar. I recalled the tavern 
 sawdust which had bepowdered his hat on the night 
 of our first meeting, and jumped to a wrong con- 
 clusion. 
 
 "Eh? It's Brooks— the boy Brooks! Glad to 
 see you. Brooks ! Come inside." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said I, feeling a strong impulse 
 to bolt as he shook me by the hand, so hot was his 
 and so dry, and so feverishly it gripped me. 
 
 " You're sure no one tracked ye here ? " he asked, 
 as he closed the door behind us. 
 
 " There was a barber, sir, at the head of the 
 passage. I stopped to ask him the way." 
 
 " He's all right, or would be but for that cursed 
 
 bird of his. How a man can keep such a bird " 
 
 Captain Coffin broke off. " I had a two-three nails
 
 38 POISON ISLAND 
 
 ill my mouth when you kuocked. Nearly made me 
 swallow 'em, you did. They was copper uails, too." 
 
 I suppose I must have stared at this, for he paused 
 and peered at me, drawing me over to the window, 
 through which — so thickly grimed it was— a very 
 little light dribbled from the courtyard into the room. 
 Yet the room itself was clean, almost spick and span, 
 with a seaman-like tidiness in all its arrangements — 
 a small room, crowded with foreign odds-and-ends, 
 among which I remember a walking-stick even more 
 singular than the one Captain Coffin carried on his 
 walks abroad (it was white in colour, with lines of 
 small grey indentations, and he afterwards told me it 
 was a shark's backbone) ; a corner-cupboard, too, 
 painted over with green-and- yellow tulips, 
 
 " Copper nails, I tell you. Nothing but the best'U 
 do for your friend Coffin." He leaned back, still 
 eyeing me, and tapped me twice on the chest. " You 
 heard me say that ? ' Your friend ' was my words." 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 " But you made me jump, you did — me being that 
 way given when off the liquor." He hesitated a 
 moment, with a glance over his shoulder at the tulip- 
 painted cupboard. " Brooks," he went on earnestly, 
 " you and me being met on a matter of business, 
 and the same needin' steadiness — head and hand, my 
 boy, if ever business did — what d'ye say to a tot of 
 rum apiece ? " 
 
 Without waiting for my answer, he hol)bled oflf 
 to the cupboard, and had set two glasses on the table 
 and brimmed them with neat spirit before I had
 
 THE WHALEBOAT 39 
 
 finished protesting. The bottle neck trembled on the 
 rims of the glasses and struck out a sort of chime as 
 he paused. 
 
 " You won't ? " he asked, gulping down his own 
 portion ; and the liquor must have been potent, for 
 it brought a sudden water to his eyes. " Well, so be 
 it— if you've kept off it at your age. But at mine " — 
 he drauk off the second glassful and wiped his mouth 
 — "I've had experiences, Brooks. When you've 
 heard 'em, you wouldn't be surprised, not if it took a 
 dozen to steady me." 
 
 He filled again, and came close to me, holding 
 the glass, yet so tremulously that the rum spilled 
 over his fingers. 
 
 " Ingots, lad— golden ingots ! Bars and wedges 
 of solid gold ! Gems, too, and cath-e-deral plate, with 
 crucifixions and priests' vestments stiff with pearls 
 and rubies as if they was frozen. I've seen 'em 
 lyin' tossed in a heap like mullet in a ground-net. 
 Ay, and blazin' on the beach, with the gulls screamin' 
 over 'em and flappin', and the sea all around. I 
 seen it with these eyes, boy ! " He stood back and 
 shivered. " And behind o' that, the Death ! But it 
 comes equal to all, the Death. Not if a man had 
 learned every trick the devil can teach could he lay 
 his course clear o' that. Could he, now ? " 
 
 His words, his uncouth gestures, which were almost 
 spasms, and the changes in his face — from cupidity 
 to terror, and from terror again to a kind of wistful 
 hope — fairly frightened me, and I stammered stupidly 
 that death Avas the common lot, and there couldn't
 
 40 POISON ISLAND 
 
 be a doubt of it ; that or something of the sort. But 
 what I said does not matter. He was not listening, 
 and before I had done he drained and set down the 
 glass and gripped my arm again. 
 
 " I seen all that — ay, an' felt it ! " He drew away 
 and stretched out both hands, crooking his fingers 
 like talons. "Ay, an' I seen Jiim ! " 
 
 "Him?" I echoed. "But you were talking of 
 Death, sir." 
 
 " You may call him that. There's men lyin' 
 
 around in the sand Did ever you hear, boy, of 
 
 a poison that kills a man and keeps him fresh as 
 paint ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 He nodded. "No, I reckon you never did. 
 Fresh as paint it keeps 'em, and white as a figure- 
 head. The first heap as ever I dug, believin' it to 
 be the treasure— my reckoning was out by a foot or 
 two — I came on one o' them. Three foot beneath 
 the sand I came on him, an' the gulls sheevoing 
 all the while over my head. They knew. And the 
 sea and the dreadful loneliness around us all the 
 while. There was three of us, Brooks — I mention 
 no names, you understand — three of us, and liim. 
 Three to one. Yet he got the better of us all — as 
 he got the better of the first lot, and theij must ha' 
 been a dozen. Four of them we uncovered afore 
 we struck the edge of the treasure — uncovered 'em 
 and covered 'em up again pretty quick, I can tell 
 you. Fresh as paint they were, in a manner o' 
 speaking, just as though they'd died yesterday;
 
 THE WHALEBOAT 41 
 
 whereas by Bill's account they must ha' lain there 
 for more'n a year. And the faces on 'em white and 
 shinin' " 
 
 Here Captain Coffin shivered, and, glancing about 
 him, poured out another go of rum. 
 
 "You wouldn't blame me for wantin' it, Brooks 
 — not if you'd seen 'em. That was on the Keys, as 
 they're called — ^half a dozen banks to no'thard of 
 the island, and maybe from half a mile to three- 
 quarters off the shore, which shoals thereabout — 
 sand, all the lot of 'em, and nothin' but sand ; sand 
 and sea-birds, and — what I told you. But the bulk 
 lies in the island itself, in two caches ; and where 
 the bigger cache lies he don't know, and nobody 
 knows but only Dan Coffin." 
 
 Captain Coffin winked, touched his breast, and 
 wagged his forefinger at me impressively. 
 
 "That makes twice," he went on. "Twice that 
 devil has got the better of every one. But the third 
 time's lucky, they say. He may be dead afore this ; 
 he'll be getting an oldish man, anyway, and life on 
 that cursed island can't be good for his health. We 
 won't go in a crowd this time, neither ; not a dozen, 
 nor yet four of us, but only j^ou an' me, Brooks. It's 
 the safer way — the only safe way — an' there'll be 
 the fatter sharin's. Now you know — hey? — why 
 Branscome's givin' me lessons in navigation." 
 
 He chuckled, and was moving off mysteriously 
 to a back doorway behind the dresser, but halted 
 and came back to the table beside which I stood, 
 making; no motion to follow him.
 
 42 POISON ISLAND 
 
 "Look ye here, Brooks," said he. "If there's 
 anything you don't get the hang of — anything that 
 takes ye aback, so to speak, in what I'm tellin' you 
 — you just hitch on an' trust to old Dan Coffin; to 
 old Dan, as'll do for you more than ever your god- 
 fathers an' godmothers did at your baptism. You'll 
 pick up a full breeze as you go on. ]\Ian, the 
 treasure's there ! ]\[an, I've handled it, or enough 
 of it to keep you in a coach-an'-six, with nothing 
 to do but loll on cushions for the rest o' your days, 
 an' pick your teeth at the crowd. And look ye 
 here." He waved a hand around the room. "I'm 
 old Danny Coffin, ain't I? poor old drunken Danny 
 Coffin, eh ? Yet cast an eye about ye. Nice fittin's, 
 ben't they ? Hitch down my coat off the peg there ; 
 feel the cloth of it; take it between finger and 
 thumb. Ay, I don't live upon air, nor keep house 
 an' fixtures upon nothin' at all. There — if you want 
 more proof ! " He dived a hand into his trouser- 
 pocket, and held out a golden coin under my nose. 
 " There ! that very dollar came from the island, and 
 I'm offerin' you the fellows to it by the thousand. 
 Wliy? says you. Because, says I, you're a good 
 lad, and I've took a fancy to see you in Parlyment. 
 That's why. An' it's no return I'm askin' you, but 
 just to believe ! " 
 
 He made for the back door again, and opened it, 
 letting in the sunlight ; but the sunlight fell in two 
 slanting rays, one on either side of a dark object which 
 all but filled the entrance, blocking out my view of the 
 back court beyond. It was the stern of a tall boat.
 
 THE WHALEBOAT 43 
 
 The boat, in fact, filled tlie small back court, 
 leaving an alley-way scarcely more than two feet 
 wide along either party-wall. She rested on the 
 stocks, about three-parts finished, in shape very like 
 a whaleboat, and in measurement — so Captain Coffin 
 informed me, with a proprietary wave of the hand — 
 some twenty-six feet over all, with a beam of nine 
 feet six inches amidships. And even to a boy's 
 eye she showed herself a pretty model, though (as 
 I say) unfinished, with a foot and more of her ribs 
 standing up bare and awaiting the top strakes. 
 
 "Designed her myself. Brooks. Eh, but your 
 friend Dan'l Coffin has an eye for the shape of a 
 boat, though no hand at pencilling, nor what you 
 might call the cabinet-making part of the job. There's 
 a young carpenter lives up the court here — a cleverish 
 fellow. I got him to help me over the niceties, you 
 understand ; but on my lines, lad. Climb up and 
 cast your eye over the well I've put in her. That's 
 for the treasure; and there'll be side-lockers round 
 the stern-sheets, and a locker forward big enough to 
 hold a man. The fellow dcm't guess their meanin', 
 an' I don't let him guess. He thinks they're for 
 air-compartments, to keep her buoyant ; says she'll 
 need more ballast than I've allowed her, and wants 
 to know what sense there is in buildin' a boat so 
 floatey. We'll ballast her, Brooks ; all in good time. 
 We'll ship her aboard the Kingston packet, bein' 
 of a size that she'll carry comfortable as deck-cargo; 
 and soon as we get to Kingston we'll " 
 
 " Avast there, cap'n ! " interrupted a cheerful
 
 44 POISON ISLAND 
 
 voice; and I glanced np, to see a sandy-haired 
 youth with an extremely good-natured face nodding 
 at us across the coping of the party-wall. " Avast 
 there! Busy with visitors, eh? No? Well, I've 
 been thinkin' it over, and I'll take sixpence an 
 hour." 
 
 " I don't give a ha'penny over fippence," answered 
 Captain Coffin, patently taken aback by the inter- 
 ruption. 
 
 " Fivepence, then, as a pro-temporary accommoda- 
 tion," said the youth, and, throwing a leg over the 
 wall, heaved himself over and into the back yard. 
 " But it's taking advantage of me ; and you know 
 that if I weren't in love and in a hurry it wouldn't 
 happen." 
 
 " You can take fippence, or go to the devil ! " 
 said Captain Coffin. "By the way. Brooks, this is 
 my assistant, Mr. George Groodfellow."
 
 CHAPTEE VI 
 
 MY FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE CHART 
 
 " Good day," said Mr. George Goodfellovv, nodding 
 affably. " I hope I see you well." 
 
 " Pretty well, tliauk you, sir," I answered. 
 
 "And where might you come from, makin' so 
 bold ? " 
 
 I told him that I was a boarder at Mr. Stimcoe's. 
 
 " Then," said Mr. Goodfellow, taking off his coat 
 and extracting a pencil and a two-foot rule from a 
 pocket at the back of his small-clothes, " I'm sorry 
 for you. What a female ! " He chose out a long and 
 flexible plank from a stack laid lengthwise in the 
 alley-way along the base of the wall, lifted it, set it on 
 three trestles, and began to measure and mark it off. 
 " She's calculated to destroy one's belief in human 
 nature, that's what she is ! Fairly knocks the gilt oflf. 
 Sometimes I can't hardly realize that she and Martha 
 belong to the same sex. Martha is my young woman." 
 
 " Yes, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes. x\t present she's living in Plymouth, 
 assistant in a ham-and-beef shop, as you turn down to 
 the Barbican. That's her conscientiousness, instead 
 
 45
 
 46 POISON ISLAND 
 
 of sitting at home and living on her parents. Don't 
 tell me that women — by which I mean some women — 
 ain't the eqnals of men. 
 
 " Because," continued Mr. Goodfellow, after a pause, 
 " I know better. Ever been to Plymouth ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Live there ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 He seemed to be disappointed. 
 
 " You go past the bottom of Treville Street, and 
 there the shop is, slap in front of you. You can't 
 miss it, because it has a plaster-of-Paris cow in the 
 window, and the proprietor's called Mudge. I go to 
 Plymouth every week on purpose to see her." 
 
 " By coach, sir ? " I asked, suddenly interested, and 
 eager to compare notes with him on the Royal Mail 
 and its rivals, the Self-Defence and Highflyer. 
 
 " Coach ? Not a bit of it. Shanks's mare, my 
 boy, every step of the way ; and Martha's worth it. 
 That's the best of bein' in love ; it makes you want 
 to do things. By the way," he asked, "you ain't 
 thinkin' to learn the violin, by any chance ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " No," he said reflectively. " You wouldn't —not 
 at Stimcoe's. Not, mind you, that I believe in cod- 
 dling. Nobody ever coddled Nelson, and yet what 
 happened ? " He shut one eye, put his pencil to it 
 for an imaginary telescope, and took a nautical survey 
 of the back premises. 
 
 " That rain-shute's out of order," he said, ad- 
 dressing Captain Coffin. " Give me a shilling to
 
 MY FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE CHART 47 
 
 put it right for you, and you'll save yourself a lot of 
 trouble." 
 
 " That's the landlord's affair," answered Captain 
 Coffin, " and I'm not paying you fippence an' hour to 
 talk." 
 
 " But, sir," I put in, " if you walk to Plymouth you 
 must pass the house where I live — a low-roofed house 
 about three miles this side of St. Germans village, 
 with a thatch on it, and windows opening right on the 
 road, and ' Minden Cottage ' painted over the door." 
 
 " Know it ? Bless my soul, to be sure I know it ! 
 Why, the last time but one I passed that way, taking 
 note that one of the window-hinges was out of gear, 
 I knocked and asked leave to repair it. A lady 
 with side-curls opened the door, and after the job was 
 done took me into the parlour an' gave me a jugful o' 
 cider over and above the sixpence charged. I believe 
 she'd have made it a shillin', too, only when I told 
 her she lived in a very pretty house, and asked if she 
 owned it or rented it, she turned very stiff in her 
 manner. Touchy as tinder she was ; and if that 
 comes of being a lady, I'm glad my Martha's more 
 sociable." 
 
 " That was Plinny — Miss Plinlimmon, I mean. 
 You didn't catch sight of my father — Major 
 Brooks ? " 
 
 " No, I didn't. But I stopped to pass the time o' 
 day with the landlord of the Seven Stars Inn, a mile 
 along the road, and there I heard about 'en. So 
 you're Major Brooks's son? Well, then, by all 
 accounts you've got a thunderin' good father. Old
 
 48 POISON ISLAND 
 
 English gentleman, straight as a ramrod —pays his 
 way, fears God and honours the King — such was the 
 landlord's words ; and he told me the cottage, as you 
 call it, was rented at twenty-five pounds a year, with 
 a walled garden an' a paddock thrown in, which I call 
 dirt cheap." 
 
 " I don't see that it's any business of yours what my 
 father pays for his house ! " said I, my flush of pleasure 
 changing to one of annoyance. 
 
 I glanced round for Captain Coffin's support, but 
 he had walked indoors, no doubt in despair of Mr. 
 Goodfellow's loquacity. 
 
 " No ? " queried Mr. Goodfellow. " No, I dare say 
 not ; but .you just wait till you fall in love. It's a 
 most curious feelin'. First of all it makes you want 
 to pull off your coat and turn a hand to anything, 
 from breakin' stones to playing the fiddle -it don't 
 matter what, so long as you sweat an' feel you're 
 earnin' money. Why, just take a look at my business 
 card ! " He stepped to his coat, pulled one from his 
 pocket, and glanced over it proudly : " ' George Good- 
 fellow, Carpenter and Decorator — Cabinet Making in 
 all its Branches — Repairs neatly executed — Funerals 
 and Shipping suj^plied — Practical Valuer, and for 
 Probate Fire Office claims prepared and adjusted — 
 Good Berths booked on all the Packets, and guaranteed 
 by personal inspection — Boats built and designed — 
 Instruction in the Violin — Old instruments cleaned 
 and repaired, or taken in exchange — Kowboat for 
 hire.' There, put it in your pocket and take it away 
 with you. I've plenty more in my desk.
 
 MY FIEST GLIMPSE OF THE CHART 49 
 
 " That's what it feels like, bein' in love," continued 
 Mr. Groodfellow. " And, next thing, it makes you 
 take a tremenjus interest in houses — houses an' 
 furnicher an' the price o' things — right down to 
 butter, as you might say. I never see a house, now 
 — leastways, a house that takes my fancy — but I want 
 to be measuring it an' planning out the furnicher, an' 
 the rent, an' where to stow the firewood, an' sitting 
 down cosy in it along with Martha — in the mind's 
 eye, as you may say — one on each side o' the fire, 
 an' making two ends meet. I pity any man that 
 ends a bachelor." He glanced towards the house. 
 " By the way, how do you get along with Coffin ? " 
 
 " He — he seems very kind." 
 
 "'Tisn' his way with boys, as a rule." Mr. 
 Goodfellow tapped his forehead with the end of his 
 two-foot rule. "Upper story," he announced. 
 
 "You think so?" 
 
 "Sure of it. Cracked as a bell. Not," said Mr. 
 Goodfellow, picking up a saw and making ready to 
 cut the plank lengthwise to his measurements — " not 
 that there's any harm in the man, until he gets foul 
 of the drink. The tale is he gets his money out o' 
 Government — a sort of pension. Was mixed up in 
 the Spithead Mutiny, by one account, an' turned 
 informer; but there's another tale he earned it by 
 some hanky-panky over in Lisbon, when the Eoyal 
 Family there packed up traps from the Brazils; and 
 that's the story I favour, for (between you and me) 
 I've seen Portugal money in his possession." 
 
 So, indeed, had I. But Captain Coffin himself 
 
 E
 
 50 POISON ISLAND 
 
 cut short the talk at this point by appearing and 
 announcing from the back doorstep that he had a 
 treat for me if I would come inside. 
 
 The treat consisted in a dish of tea — a luxury in 
 those times, rarely afforded even at Minden Cottage 
 — and a pot of giiava-jelly, with Cornish cream and 
 a loaf of white, wheaten bread. Such bread, I need 
 scarcely say, with wlieat at 140s. a quarter, or there- 
 abouts, never graced the table of Copenhagen 
 Academy. But the dulcet, peculiar taste of guava- 
 jelly is what I associate in memory with that delect- 
 able meal ; and to this day I cannot taste the flavour 
 of guava but I find myself back in Captain Coffin's 
 sitting-room, cutting a third slice from the wheaten 
 loaf, with the corals and shells of mother-of-pearl 
 winking at me from among the china on the 
 dresser, and Captain Coffin seated opposite, with 
 the silver rings in his ears, and his eyes very 
 white in the dusk and distinct within their inflamed 
 rims. 
 
 "Nothing like tea," he was saying — "nothing 
 like tea to pull a man round from the drink and cock 
 him back like a trigger." 
 
 His right hand was at his breast as he spoke. 
 It came out swiftly, as upon a sudden impulse. His 
 left hand closed upon it and partly covered it for a 
 moment; then the two hands spread apart and dis- 
 closed an oilskin case. 
 
 " Brooks ! " he whispered hoarsely. " Brooks, look 
 at this ! " 
 
 His fingers plucked at the oilskin wrapper,
 
 MY FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE CHART 
 
 51 
 
 uncovered it, unfolded an inner parcel of parchment, 
 and, trembling, spread it out on the table. 
 I leaned closer, and this is what I saw : — 
 
 -T i< o TT-T- a K I 
 
 y'-t^g^j ^, 
 
 BAY OF H0MDTTIIA5 
 
 ■I i' o'-^' T e T 
 
 Twice, while I leaned across and stared at it, 
 Captain Coffin's fingers all but closed over the parch- 
 ment to hide it from me. The afternoon light was
 
 52 POISON ISLAND 
 
 falling dim, and I stood up to walk around the edge 
 of the table for a better look. As I pushed back 
 my chair he clutched his treasure away, and hid it 
 away again in the breast of his jumper, at the same 
 moment falling back and passing a hand over his 
 damp forehead. 
 
 " No, no, Brooks ! You mustn't think Only 
 
 you took me sudden. But my promise I've passed, 
 and my promise I'll stand by. Come to-morrow, 
 lad." 
 
 Outside in the back yard I could hear Mr. Good- 
 fellow, the slave of love, sawing for dear life and 
 Martha.
 
 CHAPTER YII 
 
 ENTER THE RETURNED PRISONER 
 
 Strange to say, although I paid six or eight visits 
 after this to Captain Coffin, and by invitation, and 
 watched his whaleboat building, and ate more of his 
 delectable guava-jelly, I saw nothing more of the 
 chart for several months. 
 
 On each occasion he treated me kindly, and made 
 no secret of his having chosen me for his favourite 
 and particular friend; but somehow, without any 
 words, he contrived to set up an understanding that 
 further talk about the chart and the treasure must 
 wait until the boat should be ready for launching. 
 In truth, I believe, a kind of superstitious terror 
 restricted him. He trusted me, yet was afraid of 
 overt signs of trust. You may put it that during 
 this while he was testing, watching me. I can only 
 answer that I had no suspicion of being watched, 
 and that in discussing the boat's fittings with me — 
 her tanks, wells, and general storage capacity — he 
 took it for granted that I followed and understood 
 her purpose. If indeed he was testing me, in my 
 innocence I took the best way to reassure him ; for 
 
 53
 
 54 POISON ISLAND 
 
 I honestly louked upon the whole business as moon- 
 shine, and made no doubt that he was cracked as a 
 fiddle. 
 
 Christmas came, and the holidays with it. As 
 Miss Pliulimmon sang — 
 
 " Welcome, Christmas I Welcome, Yule I 
 It brings the schoolboy home from school. 
 
 [N.B. — Vulgai'ly pronounced " schule " in the West of 
 England.] 
 Puddings and mistletoe and holly, 
 With other contrivances for banishing melancholy : 
 Boar's head, for instance — of which I have never partaken. 
 But the name has associations denied to ordinary bacon." 
 
 Dear soul, she had been waiting at the door — 
 so Sally, the cook, informed me — for about an hour, 
 listening for the coach, and greeted me with a 
 tremulous joy between laughter and tears. Before 
 leading me to my father, however, she warned me 
 that I should find him changed ; and changed he 
 was, less perhaps in appearance than in the per- 
 ceptible withdrawal of his mind from all earthly 
 concerns. He seldom spoke, but sat all day immobile, 
 with the lids of his blind eyes half lowered, so that 
 it was hard to tell whether he brooded or merely 
 dozed. On Christmas Day he excused himself from 
 walking to church with us, and upon top of his 
 excuse looked up with a sudden happy smile — as 
 though his eyes really saw us — and quoted Waller's 
 famous lines : 
 
 " The soul's dark cottage, battered and decay'd. 
 Lets in new light through chinks that time hath made. . , ."
 
 ENTER THE RETURNED PRISONER 55 
 
 To me it seemed rather that, as its home broke 
 up, the soul withdrew little by little, and contracted 
 itself like the pupil of an eye, to shrink to a pinpoint 
 and vanish in the full admitted ray. 
 
 This our last Christmas at Minden Cottage was a 
 quiet yet a singularly happy one. It was good to be 
 at home, yet the end of the holidays and the return 
 to Stimcoe's cast no anticipatory gloom on my spirits. 
 To tell the truth, I had a sneaking affection for 
 Stimcoe's ; and to Miss Plinlimmon's cross-examina- 
 tion upon its internal economies I opposed a careless 
 manly assurance as hardly fraudulent as Mr. Stimcoe's 
 brazen doorplate or his lady's front-window curtains. 
 The careful mending of my linen, too — for Mrs. 
 Stimcoe with all her faults was a needlewoman — 
 helped to disarm suspicion. When we talked of my 
 studies I sang the praises of Captain Branscome, and 
 told of his past heroism and his sword of honour. 
 
 " Branscome ? Branscome, of the Londondemj / " 
 said my father. " Ay, to be sure, I remember Brans- 
 come — a Grod-fearing fellow and a good seaman. You 
 may take him back my compliments, Harry — my 
 compliments and remembrances — and say that if 
 Heaven permitted us to meet again in this world, 
 nothing would give me greater pleasure than to crack 
 a bottle with him." 
 
 I duly reported this to Captain Branscome, and 
 was taken aback by his reception of it. He began in 
 a sudden flurry to ask a dozen questions concerning 
 my father. 
 
 " He keeps good health, I trust ? It would be an
 
 56 POISON ISLAND 
 
 honour to call and chat with the Major. At what 
 hour would he be most accessible to visitors? " 
 
 I stared, for in truth he seemed ready to take me 
 at my word and start off at once, and at my patent 
 surprise he grew yet more nervous and confused. 
 
 "I have kept a regard for your father, Brooks — 
 a veneratif»n, I might almost call it. Sailors and 
 soldiers, if I may say it, are not apt to think too well 
 of one another; but the Major from the first fulfilled 
 my conception of all a soldier should be — a gentle- 
 man fearless and modest, a true Christian hero. 
 Minden Cottage, you say ? And fronting the road a 
 little this side of St. Gorraans? Tell me, pray — and 
 excuse the impertinence — what household does he 
 keep?" 
 
 It is hard to write down Captain Branscome's 
 questions on paper, and divest them, as his gentle 
 face and hesitating kindly manner divested them, of 
 all ojffensiveness. I did not resent them at the time 
 or consider them impertinent. But they were cer- 
 tainly close and minute, and I had reason before long 
 to recall every detail of his catechism. 
 
 Captain Coffin, on the other hand, welcomed me 
 back to Falmouth with a carelessness which dis- 
 appointed if it did not nettle me. He fetched out 
 the tea and guava-jelly, to be sure, but appeared 
 to take no interest in my doings during the holidays, 
 and was uncommunicative on his own. This seemed 
 the stranger because he had important news to tell 
 me. During my absence he and Mr. Goodfellow 
 between them had finished the whaleboat.
 
 ENTER THE RETURNED PRISONER 57 
 
 The truth was — though I did not at once perceive 
 it — that upon its completion the old man had begun 
 to drink hard. Drink invariably made him morose, 
 suspicious. His real goodwill to me had not changed, 
 as I was to learn. He had paid a visit to Captain 
 Branscome, and given him special instructions to 
 teach me the art of navigation, the intricacies of 
 which eluded his own fuddled brain. But for the 
 present he could only talk of trivialities, and especially 
 of the barber's parrot, for which he had conceived a 
 ferocious hate. 
 
 " I'll wring his neck, I will ! " he kept repeating. 
 " 111 wring his neck one o' these days, blast me if 
 I don't!" 
 
 I took my leave that evening in no wise eager to 
 repeat the visit ; and, in fact, I repeated it but twice 
 — and each time to find him in the same sullen 
 humour — between then and May 11, the day when 
 the WeUinghoro transport cast anchor in Falmouth 
 roads with two hundred and fifty returned prisoners 
 of war. 
 
 She had sailed from Bordeaux on x\pril 20, in 
 company with five other transports bound for Ply- 
 mouth, and her putting into Falmouth to repair her 
 steering-gear came as a surprise to the town, which 
 at once hung out all its bunting and prepared to 
 welcome her poor passengers home to England with 
 open arms. A sorry crew they looked, ragged, wild- 
 eyed, and emaciated, as the boats brought them ashore 
 at the Market Stairs to the strains of the Falmouth 
 Artillery Band. The homes of the most of them lay
 
 58 POISON ISLAND 
 
 far away, but England was England ; and a many 
 wept and the crowd wept with them at sight of their 
 tatters, for I doubt if they mustered a complete suit 
 of good English cloth between them. 
 
 Stimcoe, I need scarcely say, had given us a whole 
 holiday ; and Stimcoe's and Rogerses met in amity for 
 once, and cheered in the throng that carried the 
 home-comers shoulder high to the Town Hall, where 
 the Mayor had arrayed a public banquet. There were 
 speeches at the banquet, and alcoholic liquors, both 
 affecting in operation upon his Worship's guests. 
 Poor fellows, they came to it after long abstinence, 
 with stomachs sadly out of training ; and the 
 streets of Falmouth that evening were a panoramic 
 commentary upon the danger of undi.scriminating 
 kindness. 
 
 Now at about five o'clock I happened to be 
 standing at the edge of the Market Stairs, watching 
 the efforts of a boat's crew to take a dozen of these 
 inebriates on board for the transport, when I heard 
 my name called, and turned to see Mr. George 
 Goodfellow beckoning to me from the doorway of 
 the Plume of Feathers public-house. 
 
 " It's Coffin," he explained. " The old fool's sitting 
 in the taproom as drunk as an owl, and I was reckonin' 
 that you an' me between us might get him home quiet 
 before the house fills up an' mischief begins ; for by the 
 looks of it there'll be Newgate-let-loose in Falmouth 
 streets to-night." 
 
 I answered that this was very thoughtful of him ; 
 and so it was, and, moreover, providential that he had
 
 ENTER THE RETURNED PRISONER 59 
 
 dropped in at the Plume of Feathers for twopenny- 
 worth of cider to celebrate the day. 
 
 We found Captain Coffin seated in a corner of the 
 taproom settle, puffing at an empty pipe and staring 
 at vacancy. " Drunk as an owl " described his con- 
 dition to a nicety ; for at a certain stage in his 
 drinking all the world became mirk midnight to him, 
 and he would grope his way home through the traffic 
 at high noon in profound, pathetic belief that darkness 
 and slumber wrapped the streets ; on which occasions 
 the dialogue between him and the barber's parrot 
 might be counted on to touch high comedy. I knew 
 this, and knew also that in the next stage he would 
 recover his eyesight, and at the same time turn 
 dangerously quarrelsome. If Mr. Goodfellow and I 
 could start him home quietly, he would have reason 
 to thank us to-morrow. 
 
 We were bending over him to persuade him — at 
 first, with small success, for he continued to stare and 
 mutter as our voices coaxed without penetrating his 
 muddled intelligence — when a party of 'longshoremen 
 staggered into the taproom, escorting one of the 
 returned prisoners, a thin, sandy-haired, foxy-looking 
 man, with narrow eyes and a neck remarkable for its 
 attenuation and the number and depth of its wrinkles. 
 This neck showed above the greasy collar of a red 
 infantry coat, from which the badges and buttons had 
 long since vanished; and for the rest the fellow wore 
 a pair of dirty white drill trousers of French cut, 
 French shoes, and a round japanned hat ; but, so 
 far as a glance could discover, neither shirt nor
 
 60 POISON ISLAND 
 
 underclothing. When the longshoremen called lor 
 drink he laughed with a kind of happy shiver, as though 
 rubbing his body round the inside of his clothes, cast 
 a quick glance at us in oui- dim corner, and declared 
 for rum, adding that the Mayor of Falmouth was a 
 well-meaning old swab, but his liquor wouldn't warm 
 the vitals of a baby in clouts. 
 
 As he announced this I fancied that our persuasions 
 began to have effect on Captain Coffin, for his eyes 
 blinked as in a strong light, and he seemed to pull 
 himself together with a shudder ; but a moment later 
 he relapsed again and sat staring. 
 
 " Hallo ! " said one of the 'longshoremen. " Who's 
 that you're a-coaxin' of, you two ? Old Coffin, eh ? 
 Well, take the old shammick home, an' thank 'ee. 
 We're tired of 'en here." 
 
 As I looked up to answer I saw the returned 
 prisoner give a start, turn slowly about, and peer 
 at us. He seemed to be badly scared, too, for an 
 instant ; for I heard a sudden, sharp click in his 
 throat — 
 
 "E-e-eh? Coffin, is it? Danny Coffin? Oh, 
 good Lord ! " 
 
 He came towards our corner, still peering, and, as 
 he peered, crouching to that he spread his palms on 
 his knees. 
 
 " Coffin ? Danny Coffin ? " he repeated, in a voice 
 that, as it lost its wondering quaver, grew tense and 
 wicked and wheedling. 
 
 Captain Coffin's face twitched, and it seemed to 
 me that his eyes, though rigid, expanded a little.
 
 ENTER THE RETURNED PRISONER 61 
 
 But they stared into the stranger's face without 
 seeing him. 
 
 The fellow crouched a bit lower, and still lower, as 
 he drew close and thrust his face gradually within 
 a yard of the old man's. 
 
 " Shipmate Danny — messmate Danny — tip us a 
 stave ! The old stave, Danny ! — 
 
 " ' And alongst the Keys o' Mortal-lone I ' " 
 
 As his voice lifted to it in a hoarse melancholy 
 minor (times and again since that moment the tune 
 has put me in mind of sea-birds crying over a waste 
 shore), I saw the shiver run across Captain Coffin's 
 face and neck, and with that his sight came back to 
 him, and he bounced upright from the settle, with a 
 horrible scream, his hands fencing, clawing at air. 
 
 The prisoner dropped back with a laugh. Mr. 
 Goodfellow, at a choking sound, put out a hand to 
 loosen Captain Coffin's neckcloth ; but the old man 
 beat him off. 
 
 " Not you ! Not you ! Harry ! " 
 
 He gripped me by the arm, and, ducking his head, 
 fairly charged me past the 'longshoremen and out 
 through the doorway into the street. As we gained it 
 I heard the stranger in the taproom behind me break 
 into a high, cackling laugh.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE HUNTED AND THE HUNTER 
 
 All the drunkenness had gone out of Captain Danny. 
 Gripping my arm, he steered me rapidly through the 
 knots of loafers, up Market Strand into the crowded 
 Fore Street, across it and up the hill towards open 
 country, taking the ascent with long strides which 
 forced me now and again into a run. Twice or thrice 
 I glanced up at his face, for I was scared, and badly 
 scared. His mouth worked, and I observed small 
 beads of sweat on his shaven upper lip; but he kept 
 his eyes fastened straight ahead, and paid no heed 
 to me. 
 
 At the head of the street the towTi melted off 
 into a suburb of scattered houses, modest domiciles 
 of twenty-five pounds or thirty pounds rentals, 
 detached, each with its garden and narrow garden- 
 door, for Falmouth in those days boasted few 
 carriage-folk. He paused once hereabouts, in the 
 roadway between two walls, and stood listening, 
 while his right hand trembled on his stick; but 
 presently gripped my arm again and hurried me 
 forward, nor halted until we reached the summit, and 
 
 62
 
 THE HUNTED AND THE HUNTER 63 
 
 the open country lay before us, with the Channel and 
 its long horizon on our left. Here, in a cornfield on 
 the very knap of the hill, and some two hundred 
 yards back from the road, stood the shell of an old 
 windmill, overlooking the sea — deserted, ruinous, 
 without sails, a building many hundreds of years older 
 than the oldest house in Falmouth, serving now but 
 as a landmark for fishermen, and on Sundays a 
 rendezvous for courting couples. At the stile leading 
 into the cornfield. Captain Coffin released me, 
 climbed over, hurried up the footpath to the windmill, 
 and, having satisfied himself that the building was 
 empty, motioned me to seat myself on the side where 
 its long shadow pointed down across a bank of nettles, 
 and beyond the edge of the green young barley 
 sheeting the slope towards the harbour. 
 
 "Brooks," he began — but his voice rattled like a 
 dried pea in a pod, and he had to moisten his under- 
 lip with his tongue before he could proceed — " Brooks, 
 are you in any way a superstitious kind o' boy ? " 
 
 " That depends, sir," said I, diplomatically. 
 
 " After all these years, too," he groaned , " an' 
 agen' all likelihood o' natur'. But you saw him — 
 hey ? You heard what he said, an' that cussed song, 
 too ? Sang it, he did ; slapped it out at the top of 
 his voice in a public tavern. I tell you. Brooks — 
 knowin' what he knows — a man must have all hell 
 runnin' cold in him to sing them words aloud an' not 
 care who heard." 
 
 " Why, he sang but a line of it," said I, "and that 
 harmless enough, though dismal."
 
 64 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " Is that so, lad — is that so ? " Captain Danny 
 put out a hand like a bird's claw and hooked me by 
 the cuff. " Wasn' there nothing in it about Execution 
 Dock ; nothing about ripe medlars — ' medlars a-rottin' 
 on the tree ' ? No ? " — for I shook my head. " Well, 
 then, I could be sworn I heard him singin' them words 
 for minutes, an' me sittin' all the while wi' the horrors 
 on me afore I dp red look in his damned face. An' 
 you tell me he piped but a line of it ? " His eyes 
 searched mine anxiously. "Brooks," he went on, in a 
 voice almost coaxing, " I'd give five hundred pound 
 at this moment if you could look me in the face an' 
 tell me the whole scare was nothing but fancy— that 
 he wasn' there ! " 
 
 His grasp relaxed as I shook my head again. 
 Despair grew in his eyes, and he pulled back his hand. 
 
 " I'll put it to you another way," said he, after 
 seeming to reflect for a while. " Suppose there was a 
 couple o' men mixed up in an ugly job — by which I 
 don't mean to say there was any real harm in the 
 business ; leastways not to start with ; but, as it went 
 on, these two men were forced to do something that 
 brought them within reach o' the law. We'll put it 
 that, when the thing was done, the one o' this pair 
 felt it heavy upon his mind, but t'other didn' care no 
 more than a brass button ; an' the one that took it 
 serious — as you might say — lost sight o' the other for 
 year.s, an' meantime picked up with a little religion, 
 an' made oath with hisself that all the profits o' the 
 job (for there were profits) should come into innecent 
 hands You catch on to this ? "
 
 THE HUNTED AND THE HUNTER 65 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 " Well, then " — he leant forward, his palm resting 
 amid a bed of nettles. He did not appear to feel 
 their sting, although, while he spoke, I saw the back 
 of his hand whiten slowly with blisters — *' well, then, 
 you can't go for to argue with me that the A'mighty 
 would go for to strike the chap that repented by 
 means o' the chap that didn'. 'Tisn' reasonable nor 
 religious to think such a thing — is it now ? " 
 
 " He might punish the one first," said I, judicially, 
 "and keep the other — the wicked man — for a worse 
 punishment in the end. A great deal," I added, 
 " might depend on what sort of crime they'd com- 
 mitted. If 'twas a murder, now " 
 
 " Murder ? " He caught me up sharply, and his 
 eyes turned from watching me, to throw a quick glance 
 back along the footpath, then fastened themselves 
 on the horizon. " Who's a-talkin' of any such 
 thing?" 
 
 "I was putting a case, sir — putting it as bad as 
 possible. ' Murder will out,' they say ; but with 
 smaller crimes it may be different." 
 
 " Murder ? " He sprang up and began to pace to 
 and fro. " How came that in your head, eh ? " He 
 threw me a furtive sidelong look, and halted before 
 me, mopping his forehead. " I'll tell you what, 
 though : Murder there'll be if you don't help me give 
 that devil the slip." 
 
 " But, sir, he never offered to follow you." 
 
 " Because he reckoned I couldn' run — or wouldn', 
 as I've never run from him yet. But with you in the 
 
 F
 
 66 POISON ISLAND 
 
 secret I must give him leg bail, no matter what it 
 costs me. And, see here, Brooks : you're clever for 
 your age, an' I want your advice. In the first place, 
 I daren't go home ; that's where he'll be watchin' for 
 me sooner or later. Next, our plans ain't laid for 
 startin' straight off — here as we be — an' givin' him 
 the go-by. Third an' last, I daren't go carryin' the 
 secret about with me ; he might happen on me any 
 moment, an' I'm not in trainin'. The drink's done 
 for me, boy, whereas he Ye been farin' hard an' livin' 
 clean." Captain Cofifin, with his hands deep in his 
 pocket, stared down at the transport at anchor below, 
 and bent his brows. *'I can't turn it over to you, 
 neither," he mused. " That might ha' done well 
 enough if he hadn' seen you in my company ; but now 
 we can't trust to it." 
 
 He took another dozen paces forth and back, and 
 halted before me again. 
 
 " Brooks," he said, " how about your father ? " 
 
 " The very man, sir," I answered ; *' that is, if you 
 would trust him." 
 
 " Caj^'n Branscome tells me he's one in a thousand. 
 I thought first o' Branscome, but there's folks as 
 know about my goin' to him for navigation lessons ; 
 an' if Glass got hold o' that, 'twould be a hot 
 scent." 
 
 "Glass?" I echoed. 
 
 "That's his d d name, lad — Aaron Glass; 
 
 though he've passed under others, and plenty of 'em, 
 in his time. Well, now, if I can slip out o' Falmouth 
 unbeknowns to him, an' win to your father — on the
 
 THE HUNTED AND THE HUNTER 67 
 
 Plymouth road, I've heard you say, and a little this 
 side of St. Germans " 
 
 " You might walk over to Penryn and pick up the 
 night coach." 
 
 Captain Coffin shook his head as he turned out 
 his pockets. 
 
 " One shilling, lad, an' two ha'pennies. It won't 
 carry me. An' I daren' go home to refit ; an' I daren' 
 send you." 
 
 " I could take a message to Captain Branscome," 
 I suggested ; " and he might fetch you the money, if 
 you tell him where to look for it." 
 
 " That's an idea," decided Captain Cofiin, after a 
 moment's thought. He unbuttoned his waistcoat, dived 
 a hand within the breast of his shirt, and pulled forth 
 a key looped through with a tarry string. This string 
 he severed with his pocket-knife. "Eun you down 
 to the cap'n's lodgings," said he, handing me the key, 
 " an' tell him to go straight an' unlock the cupboard 
 in the cornder — the one wi' the toolips painted over 
 the door. You know it? Well, say that on the 
 second shelf he'll find a small bagful o' money — he 
 needn't stay to count it — an' 'pon the same shelf, 
 right back in the cornder, a roll o' papers. Tell him 
 to keep the pajjers till he hears from me, but the bag 
 he's to give to you, an' you're to bring it along quick 
 — with the key. Mind, you're not to go with him on 
 any account ; an' if you should run against this Glass 
 on your way, give him a wide berth — go straight 
 home to Stimcoe's — do anytliing but lay him on to 
 my trail by comin' back to tell me. Understand?
 
 68 POISON ISLAND 
 
 There, now, hark to the town clock chimin' below 
 there ! Six o'clock it is — four bells. If you're not 
 back agen by seven I shall know what's happened an* 
 take steps accordin'. An' you'll know that I'm on my 
 way to your father by another tack. * What tack ? ' 
 says you. 'Never you mind/ says I. If the worst 
 comes to the worst, old Dan Coffin has a shot left 
 in his locker." 
 
 I took the key and ran. The alley where Captain 
 Branscome lodged lay a gunshot on this side of the 
 Market Strand ; and while I ran I kept — as the saying 
 is — my eyes skinned for a sight of the enemy. The 
 coast, however, was clear. 
 
 But at Captain Branscome's door a wholly un- 
 expected disappointment awaited me. It was locked, 
 and I had not hammered twice on its shining brass 
 knocker before a neighbouring housewife put forth 
 her head from a window in the gathering dusk, and 
 informed me that the captain was not at home. He 
 had gone out early in the afternoon, and left his door- 
 key with her, saying that he was off on a visit, and 
 would not return before to-morrow afternoon at earliest. 
 For a moment I was tempted to disobey i Captain 
 Danny's injunctions, and fetch the money myself, or 
 at least make a bold attempt for it ; but, recollecting 
 how earnestly he had charged me, and how cheerfully 
 at the last he had assured me that he had still a shot 
 in his locker, I turned and mounted the hill again, 
 albeit dejectedly. 
 
 The moon was rising as I climbed over the stile 
 into the footpath, and, recognizing my footstep, the
 
 THE HUNTED AND THE HUNTER 69 
 
 old man came forward to meet me, out of the shadow 
 on the western side of the windmill, to which he had 
 shifted his watch. 
 
 My ill-success, depressing enough to me, he took 
 very cheerfully. 
 
 " I was afraid," said he, " you might be foolin' off 
 for the money on your own account. Gone on a visit, 
 has he ? Well, you can hand him the key to-morrow, 
 with my message. An' now I'll tell you my next 
 notion. The St. Mawes packet " — this was the facetious 
 name given to a small cutter which plied in those 
 days between Falmouth and the small village of St. 
 Mawes across the harbour — " the St. Mawes packet is 
 due to start at seven-thirty. I won't risk boardin' her 
 at Market Strand, but pick up a boat at Arwennack, 
 an' row out to hail her as she's crossin'. She'll pick 
 me up easy, wi' this wind ; but if she don't, I'll get 
 the waterman to pull me right across. Bogue, the 
 landlord of The Lugger over there, knows me well 
 enough to lend me ten shillin', an' wi' that I can 
 follow the road through Tregoney to St, Austell, an' 
 hire a lift maybe." 
 
 I could not but applaud the plan. The route he 
 proposed cut off a corner, led straight to Minden 
 Cottage, and was at the same time the one on which 
 he was least likely to be tracked. We descended the 
 hill together, keeping to the dark side of the road. At 
 the foot of the hill we parted, with the understanding 
 that I was to run straight home to Stimcoe's, and ex- 
 plain my absence at locking-up — or, as Mr. Stimcoe 
 preferred to term it, "names-calling"— as best I might.
 
 70 POISON ISLAND 
 
 Thereupon I did au incredibly foolish thing, ^vhich, 
 as it proved, defeated all our plans and gave rise to 
 unnumbered woes. I was already late for names- 
 calling ; but for this I cared little. Stimcoe had not 
 the courage to flog me ; the day had been a holiday, 
 and of a sort to excuse indiscij)line ; and, anyway, one 
 might as well suffer for a sheep as for a lamb. The 
 St. Mawes packet would be lying alongside the Market 
 Strand. The moon was up — a round, full moon — and 
 directly over St. Mawes, so that her rays fell, as near 
 as might be, in the line of the cutter's course, which, 
 with a steady breeze down the harbour, would be a 
 straight one. From the edge of Market Strand I 
 might be able to spy Captain Coffin's boat as he 
 boarded. Let me, without extenuating, be brief over 
 my act of folly. Instead of making at once for 
 Stimcoe's, I bent my steps towards Market Strand. 
 The St. Mawes packet lay there, and I stood on the 
 edge of the quay, watching her preparations for cast- 
 ing off — the skipper clearing the gangway and politely 
 helping aboard, between the warning notes of his 
 whistle, belated marketers who came running with 
 their bundles. 
 
 While I stood there, a man sauntered out and 
 stood for a moment on the threshold of the Plume 
 of Feathers. It was the man x\.aron Glass, and, 
 recognizing him, I (that had been standing directly 
 under the light of the quay-lamp) drew back from the 
 edge into the darkness. I had done better, perhaps, 
 to stand where I was. How long he had been 
 observing me —if, indeed, he had observed me — I
 
 THE HUNTED AND THE HUNTER 71 
 
 could not tell. But, as I drew back, he advauced 
 and strolled nonchalantly past me, at five yards 
 distance, down to the quay-steps. 
 
 " All aboard for St. Mawes ! " called the skipper, 
 drawing in his plank. 
 
 " All but one, captain ! " answered Glass, and, dis- 
 daining it, without removing his hands from his 
 pockets, put a foot upon the bulwark and sprang 
 lightly on to her deck.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 CHAOS IN THE CAPTAIN's LODGINGS 
 
 I LEAVE you to guess what were my feelings as foot 
 by foot the packet's quarter fell away wider of the 
 quay. If, as the skipper thrust off, I had found 
 presence of mind to jump for her, who knows what 
 mischief might have been prevented ? I could at 
 least — whatever the consequences — have called a 
 warning to Captain Coffin to give his enemy a wide 
 berth. But I was unnerved; the impulse came too 
 late ; and as the foresail filled and she picked up 
 steerage way, I stood helpless under the lamp at the 
 quay-head — stood and stared after her, alone with the 
 sense of my incredible folly. 
 
 Somewhere out yonder Captain Coffin was waiting 
 in his shore-boat. I listened, minute after minute, on 
 the chance of hearing his hail. A heavy bank of 
 cloud had overcast the moon, and the packet melted 
 from sight in a blur of darkness. Worst of all — worse 
 even than the sting of self-reproach — was the prospect 
 of returning to Stimcoe's and wearing through the 
 night, while out there in the darkness the two men 
 would meet, and all that followed their meeting must 
 happen unseen by me. 
 
 72
 
 CHAOS IN THE CAPTAIN'S LODGINGS 73 
 
 This ordeal appeared so dreadful to me in prospect 
 that I began to cast about among all manner of 
 impracticable plans for escaping it. Of these the 
 most promising — although I had no money — was to 
 give the Stimcoes leg-bail and run home; the most 
 alluring, too, since it offered to deaden the torment 
 of uncertainty by keeping me employed, mind and 
 body. I must follow the coach-road. In imagination 
 I measured back the distance. If George Goodfellow 
 walked to Plymouth and back once a week, why might 
 not I succeed in walking to Minden Cottage ? Home 
 was home. I should get counsel and comfort there ; 
 counsel from my father and comfort most assuredly 
 from Plinny. I needed both, and in Falmouth just 
 now there was none of either. Even Captain 
 Branscome, who might have helped me 
 
 At this point a sudden thought fetched me up 
 with a jerk. The enemy, by pursuing after Cap- 
 tain Danny, had at least left me a clear coast. I 
 was safe for a while against his spying, and con- 
 sequently the embargo was off. I had no need to 
 wait for morning. I could go myself to the old 
 man's lodgings, unlock the corner cupboard, and 
 bring away the roll of papers. 
 
 I dived my hand into my breech-pocket for the 
 forgotten key. It was small, and of a curious, 
 intricate pattern. Almost before my fingers closed 
 upon it my mind was made up. Stimcoe's — that is, 
 if I decided to return to Stimcoe's — might wait. I 
 might yet decide to break ship — as Captain Danny 
 would have put it — and make a push for home ; but
 
 74. POISON ISLAND 
 
 that decisiou, too, must wait. Meanwhile, here was 
 an urgent errand, and a clear coast fur it ; hei-e was 
 occupation and inexpressible relief. It's an ill wind 
 that blows nobody some good. 
 
 I set off at a run. On my way I met and passed 
 half a dozen gangs of hilarious ex-prisoners and 
 equally hilarious townsmen escorting them to the 
 waterside, where the coxswains of the transport's boats 
 were by this time blowing impatient calls on their 
 whistles. But the upper end of the street was well- 
 nigh deserted. A dingy oil lantern overhung the 
 pavement a few yards from the ope, and above the 
 ope the barber's parrot hung silent, with a shawl 
 flung over its cage. I dived into the dark passage, 
 and, stumbling my way to Captain Danny's door, 
 found that it gave easily to my hand. 
 
 For a moment I paused on the threshold, striv- 
 ing to remember where he kept his tinder-box and 
 matches. But the room was small. I knew the 
 geography of it, and could easily — I told myself — 
 grope my way to the corner, find the cupboard, and, 
 feeling for the keyhole, insert the key. I was about 
 to essay this when the thought occurred to me that, 
 as Captain Danny had left the door on the latch, so 
 very likely with equal foresight he had placed his 
 tinder-box handy — on the table, it might be. I put 
 out my hand in the direction where, as I recollected, 
 the table stood. It reached into empty darkness. I 
 took another step and groped for the table with both 
 hands. Still darkness, nothing but darkness ! I 
 took yet another step and struck my foot against a
 
 CHAOS IN THE CAPTAIN'S LODGINGS 75 
 
 hard object on the floor ; and, as I bent to examine 
 this, something sharp and exceeding painful thrust 
 itself into my groin — a table-leg, upturned. 
 
 Kecovering myself, I passed a hand over it. Yes, 
 undoubtedly it was a table-leg and the table lay 
 topsy-turvy. But how came it so ? Who had upset 
 it, and why ? I took another step, sideways, and my 
 boot struck against something light and, by its sound, 
 hollow [and metallic. Stooping very cautiously — for 
 by this time I had taken alarm and was holding my 
 breath — I passed a hand lightly over the floor. My 
 fingers encountered the object I had kicked aside. It 
 was a tinder-box. I clutched it softly, and as softly 
 drew myself upright again. Could I dare to strike a 
 light? The over-turned table: What could be the 
 meaning of it ? It could not have been overturned 
 by Captain Coifin. By whom then ? Some one must 
 have visited the lodgings in his absence. 
 
 Some one, for aught I knew, was in the room at 
 this moment ! — Some one, back there against the 
 wall, waiting only for me to strike a light ! I 
 declare that at the thought I came near to screaming 
 aloud, casting the tinder-box from me and rushing 
 out blindly into the court. 
 
 I dare say that I stood for a couple of minutes, 
 motionless, listening not with my ears only but 
 with every hair of my head. Nevertheless, my wits 
 must have been working somehow; for my first 
 action, when I plucked up nerve enough for it, was 
 an entirely sensible one. I set the tinder-box on the 
 floor between my heels, felt for the table, and righted
 
 76 POISON ISLAND 
 
 it ; then, picking up the box again, set it on the table 
 and twisted off the lid. I found flint and steel at 
 once, dipped my fingers into the box to make sure of 
 the tinder and the brimstone matches, and so, after 
 another pause to listen, essayed to strike out the spark. 
 
 This, for a pair of trembling hands, proved no 
 easy business, and at first promised to be a hopeless 
 one. But the worst moment arrived when, the spark 
 struck, I stooped to blow it upon the tinder, the 
 glow of which must light up my own face while 
 it revealed to me nothing of the surrounding darkness. 
 Still, it had to be done; and, keeping a tight hold on 
 Avhat little remained of my courage, I thrust in the 
 match and ignited it. 
 
 While the brimstone caught fire and bubbled I 
 drew myself erect to face the worst. But for what 
 met my eyes as the flame caught hold of the stick, 
 even the overturned table had not prepared me. 
 
 The furniture of the room lay pell-mell, as though 
 a cyclone had swept through it. The iiery pictures 
 hung askew. Of the drawers in the dresser some had 
 been pulled out bodily, others stood half open, and all 
 had been ransacked ; while the fragments of china 
 strewn along the shelves or scattered across the floor 
 could only be accounted for by some blind ferocity of 
 destruction — a madman, for instance, let loose upon 
 it and striking at random with a stick. As the 
 match burned low in my fingers I looked around 
 hastily for a candle, scanning the dresser, the mantel- 
 shelf, the hugger-mugger of linen, crockery, wall- 
 ornaments, lying in a trail along the floor. But no
 
 CHAOS IN THE CAPTAIN'S LODGINGS 77 
 
 caudle could I discover; so I lit a second match 
 from the first and turned towards the sacred cupboard 
 in the corner. 
 
 The cupboard was gone ! 
 
 I held the match aloft, and stared at the angle of 
 the wall ; stared stupidly, at first unable to believe. 
 Yes, the cupboard was gone ! Nothing remained 
 but the mahogany bracket which had supported it. 
 I gazed around, the match burning lower and lower in 
 my hand till it scorched my fingers. The pain of 
 it awakened me, and, dropping the charred end, I 
 stumbled out into the passage, almost falling on the 
 way as my feet entangled themselves in Captain 
 Coffin's best table-cloth. 
 
 A moment later I was rapping at Mr. George 
 Goodfellow's door. I knew that he sometimes sat up 
 late to practice his violin-playing ; and in my con- 
 fusion of terror I heeded neither that the house was 
 silent nor that the window over his doorway showed a 
 blank and unlit face to the night. I knocked and 
 knocked again, pausing to call his name urgently, 
 at first in hoarse whispers, by-and-by desperately, 
 lifting my voice as loudly as I dared. 
 
 At length a voice answered ; but it came from the 
 end of the passage next the street, and it was not Mr. 
 Goodfellow's. 
 
 " D — n my giblets ! " it said, in a kind of muffled 
 scream. " Drunk again ! Oh, you nasty image ! " 
 
 It was the barber's accursed parrot. I could hear 
 it tearing with its beak at the bars of its cage, as if 
 struggling to pull off the cloth which covered it.
 
 78 POISON ISLAND 
 
 A window creaked on its hinges, some way up 
 tlie court. 
 
 " Hallo ! Who's there ? " demanded a gruff voice. 
 
 I took to my heels, and made a dash up the 
 passage for the street. The cage, as I passed under 
 it, swayed violently with the parrot's struggles for 
 free speech. 
 
 " Drunk again ! " it yelled. " Kiss me, kiss me, 
 kiss me — here's a pretty time o' night to disturb 
 a lady ! " 
 
 No longer had I any thought of braving the night 
 and the perils of the road, but pressed my elbows 
 tight against my ribs and raced straight for Stimcoe's.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 NEWS 
 
 By great good fortune, Mr. Stimcoe had been drinking 
 the health of the returned prisoners until his own was 
 temporarily affected. In fact, as I reached Delamere 
 Terrace, panting and excogitating the likeliest excuse 
 to offer Mrs. Stimcoe, the door of No. 7 opened, and 
 the lady herself emerged upon the night, with a 
 shawl swathed carelessly over her masculine neck and 
 shoulders. 
 
 I drew up and ducked aside to avoid recognition, 
 but she halted under the lamp and called to me, in 
 no very severe voice — 
 " Harry ! " 
 " Yes, ma'am ! " 
 
 " You are late, and I have been needing you. Mr. 
 Stimcoe is suffering from an attack." 
 
 " Indeed, ma'am ? " said I. " Shall I run for Dr. 
 Spargo ? " 
 
 She stood for a moment considering, " No," she 
 decided; "I had better fetch Dr. Spargo myself. 
 Being more familiar with the symptoms, I can 
 describe them to him." 
 
 79
 
 80 POISON ISLAND 
 
 More familiar with the symptoms, poor woman, 
 she undoubtedly was, though I was familiar enough ; 
 and so, for that matter, was the doctor, whose ledger 
 must have registered at least a dozen similar 
 " attacks." But I understood at once her true reason 
 for not entrusting me with the errand. It would 
 require all her courage, all her magnificent im- 
 pudence, to browbeat Dr. Spargo into coming, for I 
 doubt if the Stimcoes had ever paid him a stiver. 
 
 " But you can be very useful," she went on, in a 
 tone unusually gentle. " You will find Mr. Stimcoe 
 in his bedroom — at least, I hope so, for he suffers 
 from a hallucination that some person or persons 
 unknown have incarcerated him in a French war- 
 prison, such being the effect of to-day's — er — pro- 
 ceedings upon his highly strung nature. The illusion 
 being granted, one can hardly be surprised at his 
 resenting it." 
 
 I nodded, and promised to do my best. 
 
 " You are a very good boy, Harry," said Mrs. 
 Stimcoe— a verdict so different from that which I 
 had arrived expecting, or with any right to expect, 
 that I stood for some twenty seconds gaping after 
 her as she pulled her shawl closer and went on her 
 heroic way. 
 
 I found Mr. Stimcoe in deshahille on the first-floor 
 landing, under the derisive surveillance of Masters 
 Doggy Bates, Bob Pilkington, and Scotty Maclean, 
 whose graceless mirth echoed down to me from the 
 stair-rail iLumediately overhead. Ignoring my pre- 
 ceptor's invitation to bide a wee and take a cup of
 
 NEWS 81 
 
 kindness yet for auld lang syne, I ran up and knocked 
 their heads together, kicked them into the dormitory, 
 turned the key on their reproaches, and — these pre- 
 liminaries over — descended to grapple with the 
 situation. 
 
 Mr. Stimcoe, in night garments, was conducting a 
 dialogue in Avhich he figured alternately as the tyrant 
 and the victim of oppression. In the character of 
 Napoleon Bonaparte he had filled a footbath with 
 cold water, and was commanding the Rev. Philip 
 Stimcoe to strip — as he put it — to the teeth, and 
 immerse himself forthwith. As the Rev. Philip 
 Stimcoe, patriot and martyr, he was obstinately, and 
 with even more passion, refusing to do anything of 
 the kind, and for the equally cogent reasons that he 
 was a Protestant of the Protestants and that the water 
 had cockroaches in it. 
 
 " Of course," said Mr. Stimcoe to me, " if you pre- 
 sent yourself as Alexander of Russia, there is no more 
 to be said, always provided" — and here he removed 
 his nightcap and made me a profound bow — " that 
 your credentials are satisfactory." 
 
 Apparently they were. At any rate, I prevailed 
 on him to return to his room, when he took my arm, 
 and, seating himself on the bedside, recited to me the 
 paradigms of the more anomalous Greek verbs with 
 great volubility for twenty minutes on end — that is 
 to say, until Mrs. Stimcoe returned with the doctor 
 safely tucked under her wing. 
 
 At sight of me seated in charge of the patient, 
 Pr. Spargo - a mild little man — lifted his eyebrows. 
 
 G
 
 82 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " Surely, madam " he began in a scandalized 
 
 tone. 
 
 " This is Harry Brooks." Mrs. Stimcoe intro- 
 duced me loftily. " If you wish him to retire, be 
 kind enough to say so, and have done with it. Our 
 boarders, I may say, have the run of the house — 
 it is part of Mr. Stimcoe's system. But Harry has 
 too much delicacy to remain where he feels him- 
 self de trop. Harry, you have my leave to with- 
 draw." 
 
 I obeyed, aware that the doctor — who had pushed 
 his spectacles high upon his forehead — was following 
 my retreat with bewildered gaze. As I expected, no 
 sooner had I regained the dormitory than my fellow- 
 boarders — forgetting their sore heads, or, at any rate, 
 forgiving— began to pester me with a hundred ques- 
 tions. I had to repeat the punishment on Doggy 
 Bates before they suffered me to lie down in quiet. 
 
 But the interlude, in itself discomposing, had 
 composed my nerves for the while. I expected no 
 sleep ; had, indeed, an hour ago, deemed it impossible 
 1 should sleep that night. Yet, in fact, my head 
 was scarcely on the pillow before I slept, and slept 
 like a top. 
 
 The town clock awoke me, striking four. To the 
 far louder sound of Scotty Maclean's snoring, in the 
 bed next to mine, I was case-hardened. I lay for a 
 second or two counting the strokes, then sprang out 
 of bed, and, running to the window, drew wide the 
 curtain. The world was awake, the sun already clear 
 above the hills over St. Just pool, and all the harbour
 
 NEWS 83 
 
 twinkling with its rays. My eyes searched the stretch 
 of water between me and St. Mawes, as though for 
 flotsam — anything to give me news, or a hint of news. 
 
 For many minutes I stood staring — needless to 
 say, in rain — and so, the morning being chilly, crept 
 back to bed with the shivers on me. 
 
 Two hours later, in the midst of my dressing, I 
 looked out of the window again, and saw the St. 
 Mawes packet reaching across towards Falmouth 
 merrily, quite as if nothing had hapj)ened. Yet some- 
 thing — I told myself — 7nust have happened. 
 
 The Copenhagen Academy enjoyed a holiday that 
 day, for Captain Branscome failed to present himself, 
 and Mr. Stimcoe lay under the influence of sedatives. 
 At eleven in the morning he awoke, and began to 
 discuss the character of Talleyrand at the pitch of 
 his voice. Its echoes reached me where I sat dis- 
 consolate in the deserted schoolroom, and I went 
 upstairs to the bedroom door to offer my services. 
 Doggy Bates, Pilkington, and Scotty Maclean had 
 hied them immediately after breakfast to the harbour, 
 to beg, borrow, or steal a boat and fish for mackerel ; 
 and Mrs. Stimcoe, worn out with watching, set down 
 my faithful presence to motives of which I was shame- 
 fully innocent. In point of fact, I had lurked at 
 home because I could not bear company. I pre- 
 ferred the deserted schoolroom, though Heaven knows 
 what I would not have given for the dull distraction 
 of work — an hour of Rule of Three with Captain 
 Branscome, or Caesar's Commentaries with Mr. Stim- 
 coe, But Mr. Stimcoe lay upstairs chattering, and
 
 84 POISON ISLAND 
 
 Captain Branscome appeared to be taking a pro- 
 tracted holiday. It hardly occurred to me to wonder 
 why. 
 
 It was borne in upon me later that during this 
 interval of anarchy in the Stimcoe establishment — it 
 lasted two days, and may have lasted longer for aught I 
 know — I wasted little wonder on the continued absence 
 of Captain Branscome. I was indeed kept anxious 
 by my own fears, which did not decrease as the hours 
 dragged by. From the window of Mr. Stimcoe's sick- 
 room I watched the St. Mawes packet plying to and 
 fro. I had a mind to steal down to the Market 
 Strand and interrogate her skipper. I had a mind 
 — and laid more than one plan for it — to follow up 
 my first impulse of bolting for home, to discover if 
 Captain Coffin had arrived there. But Mrs. Stimcoe, 
 misinterpreting my eagerness to be employed, had 
 by this time enlisted me into full service in the 
 sick-room. After the first hint of surprised grati- 
 tude, she betrayed no feeling at all, but bound me 
 severely to my task. We took the watching turn 
 and turn about, in spells of three hours' duration. 
 I was held committed, and could not desert without 
 a brand on my conscience. The disgusting feature 
 of this is that I was almost glad of it, at the same 
 time longing to run, and feeling that this, in a way, 
 exonerated me. 
 
 At about seven o'clock on the evening of the 
 second day, while I sat by Mr. Stimcoe's bedside, 
 there came a knock at the front door, and, looking 
 out of window— for Mrs. Stimcoe had gone to bully
 
 NEWS 85 
 
 another sedative oat of the doctor, and there was no 
 one in the house to admit a visitor — I saw Captain 
 Branscome below me on the doorstep. 
 
 " Hallo ! " said I, as cheerfully as I might, for Mr. 
 Stimcoe was awake and listening. 
 
 "Is — is that Harry Brooks?" asked Captain 
 Branscome, stepping back and feeling for his gold- 
 rimmed glasses. But by some chance he was not 
 wearing them. After fumbling for a moment, he 
 gazed up towards the window, blinking. Folk who 
 habitually wear glasses look unnatural without them. 
 Captain Branscome's face looked unnatural somehow. 
 It was pale, and for the moment it seemed to me to 
 be almost a face of fright ; but a moment later I set 
 down its pallor to weariness. 
 
 "Mrs. Stimcoe has gone off to the doctor," said 
 I, " and Mr. Stimcoe is sick, and I am up here nursing 
 him. There is no one to open, but you can give me 
 a message." 
 
 " I just came up to make sure you were all 
 right." 
 
 " If you mean Stim — Mr. Stimcoe, he's better, 
 though the doctor says he won't be able to leave his 
 bed for days. How did you come to hear about it ? " 
 
 " I've heard nothing about Mr. Stimcoe," answered 
 (captain Branscome, after a hesitating pause. " I've 
 been away — on a holiday. Nothing wrong with you 
 at all ? " he asked. 
 
 I could not understand Captain Branscome. Why 
 on earth should he be troubling himself about my 
 state of health ?
 
 86 POISON ISLAND 
 
 "Nothing happened to upset you ? " he asked. 
 
 I looked down at him sharply. As a matter of 
 fact, and as the reader knows, a great deal had 
 happened to upset me, but that any hint of it should 
 have reached Captain Branscome was in the highest 
 degree unlikely, and in any case I could not discuss 
 it with him from an upstairs window and in my 
 patient's hearing. So I contented myself with asking 
 him where he had spent his holiday. 
 
 The question appeared to confuse him. He averted 
 his eyes and, gazing out over the harbour, muttered — 
 or seemed to mutter, for I could not catch the answer 
 distinctly — that he had been visiting some friends ; 
 and so for a moment or two we waited at a deadlock. 
 Indeed, there is no knowing how long it might 
 have lasted — for Captain Branscome made no sign 
 of turning again and facing me— but, happening 
 just then to glance along the terrace, I caught 
 sight of Mrs. Stimcoe returning with long, masculine 
 strides. 
 
 She held an open letter in her hand, and was 
 perusing it as she came. 
 
 " It's for you," she announced, coming to a stand- 
 still under the window and speaking up to me after 
 a curt nod towards Captain Branscome — "from Miss 
 Plinlimmon; and you'd best come down and hear 
 what it says, for it's serious." 
 
 I should here explain that Mr. and Mrs. Stimcoe 
 made a practice of reading all letters received or 
 despatched by us. It was a part of the system. 
 
 " I picked it up at the post-office on my way,"
 
 NEWS 87 
 
 she explained, as I presented myself at the front door 
 and put out a hand for the letter. " Look here, 
 Harry : I know you to be a brave boy. You must 
 pull yourself together, and be as brave as ever you 
 can. Your father " 
 
 " What about my father ? " I asked, taking the 
 letter and staring into her face. "Has anything 
 happened ? Is he — is he dead ? " 
 
 Mrs. Stimcoe lifted her hand and lowered it again, 
 at the same moment bowing her head with a meaning 
 I could not mistake. I gazed dizzily at Captain 
 Branscome, and the look on his face told me — I 
 cannot tell you how — that he knew what the letter 
 had to tell, and had been expecting it. The hand- 
 writing was indeed Miss Plinlimmon's, although it 
 ran across the paper in an agitated scrawl most unlike 
 her usual neat Italian penmanship. 
 
 " My dearest Haery, 
 
 " You must come home to me at once, and 
 by the first coach. I cannot tell you what has 
 happened save this — that you must not look to see 
 your father alive. We dwell in the midst of alarms 
 which A. Selkirk preferred to the solitude of Juan 
 Fernandez ; but in this I differ from him totally, 
 and so will you when you hear what we have gone 
 through. Come at once, Harry, with the bravest 
 heart you can summon. Such is the earnest prayer of 
 " Your sincere friend in affliction, 
 
 "Amelia Plinlimmon. 
 " P.S. — Pray ask Mrs. Stimcoe to be kind enough
 
 88 POISON ISLAND 
 
 to advance the fare if your pocket-money will not 
 suffice." 
 
 "' And I doubt if there's two shillings in the 
 house ! " commented Mrs. Stimcoe, candid for once, 
 " and God knows what I can pawn ! " 
 
 Captain Branscome plunged his hand into his 
 pocket and drew out a guinea. Captain Branscome — 
 who, to the knowledge of both of us, never had a 
 shilling in his pocket — stood there nervously proffer- 
 ing me a guinea !
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE CRIME IN THE SUMMER-HOUSE 
 
 Mrs. Stimcoe, having begged Captain Branscorae to 
 take watch for a while over the invalid, and having 
 helped me to pack a few clothes in a handbag, herself 
 accompanied me to the coach-office, where we found 
 the Koyal Mail on the point of starting. The outside 
 passengers, four in number, had already taken their 
 seats — two on the box beside the coachman, and two 
 on the seat immediately behind ; and by the light of 
 the lamp overhanging the entry I perceived that 
 their heads were together in close conversation, in 
 which the coachman himself from time to time took a 
 share, slewing round to listen or interject a word and 
 anon breaking off to direct the stowage of a parcel or 
 call an order to the stable-boys. Mrs. Stimcoe had 
 stepped into the office to book my place, and while I 
 waited for her, watching the preparations for de- 
 parture, my curiosity led me forward to take a look at 
 the horses. There, under the lamp, the coachman 
 caught sight of me. 
 
 " Whe-ew ! " I heard him whistle. " Here's the 
 boy himself ! Going along wi' us, sonny ? " he asked, 
 
 89
 
 90 rOISON ISLAND 
 
 looking down on me and speaking down in a voice 
 which seemed to me unnaturally gentle — for I re- 
 membered him as a gruff fellow and irascible. The 
 outside passengers at once broke off their talk to lean 
 over and take stock of me ; and this again struck me 
 as queer. 
 
 " Jim ! " called the coachman (Jim was the guard). 
 " Jim ! " 
 
 " Ay, ay ! " answered Jim, from the back of the roof, 
 where he was arranging the mail-bags. 
 
 " Here's an outside extry." He lowered his voice, 
 so that I caught only these words : " The youngster 
 . . . Minden Cottage ... I reckoned they'd be 
 sending " 
 
 "Hey?" 
 
 Jim the guard bent over for a look at me, and 
 scrambled down by the steps of his dickey, just as 
 Mrs. Stimcoe emerged from the office. She was pale 
 and agitated, and stood for a moment gazing about her 
 distractedly, when Jim blundered against her, whereat 
 she put out a hand and spoke to him. I saw Jim 
 fall back a step and touch his hat. He was listening, 
 with a very serious face. I could not hear what she 
 said. 
 
 " Cert'nly, ma'am," he answered. " Cert'nly, under 
 the circumstances, you may depend on me." 
 
 He mounted the coach [again, and, climbing for- 
 ward, whispered in the back of the coachman's ear. 
 The passengers bent their heads to listen. They 
 nodded; the coachman nodded too, and stretched 
 down a hand.
 
 THE CRIME IN THE SUMMER-HOUSE 01 
 
 " Can you climb, sonny, or shall we fetch the steps 
 for you ? There, I reckoned you was more of a man 
 than to need 'em ! " 
 
 Mrs. Stimcoe detained me for a moment to fold me 
 in a masculine hug. But her bosom might have been 
 encased in an iron corselet for all the tenderness it 
 conveyed. " God bless you, Harry Brooks, and try to 
 be a man ! " Her embrace relaxed, and with a dry- 
 sounding sob she let me go as I caught the coach- 
 man's hand and was swung up to my seat ; and 
 with that we were off and up the cobble-paved street 
 at a rattle. 
 
 I do not know the names of my fellow-passengers. 
 Now and then one would bend forward and whisper to 
 his neighbour, who answered with a grunt or a motion 
 of his head ; but for the most part, and for mile after 
 mile, we all sat silent, listening only to the horses' 
 gallop, the chime of the swingle-bars, the hum of the 
 night wind in our ears. The motion and the strong 
 breeze together lulled me little by little into a doze. 
 My neighbour on the right wore around his shoulders a 
 woollen shawl, against which after a while I found my 
 cheek resting, and begged his pardon. He entreated 
 me not to mention it, but to make myself comfort- 
 able ; and thereupon I must have fallen fast asleep. 
 I awoke as the coach came to a standstill. Were we 
 pulling up to change teams ? No ; we were on the 
 dark high-road, between hedges. Straight ahead of 
 us blazed two carriage-lamps ; and a man's voice was 
 hailing. I recognized the voice at once. It belonged 
 to a Mr. Jack Eogers, a rory-tory young squire and
 
 02 POISON ISLAND 
 
 justice of the peace of our neighbourhood, and the 
 lamps must be those of his famous light tilbury. 
 
 " Hallo ! " he was shouting. " Koyal Mail, 
 ahoy!" 
 
 " Koyal Mail it is ! " shouted back the coachman 
 and Jim the guard together. 
 
 •' Got the boy Brooks aboard ? " 
 
 *' Ay, ay, 3Ir. Rogers ! D'ye want him ? " 
 
 " No ; you'll take him along quicker. My mare's 
 fagged, and I drove along in case the letter missed 
 fire." He came forward at a foot's pace, and pulled 
 up under the light of our lamps. "Hallo! is that 
 you, Harry Brooks ? " He peered up at me out of the 
 night. 
 
 " Yes, sir," I answered, my teeth chattering between 
 apprehension and the chill of the night. I longed 
 desperately to ask what had happened at home, but 
 tlie words would not come. 
 
 " Right you are, my lad ; and the first thing when 
 you get home, tell Miss Plinlimmon from me to fill 
 you up with vittles and a glass of hot brandy-and- 
 water. Give her that message, with Jack Rogers's 
 compliments, and tell her that I'm on the road making 
 inquiries, and may get so far as Truro. By the way " 
 — he turned to Jim the guard — '* you haven't met 
 anything that looked suspicious, eh ? " 
 
 " Nothing on the road at all," answered Jim. 
 
 *' Well, so-long ! Mustn't delay his Majesty's mails, 
 or waste time of my own. Good^night, Harry Brooks, 
 and remember to give my message ! Good night, 
 gentlemen all ! "
 
 THE CRIME IN THE SUMMER-HOUSE 93 
 
 He flicked at his mare. Our coachman gathered 
 up his reins, and away we went once more at a gallop 
 towards the dawn. The dawn lay cold about Minden 
 Cottage as we came in sight of it ; and at first, noting 
 that all the blinds were drawn, I thought the house- 
 hold must be asleep. Then I remembered, and 
 shivered as I rose from my seat, cramped and stiff 
 from the long journey, and so numb that Jim the 
 guard had to lift me down to the porch. Miss 
 Plinlimmon, red-eyed and tremulous, opened the door 
 to me, embraced me, and led me to the little parlour. 
 
 " Is — is my father dead ? " I asked, staring vacantly 
 around the room, and upon the table where she had 
 set out a breakfast. She bent over the urn for a 
 moment, and then, coming to me, took my hand and 
 drew me to the sofa. 
 
 " You must be brave, Harry." 
 
 " But what has happened ? And how did it 
 happen ? Was — was it sudden ? Please tell me, 
 Plinny ! " 
 
 She stroked my hand and shivered slightly, turning 
 her face away towards the window. 
 
 " We found him in the summer-house, dear. He 
 was lying face downward, across the step of the door- 
 way, and at first we supposed he had fallen forward in 
 a fit. Ann made the discovery, and came running to 
 me in the kitchen, when she had only time to cry out 
 the news before she was overtaken with hysterics. I 
 left her to them," went on Miss Plinlimmon, simply, 
 " and ran out to the summer-house, when by-and-by, 
 having pulled herself together, she followed me. By
 
 94 POISON ISLAND 
 
 this time it had fallen dusk — nay, it was almost dark, 
 which accounts for one not seeing at once what dread- 
 ful thing had happened. Your poor father, Harry — 
 as you know — used often to sit in the summer-house 
 until quite a late hour, but he had never before 
 dallied quite so late, and in the end I had sent Ann 
 out to remind him that supper was waiting. Well, as 
 you may suppose, he was heavy to lift ; and we two 
 women being alone in the house, I told Ann to run up 
 to the vicarage or to Miss Belcher's, and get word 
 sent for a doctor, and also to bring a couple of men, if 
 possible, to carry him into the house. I had scarcely 
 bidden her to do this when she cried out, screaming, 
 that her hand was damp, and with blood. ' You silly 
 woman ! ' said I, though trembling myself from head 
 to foot. But when we fetched a candle, we saw blood 
 running down the step, and your father — my poor 
 Harry ! — lying in a pool of it — a veritable pool of it. 
 Ah, Harry, Harry ! " exclaimed Miss Plinlimmon, re- 
 lapsing into that literary manner which was second 
 nature with her, " such a moment occurring in the 
 pages of fiction, may stimulate a sympathetic thrill 
 not entirely disagreeable to the reader, but in real 
 life I wouldn't go through it again if you offered me 
 a fortune." 
 
 " Plinny," I cried — " Plinny, what is this you are 
 telling me about blood ? " 
 
 " Your poor father, Harry But be sure their 
 
 sins will find them out ! ]\tr. Kogers is setting the 
 runners on their track — he is most kind. Already he 
 has had two hundred handbills printed. Wo are
 
 THE CRIME IN THE SUMMER-HOUSE 25 
 
 ofiering a hundred pounds reward — more if necessary — 
 and the whole country is up " 
 
 "Plinny dear" — I tried to steady my voice as I 
 stood and faced her — " are you trying to tell me that 
 — that my father has been murdered ? " 
 
 She bowed her head and cast her apron over it, 
 sobbing. 
 
 " Excuse me, Harry — but in such moments ! 
 
 And they have found the cashbox. It had been battered 
 open, presumably by a stone, and flung into the brook 
 a hundred yards below Miss Belcher's lodge-gate." 
 
 " The cashbox ? " My brain whirled. 
 
 "The key was in your father's pocket. He had 
 fetched the box from his room, it appears, about two 
 hours before, and carried it out to the summer-house. 
 I cannot tell you with what purpose he carried it out 
 there, but it was quite contrary to his routine." 
 
 She poured out a cup of tea, and passed it to me 
 with shaking hands. She pressed me to eat, and all 
 the time she kept talking, sometimes lucidly, some- 
 times quite incoherently ; and I listened in a kind of 
 dream. My father had been well-nigh a stranger to 
 me, and I divined that I should never sorrow for his 
 loss as those sorrow who have genuinely loved. But 
 his death, and the manner of it, shocked me dread- 
 fully, and from the shock my brain kept harking 
 away to Captain Coffin and his pursuer. Could they 
 have reached Minden Cottage ? And, if so, had their 
 visit any connection with this crime ? Captain Danny 
 had started for Minden Cottage. . . , Had he arrived ? 
 And, if so
 
 96 POISON ISLAND 
 
 I heard Miss Plinlimmou asking : " Would you 
 care to see him — that is, dear, if you feel strong 
 enough? His expression is wonderfully tranquil." 
 
 She led me upstairs and opened the door for me. 
 A sheet covered my father from feet to chin, and 
 above it his head lay back ou the pillow, his features, 
 clear-cut and aquiline, keeping that massive repose 
 which, though it might seem to be deeper now in the 
 shade of the darkened room, had always cowed me 
 while he lived. It seemed to me that my father's 
 death, though I ought to feel it more keenly, made 
 strangely little difference to liini. 
 
 " You will need sleep," said Plinny, who had been 
 waiting for me on the landing. 
 
 I told her that she might get my bed ready, but 
 1 would first take a turn in the garden. I tiptoed 
 downstairs. The floor of the summer-house had been 
 washed. The vane on its conical roof sparkled in the 
 sunlight. I stood before it, attempting to picture the 
 tragedy of which, here in the clear morning, it told 
 nothing to help me. My thoughts were still running 
 on Captain Coffin and the French prisoner. Plinny — 
 for I had questioned her cautiously — plainly knew 
 nothing of any such man. They might, however, 
 have entered by the side-gate. I stepped back under 
 the apple-tree by the flagstaff, measuring with my eye 
 the distance between this side-gate and the summer- 
 house. As I did so, my foot struck against something 
 in the tall grass under the tree, and I stooped and 
 picked it up— a pair of gold-rimmed eyeglasses!
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE BLOODSTAIN ON THE STILE 
 
 My father, in erecting a flagstaff before his summer- 
 house, had chosen to plant it on a granite millstone, 
 or, rather, had sunk its base through the stone's 
 central hole, which Miss Plinlimmon regularly filled 
 with salt to keep the wood from rotting. Upon this 
 mossed and weather-worn bench I sat myself down 
 to examine my find. 
 
 Yet it needed no examination to tell me that 
 the eyeglasses were Captain Branscome's. I recog- 
 nized the delicate cable pattern of their gold rims, 
 glinting in the sunlight. I recognized the ring and 
 the frayed scrap of black ribbon attached to it. I 
 remembered the guinea with which Captain Brans- 
 come had paid my fare on the coach. I remembered 
 Miss Plinlimmon's account of the stolen cashbox. 
 
 The more my suspicions grew, the more they were 
 incredible. That Captain Branscome, of all men in 
 the world, should be guilty of such a crime ! And 
 yet, with this damning evidence in my hand, I could 
 not but recall a dozen trifles — mere straws, to be 
 sure — all pointing towards him. He had been here 
 
 97 H
 
 98 POISON ISLAND 
 
 in my father's garden : that I might take as proven. 
 With what object? And if that object were an 
 innocent one, why had he not told me of his in- 
 tention to visit Minden Cottage ? I remembered how 
 straitly he had cross-examined me, a while ago, on 
 the topography of the cottage, on my father's house- 
 hold and his habits. Again, if his visit had been 
 an innocent one, why, last evening, had he said 
 nothing of it? Why, when I questioned him about 
 his holiday, had he answered me so confusedly ? 
 Yet again, I recalled his demeanour when Mrs. 
 Stimcoe handed me the letter, and the impression 
 it gave me — so puzzling at the moment — that he 
 had foreknowledge of the news. If this incredible 
 thing were true — if Captain Branscome were the 
 criminal — the puzzle ceased to be a puzzle; the 
 guinea and the broken cashbox were only too fatally 
 accounted for. 
 
 Nevertheless, and in spite of the guinea, in spite 
 even of the eyeglass there in my hand, I could not 
 bring myself to believe. What ? Captain Branscome, 
 the simple-minded, the heroic? Captain Branscome, 
 of the threadbare coat and the sword of honour? 
 Poor he was, no doubt — bitterly poor — poor almost 
 to starvation at times. To what might not a man 
 be driven by poverty in this degree ? And here was 
 evidence for judge and jury. 
 
 I glanced around me and, folding the eyeglasses 
 together in a fumbling haste, slipped them into my 
 breeches-pocket. From my seat beneath the flagstaff 
 I looked straight into the doorway of the summer-
 
 THE BLOODSTAIN ON THE STILE 99 
 
 house; but a creeper obscured its rustic window, 
 dimming the light within; and a terror seized me 
 that some one was concealed there, watching me — a 
 terror not unlike that which had held me in Captain 
 Coffin's lodgings. 
 
 While I stood there, summoning up courage to 
 invade the summer-house and make sure, my brain 
 harked back to Captain Coffin and the man Aaron 
 Glass. Captain Coffin had taken leave of me in a 
 fever to reach Minden Cottage. That was close on 
 sixty hours ago — three nights and two days. Why, 
 in that ample time, had he not arrived, and what 
 had become of him ? Plinny had seen no such man. 
 
 I fetched a tight grip on my courage, walked across 
 to the doorway, and peered into the summer-house. 
 It was empty, and I stepped inside — superstitiously 
 avoiding, as I did so, to tread on the spot where my 
 father's body had lain. 
 
 Ann the cook — so Plinny told me — had found his 
 chair overset behind him, but no other sign of a 
 struggle. He had been stabbed in front, high on 
 the left breast and a little below the collar-bone, 
 and must have toppled forward at once across the 
 step, and died where he fell. The chair had been 
 righted and set in place, perhaps by Ann when she 
 washed down the step. A well-defined line across 
 the floor showed where the cleaning had begun, and 
 behind it the scanty furniture of the place had not 
 been disturbed. At the back, in one corner stood an 
 old drum, with dust and droppings of leaf-mould in 
 the wrinkles of its sagged parchment, and dust upon
 
 100 POISON ISLAND 
 
 the drumsticks thrust within its frayed strapping ; 
 in the corner opposite an old military chest which 
 held the bunting for the flagstaff — a Union flag, a 
 couple of ensigns, and half a dozen odd square- 
 signals and pennants. I stooped over this, and as 
 I did so I observed that there were finger-marks on 
 the dust at the edge of the lid ; but, lifting it, found 
 the flags inside neatly rolled and stowed in order. 
 On the table lay my father's Bible and his pocket 
 Virgil, the latter open and laid face downwards. 
 I picked it up, and the next moment came near to 
 dropping it again with a shiver, for a dry smear of 
 blood crossed the two pages. 
 
 Here, not to complicate mysteries, let me tell at 
 once what Ann told me later — that she had found 
 the book lying in the blood-dabbled grass before the 
 step, when it must have fallen from my father's 
 hand, and had replaced it upon the table. But for 
 the moment, surmising another clue, I stared at the 
 page — a page of the seventh " ^neid " — and at the 
 stain which, as if to underline them, started beneath 
 the words — 
 
 " Hie domus, haeo patria est, Genitor mihi talia namquc 
 (Nunc repeto) Anchises fatorum arcana reliquit." 
 
 I set down the book as I had found it, and 
 stepped forth again into the sunshine. The scouring 
 of the step had left a moist puddle below it, where 
 the ground, no doubt, had been dry and hard on the 
 evening of the murder. At the edge of this puddle 
 the turf twinkled with clean dew — close, well-trimmed
 
 THE BLOODSTAIN ON THE STILE 101 
 
 turf sloping gently to the stream which formed the 
 real boundary of the garden ; but Miss Belcher, the 
 neighbouring landowner, a jDerson of great wealth 
 and the most eccentric good-nature, had allowed my 
 father to build a wall on the far side, for privacy, 
 and had granted him an entrance through it to her 
 park — a narrow wooden door to which a miniature 
 bridge gave access across the stream. 
 
 There were thus three ways of approaching the 
 summer-house : (1) by the path which wound through 
 the garden from the house ; (2) across the turf from 
 the side-gate, which opened out of a lane, or wood- 
 cutters' road, running at right angles from the 
 turnpike and alongside the garden fence towards the 
 park ; and (3) from the park itself, across the little 
 bridge. From the bridge a straight line to the 
 summer-house would lie behind the angle of sight 
 of any one seated within ; so that a visitor, stepping 
 with caution, might present himself at the doorway 
 without any warning. 
 
 You may say that, my father being blind, it need 
 not have entered into my calculations whether his 
 assailant had approached in full view of the doorway 
 or from the rear. But the assailant — let us suppose 
 for a moment — was some one ignorant of my father's 
 blindness. This granted, as it was at least possible, 
 he would be likeliest to steal upon the summer-house 
 from the rear. I cannot say more than, that, standing 
 there by the doorway, I felt the approach from the 
 streamside to be most dangerous, and therefore the 
 likeliest.
 
 102 POISON ISLAND 
 
 In a few minutes, as I well knew, Plinny would 
 be coming in search of me, to persuade me back to 
 the house to breakfast and bed. I stepped down to 
 the streamside, where the beehives stood in a row 
 on the brink, paused for a moment to listen to the 
 hum within them, and note that the bees were making 
 ready to swarm, crossed the bridge, and tried the 
 rusty hasp of the door. It yielded stiffly ; but as I 
 pulled the door inwards it brushed aside a mass of 
 spider's web, white and matted, that could not be 
 less than a month old. Also it brushed a clump of 
 ivy overgrowing the lintel, and shook down about 
 half an ounce of powdery dust into my hair and 
 eyes. I scarcely troubled to look through. Clearly, 
 the door had not been opened for many weeks — 
 possibly not since my last holidays. 
 
 I recrossed the bridge and inspected the side- 
 gate. This opened, as I have said, upon a lane 
 never used but by the woodmen on Miss Belcher's 
 estate, and by them very seldom. It entered the 
 park by a stone bridge across the stream and by a 
 ruinous gate, the gaps of which had been patched 
 with furze faggots. The roadway itself was carpeted 
 with last year's leaves from a coppice across the 
 lane — leaves which the winter's rains had beaten 
 into a black compost; and abnost facing the side- 
 gate was a stile whence a tangled footpath led into 
 the coppice. 
 
 I had stepped out into the lane, and was staring 
 over the stile into the green gloom of the coppice, 
 when I heard Plinny's voice calling to me from the
 
 THE BLOODSTAIN ON THE STILE 103 
 
 house, and I had half turned to hail in answer when 
 my eyes fell on the upper bar of the stile. 
 
 Across the edge of it ran a dark brown smear — 
 a smear which I recognized for dried blood. 
 
 " Harry ! Harry dear ! " 
 
 *'Plinny!" I raced back through the garden, 
 and almost fell into her arms as she came along the 
 path between the currant-bushes in search of me. 
 '' Plinny — oh, Plinny ! " I gasped. 
 
 " My dear child, what has happened ? " 
 
 Before I could answer there came wafted to our ears 
 from eastward a sound of distant shouting, and almost 
 simultaneously, from the high-road near at hand, the 
 trit-trot of hoofs approaching at great speed from 
 westward, and the " Who-oop ! " of a man's voice, 
 lusty on the morning air. 
 
 " That will be Mr. Jack Kogers," said Plinny. " He 
 brings us news, for certain ! Yes ; he is reining up." 
 
 AVe ran through the house together, and reached 
 the front door in time to witness a most extraordinary 
 scene. 
 
 Mr. Jack Kogers's tilbury had run past the house 
 and come to a halt a short gunshot beyond, where 
 it stood driverless— for Mr. Jack Kogers had dis- 
 mounted, and was gesticulating with both arms to 
 stop a man racing down the road to meet him. A 
 moment later, as this runner came on, a second 
 hove in sight over the rise of the road behind him — a 
 short figure, so stout and round that in the distance 
 it resembled not so much a man as a ball rolling 
 in pursuit.
 
 104 POISON ISLAND 
 
 "Hi! Stop, you there!" shouted Mr. Rogers; 
 but the first runner might have been deaf, for all 
 the attention he paid. 
 
 " Good Lord ! " said I, catching my breath ; " it's 
 Mr. George Goodfellow ! " 
 
 " In the King's name ! " Mr. Rogers shouted, 
 making a dash to intercept him. And a moment later 
 the two had collided, and were rolling in the dust 
 together. 
 
 I ran towards them, with Plinny — brave soul ! — 
 at my heels, and arrived to find Mr. Rogers, hatless 
 and exceedingly dishevelled, kneeling with both 
 hands around the neck of his prostrate antagonist, 
 and holding his face down in the dust. 
 
 "You'd best stand up and come along quietly," 
 Mr. Rogers adjured him. 
 
 "Gug-gug — how the devil c-can I stand up if 
 you won't lul-lul-let me ? " protested Mr. Goodfellow, 
 reasonably enough. 
 
 "Very well, then." Mr. Rogers relaxed his grip. 
 " Stand up 1 But you're my prisoner, so let's have no 
 more nonsense ! " 
 
 "I'd like to know what's taken ye to pitch into 
 a man like this ? " demanded Mr. Goodfellow in a 
 tone of great umbrage, as he shook the dust out of 
 his coat and hair. "A fellow I never seen before, 
 not to my knowledge ! Why — hallo ! " said he, 
 looking up and catching sight of me. 
 
 "Hallo! "said I. 
 
 "Hallo!" said Mr. Rogers, in his turn. "Do 
 you two know each other ? "
 
 THE BLOODSTAIN ON THE STILE 105 
 
 " Why, of course we do ! " said Mr. Goodfellow. 
 
 " I don't know where * of course ' comes in." Mr. 
 Eogers eyed him with stern suspicion. " Why were 
 you running away from the constable ? " 
 
 Mr. Goodfellow glanced towards the stout, round 
 man, who by this time had drawn near, mopping, 
 as he came, a face as red as the red waistcoat he 
 wore. 
 
 " Him a constable ? Why, I took him for a 
 loonatic ! They put the loonatics into them coloured 
 weskits, don't they ? " 
 
 "Nothing of the sort. Fou're thinking of the 
 warders," Mr. Eogers answered. 
 
 " Oh ? Then I made a mistake," said Mr. Good- 
 fellow, cheerfully, 
 
 " Look here, my friend, if you're thinking to play 
 this off as a joke you'll find it no joking matter. 
 Madam" — he turned to Miss Plinlimmon — "is this 
 the man who called at the cottage two days 
 ago." 
 
 "Yes," answered Plinny ; "and once before, as I 
 remember." 
 
 " And on each occasion did you observe something 
 strange in his manner ? " 
 
 " Very strange indeed. He kept asking questions 
 about the house and the garden, and the position of 
 the rooms, and about poor Major Brooks, and what 
 rent he paid, and if he was well-to-do. And he 
 took out a measure from his pocket and began to 
 calculate " 
 
 "Quite so." Mr. Eogers turned next to the
 
 106 POISON ISLAND 
 
 constable. "Hoskeu," he asked, "you have been 
 making inquiries about this man ? " 
 
 "I have, sir; all along the road, so far as 
 Torpoint Ferry." 
 
 "And you learnt enough to justify you in arresting 
 him?" 
 
 "Ample, y'r worship. There wasn't a public- 
 house along the road but thought his behaviour 
 highly peculiar. He's a well-known character, an' 
 the questions he asks you would be surprised. He 
 plies between Falmouth and Plymouth, sir, once a 
 week regular. So, actin' on information that he 
 might be expected along early this morning, I con- 
 cealed myself in the hedge, sir, the best part of two 
 miles back " 
 
 "You didn't," interrupted Mr. Goodfellow. "I 
 saw your red stomach between the bushes thirty 
 yards before ever I came to it, and wondered what 
 mischief you was up to. I'm wondering still." 
 
 "At any rate, you are detained, sir, upon sus- 
 picion," said Mr. Eogers sharply, " and will come 
 with us to the cottage and submit to be searched." 
 
 " Brooks," asked Mr. Goodfellow, feebly, " what's 
 wrong with 'em ? And what are you doing here ? " 
 
 "Mr. Eogers," I broke in, "I know this man. 
 His name is Goodfellow ; he lives at Falmouth ; and 
 you are wrong, quite wrong, in suspecting him. But 
 what is more, Mr, Kogers, you are wasting time. 
 There's blood on the stile down the lane. Whoever 
 broke into the garden must have escaped that way — 
 by the path through the plantation "
 
 THE BLOODSTAIN ON THE STILE 107 
 
 "Eh?" Mr. Eogers jumped at me and caught 
 me by the arm. "Why the devil — you'll excuse 
 me, Miss Plinlimmon — but why on earth, child, if 
 you have news, couldn't you have told it at once? 
 Blood on the stile, you say ? What stile ? " 
 
 " The stile down the lane, sir," I answered, point- 
 ing. " And I couldn't tell you before because you 
 didn't give me time." 
 
 " Show us the way, quick ! And you, Hosken, 
 catch hold of the mare and lead her round to ]\Iiss 
 Belcher's stables. Or, stay — she's dead beat. You 
 can help me slip her out of the shafts and tether 
 her by the gate yonder. That's right, man ; but 
 don't tie her up too tight. Give her room to bite 
 a bit of grass, and she'll wait here quiet as a 
 lamb." 
 
 *' What about the prisoner, sir ? " asked the stolid 
 Hosken. 
 
 " D n the prisoner ! " answered Mr. Eogers, 
 
 testily, in the act of unharnessing. " Slip the hand- 
 cuffs on him. And you. Miss Plinlimmon, will return 
 to the cottage, if you please." 
 
 " I'd like to come, too, if I may," put in Mr. 
 Goodfellow. 
 
 "Eh?" Mr. Eogers, in the act of rolling up one 
 of the traces, stared at him with frank admiration. 
 "Well, you're a sportsman, anyhow. Catch hold of 
 his arm, Hosken, and run him along with us. Yes, 
 sir, though I say it as a justice of the peace, be 
 
 d d to me, but I like your spirit. And with the 
 
 gallows staring you in the face, too ! "
 
 108 POISON ISLAND 
 
 "Gallows? What gallows?" panted Mr. Good- 
 fellow in my ear a few moments later, as we tore in 
 a body down the lane. 
 
 " Hush ! " I panted in answer. " It's all a 
 mistake." 
 
 "It ought to be." AVe drew up by the stile, 
 where I pointed to the smear of blood, and Mr. 
 Eogers, calling to Hosken to follow him, dashed 
 into the coppice and down the path into the rank 
 undergrowth. I, too, was lifting a leg to throw it 
 over the bar, when Mr. Goodfellow plucked me by 
 the arm. "Terrible hasty friends you keep in these 
 parts, Brooks," he said plaintively. " What's it all 
 about ? " 
 
 " Why, murder ! " said I. " Haven't you heard, 
 man ? " 
 
 " Not a syllable ! Good Lord, you don't mean " 
 
 He passed a shaky hand over his forehead as a cry 
 rang back to us through the coppice. 
 
 " Here, Hosken, this way ! Oh, by the Almighty, 
 be quick, man ! " 
 
 I vaulted over the stile, Mr. Goodfellow close 
 after me. For two hundred yards and more — three 
 hundred, maybe — we blundered and crashed through 
 the low-growing hazels, and came suddenly to a 
 horrified stand. 
 
 A little to the left of the path, between it and 
 the stream, Mr. Eogers and the constable knelt 
 together over the body of a man half hidden in a 
 tangle of brambles. 
 
 The corpse's feet pointed towards the path, and
 
 THE BLOODSTAIN ON THE vSTILE 109 
 
 I recognized the shoes, as also the sea-cloth trousers, 
 before Mr. Eogers — cursing in his hurry rather than 
 at the pain of his lacerated hands — tore the brambles 
 aside and revealed its face — the face of Captain Coffin, 
 blue-cold in death and staring up from its pillow of 
 rotted leaves. 
 
 I felt myself reeling. But it was Mr. Goodfellow 
 who reeled against me, and would have fallen if 
 Hosken the constable had not sprung upon one knee 
 and caught him. 
 
 " If you ask my opinion," I heard Hosken saying 
 as he raised himself and held Mr. Goodfellow upright, 
 steadying him, " tis a case o' guilty conscience, an' 
 I never in my experience saw a clearer."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 CLUES IN A TANGLE 
 
 " Guilty or not," said Mr. Jack Kogers, sharply, " I'll 
 take care he doesn't escape. Run you down to Miss 
 Belcher's kennels, and fetch along a couple of men 
 — any one you can pick up — to help. And don't 
 make a noise as you go past the cottage ; the women 
 there are frightened enough already. Come to think 
 of it, I heard some fellows at work as I drove by 
 just now, thinning timber in the plantation under 
 the kennels. Off with you, man, and don't stand 
 gaping like a stuck pig ! " 
 
 Thus adjured. Constable Hosken ran, leaving us 
 three to watch the body. 
 
 " The man's pockets have been rifled, that's plain 
 enough," Mr. Eogers muttered, as he bent over it 
 again, and with that I suppose I must have made 
 some kind of exclamation, for he looked up at me, 
 still with a horrified frown. 
 
 " Hallo ! You know him ? " 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 "His name's Co£Sn. He came here from Fal- 
 mouth." 
 
 110
 
 CLUES IN A TANGLE 111 
 
 For a moment Mr. Kogers did not appear to 
 catch the words. His eyes travelled from my face 
 to Mr. Groodfellow's. 
 
 "You, too?" 
 
 " Knew him intimate. Know him ? Why, I live 
 but two doors away from him in the same court." 
 
 "Look here," said Mr. Eogers, slowly, after a 
 pause, " this is a black business, and a curst mysterious 
 one, and I wasn't born with the gift of seeing day- 
 light through a brick wall. But speaking as a 
 magistrate, Mr. What's-your-name, I ought to warn 
 you against saying what may be used for evidence. 
 As for you, lad, you'd best tell as much as you 
 know. What d'ye say his name was? " 
 
 "Coffin, sir." 
 
 "H'm, he's earned it. The back of his head's 
 smashed all to pieces. Lived in Falmouth, you 
 say ? And you knew him there ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Then what was he doing in these parts ? " 
 
 " He started to call on my father, sir." 
 
 " Eh ? You knew of his coming ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. We planned it together," 
 
 Mr. Eogers, still on his knees, leaned back and 
 regarded me fixedly. 
 
 " You planned it together ? " he repeated sloAvly. 
 " Well, go on. He started to call on your father ? 
 Why? 
 
 " He wanted to show my father something," said I, 
 with a glance at Mr. Goodfellow. " Arc you sure, sir, 
 there's nothing in his pockets ? "
 
 112 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " Not a penny-piece. I'll search 'em again if you 
 insist, though I don't like the job." 
 
 " He carried it in his breast-pocket, sir ; there, on 
 the left side." 
 
 " Then your question's easy to answer." Mr. 
 Eogers turned back the lapel and pointed. The 
 pocket hung inside out. "But what was it he 
 carried ? " 
 
 I hesitated, with another glance towards Mr. 
 Goodfellow, who at the same moment uttered a cry 
 and sprang for a thicket of brambles directly behind 
 Mr. Rogers's back. Mr. Rogers leapt up, with an 
 oath. 
 
 "No, you don't!" he threatened, preparing to 
 spring in pursuit. 
 
 But Mr. Goodfellow, not heeding him, plunged a 
 hand among the brambles and drew forth a walking- 
 stick of ebony, carved in rings, ending wdth a ferrule 
 in an iron spike — Captain CoflBn's walking-stick. 
 
 "I glimpsed at it, there, lyin' like a snake," he 
 began, and let fall the stick with another sudden, 
 sharp cry. " Ur-rh ! There's blood upon it ! " 
 
 Mr. Rogers picked it up and examined it loathingly. 
 Blood there was — blood mixed with grey hairs upon 
 its heavy ebony knob, and blood again upon its 
 wicked-looking spike. 
 
 " This settles all question of the weapon," he said. 
 " The owner of this " 
 
 We cried out, speaking together, that the stick 
 belonged to the murdered man ; and just then a 
 voice hailed us, and Constable Hosken came panting
 
 CLUES IN A TANGLE 113 
 
 up, with two of Miss Belcher's woodmen at his 
 heels. 
 
 Mr. Rogers directed them to fetch a hurdle. 
 Then came the question whither to carry the corpse, 
 and after some discussion one of the woodmen 
 suggested that Miss Belcher's cricket pavilion lay 
 handy, a couple of hundred yards beyond the rise of 
 the park, across the stream. " At this time of year 
 the lady wouldn't object " 
 
 Mr. Rogers shuddered. 
 
 " And the last time I saw the inside of it 'twas at 
 Lydia's Cricket- Week Ball — and the place all flags 
 and lanterns, and a good third of the men drunk ! 
 Well, carry him there if you must, but damme if I'll 
 ever find stomach to dance there again ! " 
 
 The men lifted their burden and carried it out into 
 the lane, where the rest of us pulled away the furze- 
 bushes stopping the gate into the park, and so 
 followed the body up the green slope towards the rise, 
 over which, as we climbed, the thatched roof of the 
 pavilion slowly hove into sight. 
 
 " Hallo ! " Mr. Rogers halted and stared at the 
 bearers, who also had halted. " What the devil noise 
 is that ? " 
 
 The noise was that of a sudden blow or impact 
 upon timber. After about thirty seconds it was 
 repeated, and our senses told us that it came from 
 within the pavilion. 
 
 " I reckon, sir," suggested one of the woodmen, 
 " 'tis Miss Belcher practising." 
 
 " Good Lord ! Come with us, Harry — the rest stay 
 
 I
 
 114 POISON ISLAND 
 
 where you are," Mr. Rogers commanded, and ran 
 towards tlie pavilion; and as we started I heard a 
 whizzing and cracking within, as of machinery, 
 followed by a double crack of timber. 
 
 " Lydia ! Lydia Belcher ! " 
 
 " Hey ! What's the matter now ? " I heard llisa 
 Belcher's voice demand, as he burst in through the 
 doorway. " Take care, the catapult's loaded ! " A 
 whiz, and again a crack. " There now ! Oh, well 
 
 fielded, indeed! AVell, fiel Eh? Caught you 
 
 on the ankle, did it? Well, and you're lucky it 
 didn't find your skull, blundering in upon a body in 
 this fashion." 
 
 The first sight that met me as I reached the door- 
 way was Mr. Jack Eogers holding one foot and 
 hopping around with a face of agony. From him my 
 astonished gaze travelled to Miss Lydia Belcher, 
 whom I must pause to describe. 
 
 I have hinted before that Miss Belcher was an 
 eccentric ; but I certainly cannot have prepared tlie 
 reader — as I was certainly unprepared myself — for 
 Miss Belcher as we surprised her. 
 
 She wore top-boots ; but this is a trifle, for she 
 liabitually wore top-boots. Upon them, and beneath 
 tlie short skirt of a red flannel petticoat, she had 
 indued a pair of cricket-guards. Above the red 
 flannel petticoat came, frank and unashamed, an 
 ample pair of stays ; above them, the front of a yet 
 ampler chemise and a yellow bandana kerchief tied 
 in a sailor's knot ; above these, a middle-aged face 
 full of character and not without a touch of moustache
 
 CLUES IN A TANGLE 115 
 
 on tlie ui^per lip ; an aquiline nose, grey eyes that 
 apologized to nobody, a broad brow to balance a broad, 
 square jaw, and, on the top of all, a square-topped 
 beaver hat. So stood Miss Belcher, with a cricket- 
 bat under her arm ; an Englishwoman, owner of one 
 of England's " stately homes " ; a lady amenable to 
 few laws save of her own making, and to no man save 
 — remotely — the King, whose health she drank some- 
 times in port and sometimes in gin-and-water. 
 
 " Good morning, Jack ! Sorry to cut you over 
 with that off-drive ; but you shouldn't have come in 
 without knocking. Eh? Is that Harry Brooks ?" 
 Her face grew grave for a moment before she 
 turned upon Mr. Rogers that smile which, if usually 
 latent and at the best not entirely feminine, was her 
 least dubitable charm. " Now, uj)on my word, Jack, 
 you have more though tfulness than ever I gave you 
 credit for." 
 
 Mr. Rogers stared at her. 
 
 " An hour's knockabout with me will do the child 
 more good than moping in the house, and I ought to 
 have thought of it myself. Come along, Harry 
 Brooks, and play me a match at single Avicket. Help 
 me push away ,the catapult there into the corner. 
 Will you take first innings, or shall we toss ? " 
 
 The catapult indicated by Miss Belcher was a 
 formidable-looking engine with an iron arm or rod 
 terminating in a spoon-shaped socket, and worked by 
 a contrivance of crank and chain. You placed your 
 cricket-ball in the socket, and then, having wound 
 up the crank and drawn a pin which released the
 
 116 POISON ISLAND 
 
 machinery, had just time to run back and defend your 
 wicket as the iron rod revolved and discharged the 
 ball with a jerk. The rod itself worked on a slide, 
 and could be shortened or extended to vary the 
 trajectory, and the exercise it entailed in one way and 
 another had given Miss Belcher's cheeks a fine 
 healthy glow. 
 
 " Phew ! " she exclaimed, tucking the bat under 
 her arm and wiping her forehead with a loose end of 
 her yellow bandana. " I'm feelin' like the lady in 
 ' The Vicar of Wakefield ' ; by which I don't mean 
 the one that stooped to folly, but the one that was all 
 of a muck of sweat." 
 
 " My dear Lydia, " gasped Mr. Rogers, " we haven't 
 come to play cricket ! Put down your bat and listen 
 to me. There's the devil to pay in this parish of 
 yours. To begin with, we've found another body " 
 
 "Eh? Where?" 
 
 "In the plantation under the slope here — close 
 beside the path, and about two gunshots off the lane." 
 
 " What have you done with it ? " 
 
 " Two of your fellows are fetching it along. I was 
 going to ask you as a favour to let it lie here for the 
 time while we follow up the search." 
 
 " Of course you may. But who is it ? " 
 
 " An old man in sea clothes. Harry knows him ; 
 says he hails from Falmouth, and that his name is 
 Coffin. And we've arrested a young fellow on 
 suspicion, though I begin to think he hasn't much to 
 do with it ; but, as it happens, he comes from Falmouth 
 too, and knows the deceased."
 
 CLUES IN A TANGLE 117 
 
 Miss Belcher hitched an old riding-skirt off a peg 
 and indued it over her red flannel petticoat, 
 fastening it about her waist with a leathern strap and 
 buckle. 
 
 " Well, the first thing is to fetch the body along, 
 and then I'll go down with you and have a look." 
 
 " I've halted the men about a hundred yards down 
 the hill. I thought perhaps you'd step straight along 
 with me to the house, so as to be out of the way when 
 
 they But anyhow, if you insist on coming, we 
 
 can fetch across the cricket-field and down to the left, 
 so that you needn't meet it." 
 
 " Bless the man ! " — Miss Belcher had turned to 
 another peg, taken down a loose weather-stained 
 gardening-jacket, and was slipping an arm into the 
 sleeve—" you don't suppose, do you, that I'm the sort 
 of person to be scared by a dead body ? Open the 
 door, please, and lead the way. This is a serious busi- 
 ness. Jack, and I doubt if you have the head for it." 
 
 Sure enough, the sight of the dead body on the 
 hurdle shook Miss Belcher's nerve not at all, or, at 
 any rate, not discernibly. 
 
 " Humph ! " she said. " Take him to the pavilion 
 and cover him decently. You'll find a yard or two of 
 clean awning in the left-hand corner of the scoring- 
 box." She eyed ]\Ir. Goodfellow for a couple of 
 seconds and swung round upon Mr. Eogers. "Is 
 that the man you've arrested ? " 
 
 Mr. Eogers nodded. 
 
 " Fiddlestick-end ! " 
 
 " I beg your pardon ? "
 
 118 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " Fiddlestick-end ! Look at the man's face. And 
 you call yourself a justice of the peace ? " 
 
 " It was thrust upon me," said Mr. Rogers, modestly. 
 " I don't say he's guilty, mind you ; and, of course, if 
 you say he isn't " 
 
 " Look at his face ! " repeated Miss Belcher ; and, 
 turning, addressed Mr. Goodfellow. " My good man, 
 you hadn't any hand in this — eh ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am ; in course I hadn't," Mr. Goodfellow 
 answered fervently. 
 
 " There ! You hear what he says ? " 
 
 " Lydia, Lydia ! I've the highest possible respect 
 for your judgment ; but isn't this what you might call 
 a trifle — er — summary ? " 
 
 " It saves time," said Miss Belcher. " And if 
 you're going to catch the real culprit, time is precious. 
 Now take me to see the spot." 
 
 But at this point Mr. Goodfellow's emotions 
 overmastered him, and he broke forth into the 
 language of rhapsody. 
 
 " woman, woman ! " exclaimed Mr. Goodfellow, 
 " whatever would the world do without your wondrous 
 instink ! " 
 
 " Bless the man ! " — Miss Belcher drew back a 
 pace — " is he talking of me ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am ; generally, or, as you might say, of 
 the sex as a whole. Mind you, I won't go so far as 
 to deny that the gentleman here — or the constable, 
 for that matter — had some excuse to be suspicious. 
 But to think o' me liftin' a hand against poor old 
 Danny CofQn! Why, ma'am, the times I've a-led
 
 CLUES IN A TANGLE 119 
 
 him home from the publics when incapable is not 
 to be numbered; and only at this very moment in 
 my little shop, home in Falmouth, I've a corner 
 cupboard of his under repair that he wouldn't trust 
 to another living soul ! And along comes you an' 
 say, ' That man's innocent ! Look at his face ! ' you 
 says, which it's downright womanly instink, if ever 
 there was such a thing in this world." 
 
 " A corner cupboard ! " I gasped. " You have the 
 corner cupboard ? " 
 
 Mr. Goodfellow nodded. "I took it home un- 
 beknowns to the old man. Many a time he'd spoken 
 to me about repairiu' it, the upper hinge bein' 
 cracked, as you may remember. But when it came 
 to handin' it over I could never get him. So that 
 afternoon, the coast bein' clear and him sitting 
 drunk in the Plume o' Feathers, as again you will 
 remember " 
 
 But here Miss Belcher shot out a hand and 
 gripped my collar to steady me as I reeled. I dare 
 say that hunger and lack of sleep had much to do 
 with my giddiness ; at any rate, the grassy slope had 
 begun all of a sudden to heave and whirl at my feet. 
 
 " Drat the boy ! He's beginning now ! " 
 
 "Take me home," I implored her, stammering. 
 "Please, Miss Belcher!" 
 
 "Now, I'll lay three to one," said Miss Belcher, 
 holding me off and regarding me, " that no one has 
 thought of o-ivino; this child an honest breakfast. 
 
 O Do 
 
 And" — she turned on Mr, Jack Rogers — "you call 
 yourself a justice of the peace ! "
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 HOW I BEOKE OUT THE RED ENSIGN 
 
 We were seated in council in the little parlour of 
 Minden Cottage — Miss Belcher, Miss Plinlimmon, 
 Mr. Jack Eogers, Mr. Goodfellow, and I. Mr. Good- 
 fellow had been included at Miss Belcher's particular 
 request. Constable Hosken had been despatched to 
 search the plantation thoroughly and to report. Two 
 other constables had arrived, and were coping, in 
 front and rear of the cottage, with a steady if strag- 
 gling incursion of visitors from the near villages and 
 hamlets of St. Germans, Hessenford, Bake, and Catch- 
 french, drawn by reports of a second murder to come 
 and stand and gaze at the premises. The report 
 among them (as I learned afterwards) ran that a 
 second body — alleged by some to be mine, by others 
 to be Ann the cook's — had been discovered lying in 
 its own blood in the attic ; but the marvel was how 
 the report could have spread at all, since Miss 
 Belcher had sworn the two woodmen to secrecy. 
 Whoever spread it could have known very little, for 
 the sightseers wasted all their curiosity on the 
 house and concerned themselves not at all with the 
 plantation. 
 
 120
 
 HOW I BROKE OUT THE RED ENSIGN 121 
 
 From the plantation Miss Belclier had led me 
 straight to the house, and there in the darkened 
 parlour I had told my story, corroborated here and 
 there by Mr. Goodfellow. In the intervals of my 
 narrative Miss Belcher insisted on my swallowing 
 great spoonfuls of hot bread-and-milk, against which 
 — faint though I was and famished — my gorge rose. 
 Also the ordeal of gulping it under four pairs of 
 eyes was not a light one. But Miss Belcher insisted, 
 and Miss Belcher stood no nonsense. 
 
 I told them of my acquaintance with Captain 
 Coffin ; how he had invited me to his lodgings and 
 promised me wealth; of his studying navigation, 
 of his reference to the island and the treasure hidden 
 on it, and of the one occasion when he vouchsafed 
 me a glimpse of the chart ; of the French prisoner, 
 Aaron Class, and how we escaped from him, and of 
 the plan we arranged together at the old windmill ; 
 how Captain Danny had taken boat to board the 
 St. Mawes packet ; how the man Class had followed ; 
 how I had visited the lodgings, and of the con- 
 fusion I found there. I described the ex-prisoner's 
 appearance and clothing in detail, and here I had 
 Mr. Goodfellow to confirm me under cross-exami- 
 nation. 
 
 " An' the cap'n," said he, " was afraid of him. 
 I give you my word, ladies and gentlemen, I never 
 saw a man worse scared in my life. Put up his 
 hands, he did, an* fairly screeched, an' bolted out 
 o' the door with his arm linked in the lad's." 
 
 Three or four times in the course of my
 
 122 POISON ISLAND 
 
 narrative I happened to thrust my hands into my 
 breeches-pocket, and was reminded of the gold eye- 
 glass concealed there. I had managed very artfully 
 to keep Captain Branscome entirely out. of the story, 
 but twice under examination I was forced to mention 
 him— and each time, curiously enough, in answer to 
 a question of Miss Belcher's. 
 
 "You are sure this Captain Coffin showed the 
 chart to no one but yourself? " she asked. 
 
 " I am pretty sure, ma'am." 
 
 "There was always a tale about Falmouth that 
 Cap'n Danny had struck a buried treasure," said 
 Mr. Goodfellow. "'Twas a joke in the publics, and 
 with the street boys; but I never heard tell till 
 now that any one took it serious." 
 
 "He was learning navigation," mused Miss Bel- 
 cher. " What was the name of his teacher ? " 
 
 "A Captain Branscome, ma'am. He's a teacher 
 at Stimcoe's." 
 
 " Lives in the house, does he ? " 
 
 "No, ma'am." 
 
 " A Cai:>tain Branscome, you say ? " 
 
 "Yes, ma'am. He's a retired packet captain, and 
 lame of one leg. Every one in Falmouth knows 
 Captain Branscome." 
 
 " H'm ! Wouldn't this Captain Branscome wonder 
 a little that a man of your friend's age, and (we'll 
 say) a bit wrong in his head, should want to learn 
 navigation ? " 
 
 " He might, ma'am." 
 
 "He certainly would," snapped Miss Belcher.
 
 HOW I BROKE OUT THE RED ENSIGN 123 
 
 " And wouldn't this Captain Branscome know it was 
 perfectly useless to teach such a man ? " 
 
 " I dare say he would, ma'am," I answered, guiltily 
 recalling Captain Branscome's own words to me on 
 this subject. 
 
 " Then why did he take the man's money, eh ? 
 Well, go on with your story." 
 
 I breathed more easily for a while, but by-and-by, 
 when I came to tell of the discussion by the old wind- 
 mill, I felt her eyes upon me again. 
 
 "Wait a moment. Captain Coffin gave you a 
 key, and this key was to open the corner cupboard 
 in his lodgings. Wasn't it rather foolish of him to 
 send you, seeing that this Aaron Glass had seen you 
 in his company, and would recognize you if he were 
 watching the premises, which was just what you both 
 feared?" 
 
 "He didn't count on me to go," I admitted; "at 
 least, not first along." 
 
 "On whom, then?" 
 
 " On Captain Branscome, ma'am." 
 
 " Oh ! Did he send you with that message to 
 Captain Branscome ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 "Then why didn't you tell us so? Well, when 
 you took the message, what did Captain Branscome 
 say ? And why didn't he go ? " 
 
 "He was not at home, ma'am. Mr. Stimcoe had 
 given us a holiday in honour of the prisoners." 
 
 "I see. So Captain Branscome was off on an 
 outing ? When did he return ? "
 
 124 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " I didn't see him that evening, ma'am." 
 
 "That's not an answer to my question. I asked, 
 When did he return ? " 
 
 " Not until yesterday afternoon." 
 
 I had to think before giving this answer, so long 
 a stretch of time seemed to lie between me and 
 yesterday afternoon. 
 
 " Where had he been spending his holiday mean- 
 while?" 
 
 " He didn't tell me, ma'am." 
 
 "At all events, he didn't turn up for school next 
 day, nor the next again, until the afternoon. Queer 
 sort of academy, Stimcoe's. Did Mr. Stimcoe make 
 any remark on his under-teacher's absence ? " 
 
 "No, ma'am." 
 
 " The school went on just as usual ? " 
 
 " No-o, ma'am " — I hesitated — " not quite just as 
 usual. Mr. Stimcoe was unwell." 
 
 "Drunk?" 
 
 " My dear Miss Belcher ! " ])ut in the scan- 
 dalized Plinny. " A scholar, and such a gentle- 
 man ! " 
 
 " Fiddlestick-end ! " snapped the unconscionable 
 lady, not removing her eyes from mine. " Was this 
 man Stimcoe drunk, eh ? No ; I beg your pardon," 
 she corrected herself. " I oughtn't to be asking a boy 
 to tell tales out of school. ' Thou shalt not say any- 
 thing to get another fellow into trouble ' — that's the 
 first and last commandment — eh, Harry Brooks? 
 But, my good soul " — she turned on Plinny — 
 " if * drunk and incapable ' isn't written over the
 
 HOW I BROKE OUT THE RED ENSIGN 125 
 
 whole of that seminary, you may call me a Dutch- 
 woman ! " 
 
 "There's a point or so clear enough," she an- 
 nounced, after a pause, when I had finished my story. 
 
 " We must placard the whole country with a 
 description of that prisoner chap Gllass," said Mr. 
 Jack Eogers ; " and I'd best be off to Falmouth and 
 get the bills printed at once." 
 
 " Indeed ? " said Miss Belcher, dryly. " And pray 
 how are you proposing to describe him ? " 
 
 " Why, as for that, I should have thought Harry's 
 description here, backed up by Mr. Goodfellow's, was 
 enough to lay a trail upon any man. My dear 
 Lydia, a fellow roaming the country in a red coat, 
 drill trousers, and a japanned hat ! " 
 
 " It would obviously excite remark ; so obviously 
 that the likelihood might even occur to the man 
 himself." 
 
 Mr. Eogers looked crestfallen for a moment. 
 
 " You suggest that by this time he has changed 
 his rig ? " 
 
 " I suggest, rather, that he started by changing it, 
 say, as far back as St. Mawes. Some one must ride 
 to St. Mawes at once and make inquiries." Miss 
 Belcher drummed her fingers on the table. *' But 
 the man," she said thoughtfully, " will have reached 
 Plymouth long before this." 
 
 " You don't think it possible he went back the 
 same way he came ? " 
 
 "In a world. Jack, where you find yourself a
 
 126 POISON ISLAND 
 
 magistrate, all things are possible. " But I don't 
 think it at all likely." 
 
 " It's a rum story altogether," mused Mr. Eogers. 
 " A couple of murders in this part of the world, and 
 mixed up with an island full of treasure ! Why, 
 damme, 'tis almost like Shakespeare ! " 
 
 " For my part," observed Miss Plinlimmon, with 
 great simplicity, " though sometimes accused of lean- 
 ing unduly toward the romantic, I should be inclined 
 to set down this story of Captain Coffin's to halluci- 
 nation, or even to stigmatize it as what I believe is 
 called in nautical parlance a ' yarn.' " 
 
 " And small blame to you, my dear ! " agreed Miss 
 Belcher ; " only, you see, when folks go about killing 
 one another, the hallucination begins to look disas- 
 trously as if there were something in it." 
 
 " Yet I still fail to see," urged Plinny, " why our 
 dear Major should have fallen a victim." 
 
 " It's plain as a pikestaff, if you'll excuse me," Mr. 
 Eofrers answered her. " This Coffin carried the chart 
 on him, meaning to deliver it into the Major's keep- 
 ing. He came here, entered the garden by the side- 
 gate, found the Major in the summer-house, told his 
 story, handed over the chart, and was making his 
 way back to the high-road through the plantation, 
 when he came full on this man Aaron Glass, who had 
 tracked him all the way from St. Mawes. Glass fell 
 on him, murdered him, rifled his pockets, and, finding 
 nothing — but having some hint, perhaps — pursued 
 his way to the garden here. There in the summer- 
 house he found the Major, who meanwhile had fetched
 
 HOW I BEOKE OUT THE RED ENSIGN 127 
 
 his cashbox from the house and locked the chart up 
 in it. What followed, any one can guess." 
 
 " Not a bad theory, Jack ! " murmured Miss 
 Belcher, still drumming softly on the table. " In- 
 deed, 'tis the only explanation, but for one or two 
 things against it." 
 
 " For instance ? " 
 
 "For instance, I don't see why the Major should 
 want to go to the house and bring back his cash- 
 box to the garden. Surely the simple thing was to 
 take the paper, or whatever it was, straight to the 
 house, lock it up, and leave the cashbox in its usual 
 place ? I don't see, either, what that box was doing, 
 later on, in the brook below my lodge-gate ; for, 
 by every chance that I can reckon, the murderer — 
 supposing him to be this man Glass — would have 
 pushed on in haste for Plymouth, whereas my lodge- 
 gate lies half a mile in the opposite direction." 
 
 " Are those all your objections ? " asked Mr. 
 Kogers. " Because, if so, I must say they don't 
 amount to much." 
 
 " They don't amount to much," Miss Belcher 
 agreed, " but they don't, on the other hand, quite 
 cover all my doubts. However, there's less doubt, 
 luckily, about the next step to be taken. You 
 send Hosken or some one to Torpoint Ferry to 
 inquire what strangers have crossed for Plymouth 
 during these forty-eight hours. You meanwhile 
 borrow my roan filly — your own mare is dead-beat — 
 clap her in the tilbury, and off you go to St. Mawes, 
 and find out how this man Glass got hold of a change
 
 128 POISON ISLAND 
 
 of clothes. Take Mr. Goodfellow with you, and while 
 you are playing detective at St. Mawes, he can cross 
 over to Falmouth and fetch along that corner cup- 
 board. Harry has the key, and we'll open it here and 
 read what the captain has to say in this famous roll 
 of paper. It won't do more than tantalize us, I very 
 much fear, seeing that the chart has disappeared, and 
 likely enough for ever." 
 
 But it had not. 
 
 It so happened that while I stood by my father's 
 bedside that morning I had noticed a flag, rolled in a 
 bundle and laid upon the chest of drawers beside his 
 dressing-table. I concluded at once that Plinny had 
 fetched it from the summer-house to spread over 
 his coffin. 
 
 Women know nothing about flags. This one was 
 a red ensign, in those days a purely naval flag, carried 
 (since Trafalgar) by the highest rank of admirals. 
 Ashore, any one could hoist it, but the flag to cover a 
 soldier's body was the flag of Union. 
 
 This had crossed my mind when I caught sight of 
 the red ensign on the chest of drawers ; and again in 
 the summer-house, as I lifted the lid of the flag- 
 locker and noted the finger-marks in the dust upon it, 
 I guessed that Plinny had visited it with pious pur- 
 pose, and, woman-like, chosen the first flag handy. I 
 had meant to repair her mistake, and again had for- 
 gotten my intention. 
 
 Mr. Jack Rogers had driven off for St. Mawes, 
 with Mr. Goodfellow in the tilbury beside him.
 
 HOW I BROKE OUT THE RED ENSIGN 129 
 
 Constable Hosken was ou his way to Torpoiut. Miss 
 Belcher had withdrawn to her great house, after 
 insisting that I must be fed once more and packed 
 straight off to bed ; and fed I duly was, and tucked 
 between sheets, to sleep, exhausted, very nearly the 
 round of the clock. 
 
 Footsteps awoke me — footsteps on the landing 
 outside my bedroom. I sat up, guessing at once that 
 they were the footsteps of the carpenter and his men, 
 arrived in the dawn with the shell of my father's 
 coffin. Almost at once I remembered the red ensign, 
 and, waiting until the footsteps withdrew, stole across, 
 half dressed, to my father's room to change it. The 
 faint rays of dawn drifted in through the closed 
 blinds. The coffin-shell lay the length of the bed, 
 and in it his body. The carpenter's men had left it 
 uncovered. In the dim light, no doubt, they had 
 overlooked the flag, which I felt for and found. 
 Tucking it under my arm, I closed the door and 
 tiptoed downstairs, let myself out at the back, and 
 stole out to the summer-house. 
 
 There was light enough within to help me in 
 selecting the Union flag from the half-dozen within 
 the locker. I was about to stow the red ensign in its 
 place when I bethought me that, day being so near, 
 I might as well bend a flag upon the flagstaff 
 halliards and half-mast it. 
 
 So, with the Union flag under one arm, I carried 
 out the red ensign, bent in carefully, still in a roll, 
 and hoisted it to the truck. In half-masting a flag, 
 you first hoist it in a bundle to the masthead, break 
 
 E
 
 130 rOISON ISLAND 
 
 it out there, and thence lower it to the position at 
 which you make fast. 
 
 I felt the flag's toggle jam chock-a-block against 
 the truck of the stafif, and gave a tug, shaking out the 
 flag to the still morning breeze. A second later 
 something thudded on the turf close at my feet. 
 
 I stared at it ; but the halliards were in my hand, 
 and before picking it up I must wait and make them 
 fast on the cleat. Still I stared at it, there where it 
 lay on the dim turf. 
 
 And still I stared at it. Either I was dreaminsr 
 yet, or this — this thing that had fallen from heaven 
 — was the oilskin bag that had wrapped Captain 
 Coffin's chart. 
 
 I stooped to pick it up. At that instant the side- 
 gate rattled, and with a start I faced, in the half light 
 — Captain Branscome.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 CAPTAIN BRANSCOME's CONFESSION— THE MAN IN 
 THE LANE 
 
 He opened the gate and came across the turf to me. 
 I observed that his hand trembled on his walking- 
 cane, and that he dragged his injured leg with a worse 
 limp than usual ; also — but the uncertain light may 
 have had something to do with this — his face seemed 
 of one colour with the grey dust that powdered his 
 shoes. 
 
 " Good morning, Harry ! " 
 
 "Good morning, sir," I answered, crushing the 
 oilskin into my pocket and waiting for his explanation. 
 
 " You are surprised to see me ? The fact is, I have 
 something to tell you, and could not rest easy till it 
 was off my mind. I have travelled here by Kussell's 
 waggon,* but have trudged a good part of the way, 
 
 * Russell's waggons — " Russell and Co., Falmouth to London " 
 — were huge .vehicles that plied along the Great West Road under 
 an escort of soldiers, and conveyed the bullion and other treasure 
 lauded at Falmouth by the Post Office packets. They were drawn, 
 always at a foot-pace, by teams of sis stout horses. The waggoner 
 rode beside on a pony, and inside sat a man armed with pistols and 
 blunderbuss. Poor travellers used these waggons, walking by day, 
 and sleeping by night beneath the tilt. 
 
 131
 
 132 POISON ISLAND 
 
 as you see." He glanced down at his shoes. " The 
 pace was too slow for my impatience. I could get 
 no sleep. Though it brought me here no faster, I had 
 to vent my energies in walking." His sentences 
 followed one another by jerks, in a nervous flurry. 
 " You are surprised to see me ? " he repeated. 
 
 "Why, as to that, sir, partly I am and partly 
 I am not. It took me aback just now to see you 
 standing there by the gate ; and," said I more boldly, 
 "it puzzles me yet how you came there and not 
 to the front door, for you couldn't have expected 
 to find me here in the garden at this time in the 
 morning." 
 
 "True, Harry; I did not." He paused for a 
 moment, and went on—" It is truth, lad, that I meant 
 to knock at your front door, by-and-by, and ask for 
 you. But, the hour being over-early for calling, I 
 had a mind, before rousing you out of bed, to walk 
 down the lane and, have a look over your garden gate. 
 Nay," he corrected himself, " I do not put it quite 
 honestly, even yet. I came in search of some- 
 thing." 
 
 " I can save you the trouble, perhaps," said I, and, 
 diving a hand into my breech-pocket, I pulled out the 
 gold-rimmed eyeglasses. 
 
 He made no offer to take them, though I held 
 them out to him on my open palm, but fell back 
 a step, and, after a glance at them, lifted his eyes 
 and met mine honestly, albeit with a trouble in 
 his face. 
 
 "You found them?"
 
 THE MAN IN THE LANE 133 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " To whom have you shown them ? " 
 
 " To nobody." 
 
 " Yet there has been some inquiry ? " 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 " At which you were present ? " 
 
 I nodded again. 
 
 "And you said nothing of this — this piece of 
 evidence ? Why ? " 
 
 " Because " — I hesitated for a couple of seconds 
 and then gulped hesitation down — "because I could 
 not believe that you — that you were really " 
 
 " Thank you, Harry." 
 
 " All the same, sir, your name was mentioned." 
 
 " Eh ? " He was plainly astonished. " My name 
 mentioned ? But why ? How ? Since no one saw 
 me here, and if, as you say, you hid this only 
 evidence " 
 
 " It came up, sir, when they examined me about 
 Captain Danny. You know — do you not ? — that they 
 have found his body, too." 
 
 " I heard the news being cried in Truro streets 
 as we came through. Poor old Coffin ! It is all 
 mystery to me — mystery on mystery! But how on 
 earth should my name have come up in connection 
 with him ? " 
 
 " Why, about your teaching him navigation, sir." 
 
 Captain Branscome passed a hand over his fore- 
 head. 
 
 " Navigation ? Yes ; to be sure, I taught him 
 navigation — or, rather, tried to. But what of that ? "
 
 134 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " Well, sir, Miss Belcher seemed to think it 
 suspicious." 
 
 He reached out a hand, and, taking the glasses 
 from me, sat down upon the stone base of the flagstafi" 
 and began feebly to polish them. 
 
 " Impossible ! " he said faintly, as if to himself ; 
 then aloud : " The man was a friend of yours, too, 
 wasn't he ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; if you mean Captain Coffin, he was a 
 friend of mine." 
 
 " And of mine ; and, as you say, he came to me 
 to learn navigation. Now, what connection there can 
 be between that and his being murdered a dozen miles 
 inland " 
 
 But here he broke off, and we both looked up and 
 across the stream as, with a click of the latch, the door 
 there creaked and opened, and Miss Belcher entered 
 the garden. She wore an orange-coloured dressing- 
 gown, top-boots to guard her ankles from the morning 
 dew, a red kerchief tied over her brow to keep her 
 iron-grey locks in place, and over it her customary 
 beaver hat — et vera incessu jjatuit dea. Even thus 
 attired did Miss Belcher, a goddess of the dawn, come 
 striding over the footbridge and across the turf to us ; 
 and the effect of the apparition upon Captain Brans- 
 come's nerves, after a night of travel alongside 
 Russell's van, I can only surmise. I did not observe 
 it, having for the moment no eyes for him. 
 
 " Hallo ! " said Miss Belcher, walking straight up 
 to us, and halting, with a hand planted, washer- 
 woman fashion, on either hip, as Captain Branscome
 
 THE MAN IN THE LANE 135 
 
 staggered to his feet and saluted. "Hallo! wlio's 
 this ? " 
 
 " Captain Branscome, ma'am," stammered I. 
 
 " I thought as much. And what is Captain 
 Branscome doing here ? " 
 
 " By your leave, ma'am," said Captain Branscome, 
 " I — I was just dropping in for a talk here with my 
 friend Harry Brooks." 
 
 " H'm ! " sniffed Miss Belcher, and eyed him up 
 and down for a full ten seconds with an uncom- 
 promising stare. "As an explanation, sir, you will 
 allow that to be a trifle unsatisfactory. What have 
 you been eating lately ? " 
 
 "Madam?" 
 
 Captain Branscome stared at her in weak bewilder- 
 ment ; and, indeed, the snort which accompanied Miss 
 Belcher's question seemed to accuse him of impreg- 
 nating the morning air with a scent of onions. 
 
 " You can answer a plain question, I hope ? " 
 said she. " When did you eat last, and what 
 was it?" 
 
 " To be precise, ma'am — though I don't under- 
 stand you — it was an apple, and about — let me see — 
 seven hours ago." 
 
 Miss Belcher turned to me and nodded. 
 
 "In other words, the man's starving. I don't 
 blame you, Harry Brooks. One can't look for old 
 heads on young shoulders. But, for goodness' sake, 
 take him into the house and give him something 
 to eat ! " 
 
 "Madam " again began Captain Branscome,
 
 136 POISON ISLAND 
 
 still a prey to that mental paralysis which Miss 
 Belcher's costume and appearance ever produced 
 upon strangers, and for which she never made the 
 smallest allowance. 
 
 "Don't tell me!" she snapped. "I breed stock 
 and I buy 'em. I know the signs." 
 
 " I was about to suggest, ma'am, that — travel- 
 stained as I am — a wash and a shave would be even 
 more refreshing." 
 
 " H'm ! You're one of those people — eh. ? — that 
 study appearances ? " (In the art of disconcert- 
 ing by simple interrogation I never knew Miss 
 Belcher's peer, whether for swiftness, range, or 
 variety.) " Brought a razor with you ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " Take him to the house, Harry ; but first show 
 me where the hens have been laying." 
 
 Half an hour later, as Captain Branscome, washed, 
 brushed, and freshly shaven, descended to the break- 
 fast-parlour, Miss Belcher entered the house by the 
 back door, with her hat full of new-laid eggs. 
 
 " Nothing like a raw egg to start the day upon," 
 she announced. " I suck 'em, for my part ; but some 
 prefer 'em beaten up in a dish of tea." 
 
 She suited the action to the word, and beat up one 
 in the Captain's teacup while Plinny carved him a 
 slice of ham. 
 
 " Ladies," he protested, " I am ashamed. I do not 
 deserve this hospitality. If you would allow me first 
 to tell my story ! " 
 
 " You're all right," said Miss Belcher. " Couldn't
 
 THE MAN IN THE LANE 137 
 
 hurt a fly, if you wanted to. There ! Eat up your 
 breakfast, and then you can tell us all about it." 
 
 The two ladies had, each in her way, a knack of 
 making her meaning clear without subservience to the 
 strict forms of speech. 
 
 " It will be a weight off one's mind," declared 
 Plinny, " even if it should prove to be the last straw." 
 
 " There's one thing to be thankful for," chimed in 
 Miss Belcher, " and that is, Jack Eogers has gone to 
 St. Mawes, When there's serious business to be dis- 
 cussed I always thank a Providence that clears the 
 men out of the way." 
 
 I glanced at Captain Branscome. Assuredly he 
 had come with no intention at all of unbosoming 
 himself before a couple of ladies. He desired — desired 
 desperately, I felt sure — to confide in me alone. But 
 Bliss Belcher's off-handish air of authority completely 
 nonplussed him ; he sat helplessly fidgeting with his 
 breakfast-plate. 
 
 " To tell you the truth, ladies," he began, " I had 
 not expected this — this audience. It finds me, in a 
 manner of speaking, unprepared." He ran a finger 
 around the edge of his saucer after the manner of one 
 performing on the musical glasses, and threw a hunted 
 glance at the window, as though for a way of escape. 
 " My name, ladies, is Branscome. I was once well- 
 to-do, and commanded a packet in the service of his 
 Majesty's Postmasters- General. But times have altered 
 with me, and I am now an usher in a school, and a 
 very poor man." 
 
 He paused ; looked up at Miss Belcher, who had
 
 138 rOISON ISLAND 
 
 squared her elbows on the table in very unladylike 
 fashion ; and cleared his throat before proceeding — 
 
 " You will excuse me for mentioning this, but it is 
 an essential part of my story." 
 
 " The Stimcoes," suggested Miss Belcher, " didn't 
 pay up — eh ? " 
 
 " Mr. Stimcoe — though a scholar, ma'am — has 
 suffered from time to time from pecuniary embarrass- 
 ment." 
 
 " — traceable to drink," interpolated Miss Belcher, 
 with a nod towards Plinny. " No, sir ; you need not 
 look at Harry : he has told us nothing. I formed my 
 own conclusions." 
 
 " Mrs. Stimcoe, ma'am — for I should tell you she 
 keeps the purse — is too often unable to make two 
 ends meet, as the saying is. I believe she paid when 
 she could, but somehow my salary has always been in 
 arrear. I have used remonstrance with her, before 
 now, to a degree which it shames me to remember ; 
 yet, in spite of it, I have sometimes found myself on a 
 Saturday, after a week's work, without a loaf of bread 
 in the cupboard. I doubt, ma'am, if any one who has 
 not experienced it can wholly understand the power 
 of mere hunger to degrade a man ; to what lengths 
 he can be urged, willy-nilly, as it were, by the instinct 
 to satisfy it. There were Sabbaths, ma'am, when to 
 attend divine worship seemed a mockery ; the craving 
 drove me away from all congregations of Christian 
 men and out into the fields, where— I tell it with 
 shame, ma'am — I have stolen turnips and eaten them 
 raw, loathing the deed even worse than I loathed the
 
 THE MAN IN THE LANE 139 
 
 vegetable, for the taste of whicli — I may say — I have 
 a singular aversion. Well, among my pupils was 
 Harry here, whom I discovered to be the son of an 
 old friend of mine. I dare to call the late Major 
 James Brooks a friend in spite of the difference 
 between our stations in life — a difference he himself 
 was good enough to forget. Our acquaintance began 
 on the Londonderry transport, which I commanded, 
 and in which I brought him home from Corunna to 
 Plymouth in the January of 1809. It ended with the 
 conclusion of that short and anxious passage. But 
 I had always remembered Major Brooks as one who 
 approached, if ever man did, the ideal of an officer 
 and a gentleman. Now, at first, ladies, the discovery 
 suggested no thought to me beyond the pleasure of 
 knowing that my old friend was alive and hale, and 
 the hope of seeing Harry grow up to be as good a 
 man as his father. But by-and-by I found a thought 
 waking and growing, and awake again and itching 
 after I had done my best to kill it, that the Major 
 might be moved by the story of an old shipmate 
 brought so low. God forgive me, ladies ! " Captain 
 Branscome put up a hand to cover his brow. " The 
 very telling of it degrades me over again ; but I came 
 here to make a clean breast, and there is no other 
 way. I had cross-examined Harry about the Major 
 and his habits — not always allowing to myself why 
 I asked him many trivial questions. And then 
 suddenly the temptation came to a head. Certain 
 Englishmen discharged from the French war-prisons 
 were landed at Plymouth. The town turned out to
 
 140 POISON ISLAND 
 
 welcome the poor fellows home, and the Mayor enter- 
 tained them at a banquet, to which also he invited 
 some two hundred townsmen. Among the guests he 
 was good enough to include me ; for it has been a 
 consolation to me, ladies, and a source of pride, that 
 my friends in Falmouth have not withdrawn in 
 adversity the respect which in old days my uniform 
 commanded," 
 
 " Captain Branscome is not telling you the half of 
 it," I broke in eagerly. " Every one in Falmouth 
 knows him to be a hero. Why, he has a sword of 
 honour at home, given him for one of the bravest 
 battles ever fought ! " 
 
 " Gently, boy — gently ! " Captain Branscome cor- 
 rected me, with a smile, albeit a sad one. " Youth is 
 generous, ladies ; it sees these things through a haze 
 which colours and magnifies them, and — and it's a very 
 poor kind of hero you'll consider me before I have 
 done. Where was I ? Ah, yes, to be sure — the 
 banquet. His Worship can little have guessed what 
 his invitation meant to me, or that, while others 
 thanked him for a compliment, to me it offered a 
 satisfying meal such as I had not eaten for months. 
 Mr. Stimcoe had given the school a holiday. In short, 
 I attended. 
 
 " I fear, ladies, that the food and the generous wine 
 together must have turned my head — there is no other 
 explanation; for when the meal was over and I sat 
 with a glass of port before me, scarcely listening 
 to the speeches, but fumbling with the half-crown in 
 my pocket which must carry me over another week's
 
 THE MAN IN THE LANE 141 
 
 housekeeping, all of a suddeu the mau inside me 
 rose in revolt. I felt such poverty as mine to be un- 
 endurable, and that I was a slave, a spiritless fool, to 
 put up with it. There must be hundreds of good, 
 Christian folk in the world who had only to know to 
 stretch out a hand of help and gladly, as 1 would have 
 helped such a case in the days of my own prosperity. 
 Kemember, I am not putting this forward as a sober 
 plea. I know it now to be false, self-cheating, the 
 apology that every beggar makes for himself, the 
 specious argument that every poor man must resist 
 who would hold fast by his manhood. But there, with 
 the wine in me and the juices of good meat, the 
 temptation took me at unawares and mastered me as 
 I had never allowed it to master me while I hungered. 
 I saw the world in a sudden rosy light ; I felt that 
 my past sufferings had been unnecessary. I thought 
 of Major Brooks " 
 
 " Bless the man ! " interjected Miss Belcher. " He's 
 coming to the point at last." 
 
 " Your pardon, ma'am. I will be briefer. I thought 
 of Major Brooks. I took a resolve there and then to 
 extend my holiday ; to walk hither to Minden Cottage, 
 and lay my case before him. The banquet had no 
 sooner broken up than I started. I reached Truro at 
 nightfall, and hired a bed there for sixpence. Early 
 next morning I set forward again. By this time the 
 impulse had died out of me, but I still walked forward, 
 playing with my intention, always telling myself that 
 I could relinquish it and turn back to Falmouth, 
 cheating— yes, I fear deliberately cheating — myself
 
 142 POISON ISLAND 
 
 with the assurance until more than half the journey 
 lay behind me, and to turn back would be worse than 
 pusillanimous. At St. Austell a carrier offered me a 
 lift, and brought me to Liskeard. Thence I walked 
 forward again, and in the late afternoon came in sight 
 of Minden Cottage. 
 
 " I recognized it at once from Harry's description, 
 and at first I was minded to walk up and knock boldly 
 at the front door. But remembering also the lad's 
 account of the garden and how the Major would spend 
 the best part of his day there — and partly, I fancy, 
 being nervous and uncertain with what form of words 
 to present myself — I pulled up at the angle of the 
 house, where the lane comes up alongside the garden 
 wall to join the road, and halted, to collect myself and 
 study my bearings. 
 
 " The time was about twenty minutes after five, 
 and the light pretty good. But the lane is pretty 
 well overgrown, as you know. I looked down and 
 along it, and it appeared to end in a tangle of 
 brambles. I turned my attention to the house, and 
 was studying it through my glasses, taking stock of 
 its windows and chimneys, and generally (as you 
 might say) reckoning it up, along with the extent of 
 its garden, when, happening to take another glance 
 down the lane, to run a measure of the garden wall — 
 or perhaps a movement caught my eye — I saw a man 
 step across the path between the brambles, out of the 
 garden, as you might say, and into the plantation 
 opposite. The path being so narrow, I glimpsed him 
 for half a second only. But the glimpse of him gave
 
 THE MAN IN THE LANE 143 
 
 me a start, for, if to suppose it had been anywise 
 possible, I could have sworn the man was one I had 
 known in Falmouth and left behind there." 
 
 " Captain Coffin ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 "Ay, lad, Captain Coffin — Captain Danny Coffin. 
 But what should he be doing at Minden Cottage ? " 
 
 " The quicker you proceed, sir," said Miss Belcher, 
 rapping the table, "the sooner we are likely to 
 discover."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 CAPTAIN BRANSCOME's CONFESSION — THE FLAG AND 
 THE CASHBOX 
 
 " Well, ma'am," resumed Captain Branscome, " so 
 strong was the likeness to old Coffin, and yet so 
 incredible was it he should be in these parts, that, 
 almost without stopping to consider, I turned down 
 the lane on the chance of another glimpse of the 
 man. This brought me, of course, to the stile lead- 
 ing into the plantation; but the path there, as you 
 know, takes a turn among the trees almost as soon as 
 it starts, and runs, moreover, through a pretty thick 
 undergrowth. The fellow, whoever he was, had 
 disappeared, 
 
 " I can't say but what I was still puzzled, though 
 the likeliest explanation — indeed, the only likely one 
 — seemed to be that my eyes had played me a trick. 
 I had pretty well made up my mind to this when I 
 turned away from the stile to have a look at the 
 garden gate on the other side of the lane ; and over 
 it, across the little stretch of turf, I caught sight of 
 the summer-house and of Major Brooks standing there 
 in the doorway with a bundle between his hands 
 
 144
 
 THE FLAG AND THE CASHBOX 145 
 
 — a bundle of something red, which he seemed to be 
 wrapping round with a piece of cord. 
 
 "Here, then, was the very man I had come to 
 see ; and here was a chance of getting speech with 
 him and without the awkwardness of asking it through 
 a servant, perhaps of having to invent an excuse for 
 my visit. Without more ado, therefore, I made bold 
 to lift the latch of the gate and step into the garden. 
 
 " At the sound of the latch — I can see him now — 
 Major Brooks lifted his head with a curious start, and 
 tucked the bundle under his arm. The movement 
 was like that of a man taken at unawares, and 
 straightening himself up to meet an attack. I cannot 
 describe it precisely, but that was just the impression 
 it made on me, and it took me aback for a moment, so 
 that I paused as the gate fell-to and latched itself 
 behind me. 
 
 " * Halt there ! ' the Major commanded, facing me 
 full across the turf. ' Halt, and tell me, please, why 
 you have come back ! ' 
 
 " This puzzled me worse for a moment, for the 
 light was good, though drawing towards sunset, and 
 it seemed impossible that, looking straight at me, he 
 could mistake me for the man who had just left the 
 garden. Then I remembered what Harry had told 
 me of his father's blindness. 
 
 " My silence naturally made him more suspicious. 
 
 " ' Who is it there ? Your name, please ? ' he 
 demanded sharply. 
 
 " ' Sir,' I answered, ' I beg your pardon for coming 
 thus unannounced, but my name is Branscome, and I 
 
 L
 
 146 POISON ISLAND 
 
 had once the honour to be shipmate with you on board 
 the Londonderry transport.* 
 
 "For a while he continued to stare at me in his 
 blind way. 
 
 " * Yes/ he said slowly, at length ; * yes ; I re- 
 member your voice, sir. But what in the name of 
 wonder brings you to my garden just now ? * 
 
 " * Your son Harry, sir,' said I, * some time ago 
 gave me a message from you. If ever (he said) I 
 found myself in the neighbourhood of Minden 
 Cottage you would be pleased to receive a visit 
 from me.' 
 
 " ' Yes/ said he, but still with a something in his 
 voice between wonder and suspicion ; * that's true 
 enough. I have always retained the highest respect 
 for Captain Branscome, and by your voice you are he. 
 
 But — but ' He hesitated, and fired another 
 
 question point-blank at me : * You come from Fal- 
 mouth ? ' 
 
 «*Ido, sir/ 
 
 " * Alone ? ' 
 
 "'Yes, sir. 1 have walked all the way from 
 Falmouth, and without a companion.' 
 
 " ' Look here, my friend,' he said, after seeming to 
 ponder for a moment, *if you mean ill, you must 
 have altered strangely from the Captain Branscome I 
 used to know, and if you mean well you have timed 
 your visit almost as strangely.' He paused again. 
 * Either you know what I mean, or you do not ; if you 
 do not, you will have to forgive a great deal in this 
 reception ; and you -Rill, to begin with, forgive my 
 asking you, on your word of honour, if on your journey
 
 THE FLAG AND THE CASHBOX 147 
 
 hither you have overtaken or met or recognized any- 
 one hailing from Falmouth. You do not answer,' he 
 added, after yet another pause. 
 
 "'Why, as to that, sir,' said I, 'since leaving 
 Falmouth I have neither met nor overtaken any one 
 of my acquaintance. But, since you put it to me pre- 
 cisely, I will not swear that I have not recognized 
 one. A few minutes ago, standing at the head of the 
 lane here, I saw a man cross it, presumably from this 
 garden, and take the path leading through the planta- 
 tion yonder. It certainly strikes me that I knew the 
 man, and I followed him down the lane here to make 
 sure.' 
 
 « ' Why ? ' the Major asked me. 
 
 " ' Because, sir,' said I, * it did not seem possible to 
 me that the man I mean could have any business 
 here ; besides which, an hour or two before leaving 
 Falmouth I had passed him in the street, and though 
 he had, indeed, the use of his legs, he was too far gone 
 in liquor to recognize me.' 
 
 " ' His name ? ' the Major asked. 
 
 " * Coffin, sir,' said I ; ' usually known as Captain 
 Coffin, or Captain Danny.' 
 
 " * A drunkard ? ' he asked. 
 
 " * A man given to liquor,' said I, * by fits and 
 starts; but mild enough in an ordinary way. You 
 might call him the least bit touched in the upper 
 story ; of a loose, rambling head, at all events, as 
 I can testify, who have taught him navigation — or 
 tried to.' 
 
 " The Major, though he could not see me, seemed
 
 148 POISON ISLAND 
 
 to study me with his blind eyes. He stood erect, with 
 the bundle clipped under his left arm ; and the bundle 
 I made out to be a flag, rolled up and strapped about 
 with its own lanyard. 
 
 " * One more question, Captain Branscome,' said 
 he. * This Captain Coffin, as you call him — is he, to 
 the best of your knowledge, an honest man ? ' 
 
 " I answered that I had heard question of Coffin's 
 sanity, but never of his honesty. 
 
 " * His sanity, eh ? ' said the Major ; and I could 
 see he was hung in stays, but he picked up his 
 wind after a second or two, and paid off on another 
 tack. ' Well, well,' he said, ' we'll drop talking of 
 this Coffin, and turn to the business that brings you 
 here. What is it ? For I take it you've walked all 
 the way from Falmouth for something more than the 
 sake of a chat over old times.' 
 
 "I remember, ladies, the words he used, though 
 not the tone of them. To tell the truth, though my 
 ears received 'em, I was not listening. I stood there, 
 wishing myself a hundred miles away ; but his 
 manner gave me no chance to fob him off with an 
 excuse, or pretend I had dropped in for a passing call. 
 There was nothing for it but to out with my story, and 
 into it I plunged somehow, my tongue stammering 
 with shame. He listened, to be sure, but without 
 offering to help me over the hard places. Indeed, 
 at the first mention of my poverty, I saw all his first 
 suspicions — whatever they had been — return and show 
 themselves in his blind eyes. His mouth was set like 
 a closed trap. Yet he heard me out, and, when I had
 
 THE FLAG AND THE CASHBOX 149 
 
 done, his suspicions seemed to have faded again, for 
 he answered me considerately enough, though not 
 cordially. 
 
 " ' Captain Branscome,' he said, ' I may tell you 
 at once that I never lend money ; and my reason is 
 partly that good seldom comes of it, and partly that I 
 am a poor man — if you can call a man poor who is by 
 a few pounds richer than his needs. But I have a 
 great respect for you ' — the ladies will forgive me for 
 repeating his exact words — * and your voice seems to 
 tell me that you still deserve it ; that you have 
 suffered more than you say before being driven to 
 make this appeal. I can do something — though it be 
 little — to help an old comrade. Will you oblige me 
 by stepping into the summer-house here, and taking 
 a seat while I go to the house ? I will not keep you 
 waiting more than a few minutes.' 
 
 " He picked up his walking-stick, which rested 
 against a chair, just within the doorway, and stood for 
 a moment while I stepped past him and entered the 
 summer-house ; and so, with a nod of the head, turned 
 and walked towards the house, using his stick very 
 skilfully to feel his path between the bushes, and still 
 keeping the flag tucked under his left arm. 
 
 " So I sat and waited, ladies, on no good terms 
 with myself. The way of the borrower was hard, I 
 found, and the harder because the Major's manner 
 had not been unkindly, but — if you'll understand my 
 meaning — only just kindly enough. In short, I don't 
 know but that I must have cut and run rather than 
 endure his charity, had not my thoughts been distracted
 
 150 FOISON ISLAND 
 
 by this mystery over Captain Coffin. For the Major 
 had said too much, and yet not enough. The man 
 I had seen crossing the lane was certainly Coffin, 
 but to connect him with Minden Cottage I had no 
 clue at all beyond the faint one, Harry, that you and 
 he were acquaintances. Besides, I had seen him, the 
 morning before, in the crowd around the prisoners, 
 and could have sworn he was then— saving your 
 presence, ladies— as drunk as a fiddler. If vehicle 
 had brought him, it could not be any that had passed 
 me on the road, or for certain I should have recog- 
 nized him. Well, here was a riddle, and I had come 
 no nearer to guessing it when the Major returned. 
 
 " He had left his bundle in the house, and in place 
 of it he carried a cashbox, which he set on the table 
 between us, but did not at once open. Instead, he 
 turned to me with a complete change of manner, and 
 held out his hand very frankly. 
 
 " ' I owe you an apology. Captain,' said he. ' To 
 be plain with you, at the moment you appeared, I was 
 half expecting a different kind of visitor, and I fear 
 you received some of the welcome prepared for him. 
 Overlook it, please, and shake hands ; and, to get our 
 business over,' — he unlocked the cashbox^' here are 
 ten guineas, which I will ask you to accept from me. 
 We won't call it a gift ; we will call it an acknow- 
 ledgment for the extra pains you have put into teach- 
 ing my son. Tut, man ! ' said he, as I protested. 
 ' Harry has told us all about that. I assure you the 
 youngster came near to wearying us, last holiday, 
 with praise of you.' "
 
 THE FLAG AND THE CASHBOX 151 
 
 " And so he did," Pliuny here interrupted. " That 
 is to say, sir— I— I mean we were only too glad to 
 listen to him." 
 
 " I thank yon, ma'am." Captain Branscome bowed 
 to her gravely. "I will not deny that the Major's 
 words gave me pleasure for the moment. He, for his 
 part, appeared to be quite another man. 'Twas as if 
 between leaving me and returning to the summer- 
 house a load had been lifted from his mind. He counted 
 out the guineas, locked the cashbox again, lit his pipe, 
 and then, seeming to recollect himself, reached down 
 a clean one from a stack above the doorway, and 
 insisted upon my filling and smoking with him. 
 'Twas a long while since I had tasted the luxury of 
 tobacco. We talked of old days on the Londonderry, 
 of Sir John Moore's last campaign, of Falmouth and 
 the packets, of the peace and the overthrow of Bona- 
 parte's ambitions ; or rather, 'twas he that talked and 
 questioned, while for me 'twas pleasure enough, and a 
 pleasure long denied me, to sit on terms with a well- 
 read gentleman and listen to talk of a quality 
 which " 
 
 " Which differed from that of the Eev. Philip 
 Stimcoe's," suggested Miss Belcher, as he hesitated. 
 " Proceed, sir." 
 
 " I shall add, madam, that the Major very kindly 
 invited me to sleep that night under his roof. I could 
 pick up the coach in the morning (he said). But this 
 I declined, professing that I preferred the night for 
 travelling, and maybe, before tiring myself, would 
 overtake one of Russell's waggons and obtain a lift ;
 
 152 POISON ISLAND 
 
 the fact being that, grateful though I found it to sit 
 and converse with him, my conscience was accusing 
 me all the while. 
 
 " Towards the end of our talk he had let slip by 
 accident that he was by no means a rich man. The 
 money from that moment began to burn in my 
 pockets, and I had scarcely shaken hands with him 
 and taken my leave — which I did just as the sun 
 was sinking behind the plantation across the lano 
 — before his guineas fairly scorched me. I held on 
 my way for a mile or more. You may have observed, 
 ladies, that I limp in my walk ? It is the effect of 
 an old wound. But, I declare to you, my limp was 
 nothing to the thought I dragged with me — the 
 recollection of the Major's face and the expression 
 that had come over it when I had first confessed my 
 errand. All his subsequent kindness, his sympathy, 
 his hospitality, his frank and easy talk, could not wipe 
 out that recollection. I had sold something which for 
 years it had been my pride to keep. I had forced it 
 on an unwilling buyer. I had taken the money of a 
 poor man, and had given him in exchange— what ? 
 You remember, ladies, those words of Shakespeare — 
 good words, although he puts them into the mouth of 
 a villain — that 
 
 " ' . . .He who filches from me my good name 
 Robs me of that which not enriches him 
 And makes me poor indeed.' 
 
 " No one had filched my honour — I had sold it to 
 a good man, but yet without enriching him, while in
 
 THE FLAG AND THE CASHBOX 153 
 
 the loss of it I knew myself poor indeed. At the 
 second milestone I turned back, more eager now to 
 find the Major again and get rid of the money than 
 ever I had been to obtain it. 
 
 " My face was no sooner turned again towards the 
 cottage than I broke into a run, and so good pace I 
 made between running and walking that it cannot 
 have been more than an hour from my leaving the 
 garden before I arrived back at the head of the lane. 
 The evening was dusking in, but by no means dark as 
 yet, even though a dark cloud had crept up from the 
 west and overhung the plantation to the right. I 
 looked down the lane as I entered it, and again — yes, 
 ladies, as surely as before — I saw a man cross it from 
 the garden gate and step into the plantation ! 
 
 " Who the man was I could not tell, the liglit 
 being so uncertain. Although he crossed the lane 
 just where Coffin had crossed it and disappeared in 
 just the same manner, I had an impression that he 
 was not^Coffin, and that his gait, for one thing, differed 
 from Coffin's. But I tell you this for what it is worth : 
 I was startled, you may be sure, and hurried down the 
 lane after him even quicker than I had hurried after 
 the first man ; but when I came to the stile, he, like 
 the first man, had vanished, and within the plantation 
 it was impossible by this time to see more than twenty 
 yards deep. 
 
 " Again I turned and crossed the lane to the 
 garden gate. A sort of twilight lay over the turf 
 between me and the summer-house, and beneath the 
 apple-trees skirting my path to it on the left you
 
 154 POISON ISLAND 
 
 might say that it was night ; but the water at the foot 
 of the garden threw up a sort of glimmer, and there 
 was a glimmer, too, on the vane above the flagstaff. 
 I noted this and that, though my eyes were searching 
 for Major Brooks in the dark shadow under the pent 
 of the summer-house. 
 
 " Towards this I stepped ; but in the dark I must 
 have walked a few feet wide of the straight line, 
 for I remember brushing against a low-growing 
 branch of one of the apple-trees, and this must have 
 caught in my eyeglass-ribbon and torn it, for when 
 I came to fumble for them a few seconds later to help 
 my sight, the glasses were gone. 
 
 "By this time I had reached the summer-house 
 and come to a halt, three paces, maybe, from 
 the doorstep. * Major Brooks ! ' I called softly, 
 and then again, but a thought louder, * Major 
 Brooks ! ' 
 
 "There was no answer, ladies, and I turned 
 myself half about, uncertain whether to go back up 
 the lane and knock at the front door or to seek my 
 way to the house through the garden. Just then 
 my boot touched something soft, and I bent and saw 
 the Major's body stretched across the step close 
 beside my ankles. I stooped lower and put down 
 a hand. It touched his shoulder, and then the 
 ground beneath his shoulder, and the ground was 
 moist. I drew my hand back with a shiver, and 
 just at that moment, as I stared at my iSngers, the 
 heavy cloud beyond the plantation lifted itself clear 
 of the trees and let the last of the daylight through
 
 THE FLAG AND THE CASHBOX 155 
 
 — enough to show me a dark stain running from my 
 finger-tips and trickling towards the palm. 
 
 " And then, ladies — at first I thought of no danger 
 to myself, but ran for the gate, still groping as I 
 went, for my eyeglasses ; stumbled across the lane 
 somehow, and over the stile in vain chase of the 
 man I had glimpsed two minutes before. I say a 
 vain chase, for I had not plunged twenty yards into 
 the plantation before — short-sighted mole that I am — 
 I had lost the track. I pulled up, on the point of 
 shouting for help, and with that there flashed on 
 me the thought of the Major's guineas in my pocket. 
 If I called for help I called down suspicion on 
 myself, and suspicion enough to damn me. How 
 could I explain my presence in the garden? How 
 could I account for the money — straight from the 
 Major's cashbox ? " 
 
 Captain Branscome paused and gazed around 
 upon us as if caught once more in that terrible 
 moment of choice. Miss Belcher met his gaze and 
 nodded. 
 
 " So the upshot was that you ran for it ? Well, 
 I can't say that I blame you. But, as it happens, 
 if you had stood still the cashbox might have helped 
 to clear you; for it was found next morning, half a 
 mile away in the brook, below my lodge-gate." 
 
 "And there's one thing," said Plinny, "we may 
 thank God for, if it is possible to be thankful for 
 anything in this dreadful business. The murderer, 
 whoever he was, got little profit from his crime, for 
 I know pretty well the state of your poor father's
 
 156 POISON ISLAND 
 
 finances, Harry ; and if, as Captain Branscome tells 
 us, he had taken ten guineas from the box, there 
 must have been very few left in it." 
 
 "My good soul," said Miss Belcher, "the man 
 wasn't after money ! He wanted the map this Captain 
 Coffin had left in the Major's keeping. That's as 
 plain as the nose on your good, dear face. If the 
 map happened to be in the cashbox, and I'll bet ten 
 to one it wasn't " 
 
 " You may bet ten thousand to one ! " I cried. 
 "It was never in the cashbox at all. It was wrapped 
 up in the flag my father carried into the house." 
 
 " Bless the boy," said Miss Belcher ; " he's not 
 half a fool, after all ! Yes, yes — where is the flag ? " 
 
 "On the flagstaff," said I. "I hoisted it there 
 this morning." 
 
 " Eh ? " 
 
 " And here," I panted, jumping up in my excite- 
 ment, " here is Captain Coffin's map ! " 
 
 I heard Miss Belcher breathing hard as I lugged 
 out the oilskin packet, tore open the knotted string 
 which bound it, and, drawing forth the parchment, 
 spread it, with shaking fingers, on the table.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE CHART OF MORTALLONE 
 
 While the others drew their chairs closer, and while 
 I spread flat the parchment — which was crinkled (by 
 the action of salt water, maybe) — I had time to assure 
 myself that this was the selfsame chart of which 
 Captain CoflSn had once vouchsafed me a glimpse. 
 I remembered the shape of the island, the point 
 marked "Cape Alderman," the strange, whiskered 
 heraldical monster depicted in the act of rising from 
 the waves off the north-western coast, the equally 
 impossible ship, decorated with a sprit-topmast and 
 a flag upon it, and charging up under full sail for 
 the southern entry, the name of which ("Gow's 
 Gulf") I must have missed to read in the short 
 perusal Captain Coffin had allowed me. At any rate, 
 I could not recall it. But I recalled the three 
 crosses which showed (so he had told me) where the 
 treasure lay. They were marked in red ink, and I 
 explained their meaning to Miss Belcher, who had 
 pounced upon them at once. 
 
 " Fiddlestick-end ! " said that lady, falling back 
 on her favourite ejaculation. " Great clumsy crosses 
 
 157
 
 158 POISON ISLAND 
 
 of that size ! How in the world could any one find 
 a treasure by such marks, unless it happened to be 
 two miles long ? " 
 
 She pointed to the scale at the head of the chart, 
 which, to be sure, gave six miles to the inch. By 
 the same measurement the crosses covered, each way, 
 from half a mile to three-quarters. Moreover, each 
 had patently been dashed in with two hurried strokes 
 of the pen and without any pretence of accuracy. 
 The first cross covered a " key " or sandbank off the 
 northern shore of the island; the second sprawled 
 athwart what appeared to be the second height in a 
 range of hills running southward from Cape Alder- 
 man, and down along the entire eastern coast at a 
 mean distance of a mile, or a little over, from the 
 sea ; while the third was planted full across a grove 
 of trees at the head of the great inlet — Glow's Gulf — ■ 
 to the south, and, moreover, spanned the chief river 
 of the island, which, running almost due south from 
 the back of the hills or mountains (their size was not 
 indicated) below Cape Alderman, discharged itself 
 into the apex of the gulf. 
 
 "Without bearings of some sort," said Miss Bel- 
 cher, " these marks are merely ridiculous." 
 
 "You may well say so, ma'am," Captain Brans- 
 come answered, but inattentively. "Mortallone — • 
 Mortallone," he went on, muttering the word over as 
 if to himself. " It is curious, all the same." 
 
 " What is curious ? " demanded Miss Belcher. 
 
 "Why, ma'am, I have never myself visited the 
 Gulf of Honduras, but among seamen there are always
 
 THE CHART OF MORTALLONE 159 
 
 a hundred stories floating about. In a manner of 
 speaking, there is no such shop for gossip as the 
 sea. In every port you meet 'em, in taverns where 
 sailors drink and brag — the liquor being in them — ■ 
 and one man talks and the rest listen, not troublincj 
 themselves to believe.- It is good to find one's self 
 ashore, you understand ? And a good, strong-flavoured 
 yarn makes the landlord and all the shore-keeping 
 folk open their eyes " 
 
 " Bless the man ! " Miss Belcher rapped her 
 knuckles on the table. "This is not a 'longshore 
 tavern." 
 
 "No, ma'am." 
 
 " Then why not come to the point ? " 
 
 " The point, ma'am — well, the point is that every 
 one — that is to say, every seaman — has heard tell 
 of treasure knocking about, as you might put it, 
 somewhere in the Gulf of Honduras." 
 
 " What sort of treasure ? " 
 
 "Why, as to that, ma'am, it varies with the 
 story. Sometimes 'tis bar silver from the isthmus, 
 and sometimes 'tis gold plate and bullion that 
 belonged to the old Kings of Mexico; but by the 
 tale I've heard oftenest, 'tis church treasure that was 
 run away with by a shipful of logwoodmen in Cam- 
 peachy Bay. But there again you no sooner fix it 
 as church treasure, and ask where it came from, than 
 you have to choose between half a dozen different 
 accounts. Some say from the Spanish islands — 
 Havana for choice ; others from the Main, and I've 
 heard places mentioned as far apart as Vera Cruz
 
 160 POISON ISLAND 
 
 and Caracas. The dates, too — if you can call them 
 dates at all — vary just as surprisingly." 
 
 "The date on this chart is 1776," said Miss 
 Belcher, who had been peering at it while the 
 Captain spoke. 
 
 "Then, supposing there's something in poor 
 C?oj0fin's secret, that gives you the year to start 
 from. We'll suppose this is the very chart used by 
 the man who hid the treasure. Then it follows the 
 treasure wasn't hidden before 1776, and that rules 
 out all the yarns about Hornigold, Teach, Bat 
 Koberts, and suchlike pirates, the last of whom must 
 have been hanged a good fifty years before : though 
 here's evidence" — Captain Branscome laid a fore- 
 finger on the chart — " that these gentry had dealings 
 with the island in their day. * G-ow's Gulf,' ' Cape 
 Fea ' — Gow was a pirate and a hard nut at that ; and 
 Fea, if I remember, his lieutenant or something of 
 the sort ; but they had gone their ways before ever 
 this was printed, and consequently before ever these 
 crosses came to be written on it. You follow me, 
 ma am:* 
 
 Miss Belcher gave a contemptuous sniff which, I 
 doubt not, would have prefaced the remark that an 
 unweaned child would arrive unaided at the same 
 conclusions ; but here I interposed. 
 
 " Captain Coffin," said I, " told me that a part of 
 the treasure was church plate, and that he had seen 
 it. He showed me a coin, too, and said it came from 
 the island." 
 
 " Hey, lad ? What sort of coin ? "
 
 THE CHART OF MORTALLONE 161 
 
 But to this I could give no answer, except that it 
 was a piece of gold, and in size perhaps a trifle smaller 
 than a guinea. 
 
 " That's a pity, lad. The coin might have helped us. 
 You're sure now that you can't remember ? It hadn't 
 a couple of pillars engraved on it, for instance ? " 
 
 I shook my head. I had taken no particular heed 
 of the stamp on the coin. 
 
 Captain Branscome sighed his disappointment. 
 
 " The church plate don't help us at all," he said, 
 "or very little. Why, I've heard this Honduras 
 treasure dated so far back as Morgan's time, when he 
 sacked Panama. The tale went that the priests at 
 Panama or Chagres, or one of those places, on fright 
 of Morgan's coming, clapped all their treasure aboard 
 shij) under a guard of militia — soldiers of some sort, 
 anyway — and that the seamen cut the soldiers' throats, 
 slipped cable, and away-to-go. But Morgan ! He 
 must have died before Queen Anne was born — well, 
 not so far back as that maybe, but then or thenabouts. 
 I tell you, ma'am, this story hangs around every port 
 and every room where seamen gather and drink and 
 take their ways again. 'Tis for all the world like the 
 smell of tobacco-smoke, that tells you some one has 
 come and gone, but leaves you nothing to get hold of. 
 Hallo! " 
 
 As the exclamation escaped him. Captain Brans- 
 come, who had casually picked up a corner of the 
 parchment between finger and thumb, with a nervous 
 jerk drew the whole chart from under my outspread 
 palms and turned it over face-downwards. 
 
 M
 
 162 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " Eh ? But see here ! " 
 
 He fumbled with his glasses, while Miss Belcher 
 and I, snatching at the chart, almost knocked our heads 
 together as we bent over a corner of it — the left-hand 
 upper corner — and a dozen lines of writing scrawled 
 there in faded ink. They ran thus — 
 
 1 . Landed by cuttar when wee saw a sail. Lesser Kay N. 
 
 of Gable. Get open water between two kays S.W. 
 and W. by S,, and N. inner point of Gable (where 
 is green patch, good watering) in line with white 
 rock (birds), neer as posb^^ S. a point E. 3 feet bare, 
 being hurried. 
 
 2. Bayse of cliff second hill S.S.W. from Cape Alder- 
 
 man. Here is bank over 2 waterfals. Neer lower 
 fall, 12 paces back from egge, getting island open 
 N.E. beyond rock W. of inlet, and first tree Misery 
 Swamp over Crabtree, W.S.W. Bush above rock 
 to rt of fall. Shaddow I to 4, June 21st, when we 
 left digging. 
 
 3. Iv. bank river, li mile up from Gow crikke. Centre 
 
 tree in clump .5 l^rancli bearing N". and by E. | point, 
 two forks. E. fork 4ft. red cave under hill 4.5 7y'''" 
 foot of tree N.N.W. N.B. — The stones here, under 
 rock 4 spans L side. 
 
 That was all, except two short entries. The first 
 scribbled aslant under No. 1, and in Captain Coffin's 
 own handwriting — so Captain Branscome, who knew 
 it, assured us. 
 
 N.B. — Took out 5 cases Ap. 5, 1806, besides the boddies. 
 ^yging I (3wt. 1 case jewels. We left the clothes, 
 wh. were many.
 
 THE CHAET OF MORTALLONE 1G3 
 
 The second entry appeared to have been penned 
 by the same hand as the original, but more neatly and 
 some while later. The ink, at any rate, was blacker 
 and fresher. It ran : 
 
 S.W. ann. letat. 37. R.I.P. 
 
 The handwriting, though rugged — and the in- 
 different ink may have been to blame for this — was 
 well formed, and, but for the spelling, might have 
 belonged to an educated man. 
 
 The reader, if he choose, may follow our example 
 and discuss the above directions for haK an hour — I 
 will warrant with as little result. Miss Belcher 
 ended by harking back to the summer-house and 
 to the latest crime— if we might guess, the latest 
 of many— for which this document had been re- 
 sponsible. 
 
 " ^Miat puzzles me is this : Since the Major had 
 pockets in his coat, why should he have hidden the 
 parcel as he did ? So small a parcel, too ! " 
 
 " Captain Coffin," I suggested, " may have known 
 that he was being followed." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " And in handing it over he may have warned my 
 father that there was danger." 
 
 " I believe the boy is right," said Captain Brans- 
 come. " Now I recall the Major's face at the moment 
 when I rattled the latch, I feel sure he was on hia 
 guard. Yes — yes, he had been warned against carry- 
 ing this on his person — he was wrapping it away for 
 the time "
 
 164 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " Why, what ails the man ? " demanded Miss 
 Belcher, as Captain Branscome stopped short with a 
 groan. 
 
 " I was thinking, ma'am, that but for my visit he 
 might never have relaxed his guard— that it was I 
 who helped the murderer to take him at unawares. 
 Nay — worse, ma'am, worse — his last thought may 
 have been that I was the traitor — that the blow he 
 took was from the hand he had filled with gold— that 
 I had returned to kill him in his blindness ! " 
 
 Captain Branscome bowed his head upon his hands. 
 I saw Plinny — who all this while had sat silent, con- 
 tent to listen — rise, her face twitching, and put out a 
 hand to touch the captain's shoulder. I saw her hand 
 hesitate as her sense of decorum overtook her pity and 
 seemed to reason with it. And with that I heard the 
 noise of wheels on the road. 
 
 " Hallo I " — Miss Belcher pricked up her ears. 
 " Here's that nuisance Jack Rogers turning up 
 again ! "
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THE COENER CUPBOAED 
 
 Mr. Jack Eogers, as he pulled up by the porch and 
 directed me to stand by the young mare's head, wore 
 a look of extreme self-satisfaction. Beside him, also 
 beaming, sat Mr. Goodfellow, with the corner cupboard 
 nursed between his knees. 
 
 " Capital news, lad ! " announced Mr. Eogers, 
 climbing down from the tilbury. " The filly's pretty 
 near dead-beat, though — must see to her and cool 
 her down before telling it. Now, then, Mr. Good- 
 fellow, if you'll hand out the cupboard. By the way, 
 sonny, I hope Miss Plinlimmon can give us break- 
 fast. I'm as hungry as a hunter, for my part, and 
 deserve it, too, after a good night's work. With my 
 
 fol-de-rol, diddledy " He started to hum, but 
 
 checked himself shamefacedly. " There I go again, 
 and I beg your pardon ! 'Tis the most difficult thing 
 in the world to me to behave myself in a house of 
 mourning." 
 
 Mr. Goodfellow by this time had clambered down, 
 and was embracing the corner cupboard as though he 
 had parted from it for an age, instead of for fifty 
 seconds at the farthest. 
 
 165
 
 IGG POISON ISLAND 
 
 "Carry it indoors, but don't open it till I'm 
 ready," commanded Mr. Eogers, stooping under the 
 filly to loosen her belly-band. " I'm a magistrate, 
 remember, and these things must be done in order. 
 Yon come along with me, Harry ; that is, if you have 
 the key in your pocket." 
 
 " I have, sir." 
 
 " Eight ! Then come along with me, and you'll 
 be out of harm's way." 
 
 So, while Mr. Goodchild carried the cupboard 
 into the house, Mr. Bogers and I attended to 
 the filly. 
 
 This took, maybe, twenty minutes ; but Mr. 
 Rogers was a sportsman, and thought of his horse 
 before himself. Not till all was done, and well done, 
 did he announce again that he was devilish peckish ; 
 nor did I take the measure of his meaning until, 
 returning to the breakfast-room where Mr. Good- 
 fellow sat before a plate of bread and cream, he 
 helped himself to a mass of veal pie fit for a giant, 
 and before attacking it drained a tankard of cider 
 at a single pull, while he nodded over the rim to 
 Captain Branscome, to whom Plinny introduced him. 
 
 " Jack," said Miss Belcher, with a jerk of her 
 thumb towards the Captain, " I'll lay you two to one 
 in guineas, that our news is more important than 
 yours ! " 
 
 " I take you," said Mr. Rogers. 
 
 " It will save time if we tell it while you're eating, 
 and will save you the trouble of talking with your 
 mouth full."
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THE CORNER CUPBOARD 167 
 
 Once or twice, while she abridged Captain Brans- 
 come's narrative, Mr. Eogers set down knife and fork, 
 and stared at her with round eyes, his jaws slowly- 
 chewing. 
 
 " And I reckon," concluded Miss Belcher, " that 
 you won't dispute your owing me a guinea." 
 
 " Wait a bit ! " Mr. Kogers pushed his empty 
 plate away, selected a clean one, and helped himself 
 to six slices of ham. "To begin with, I've found 
 scent and laid on the hounds." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " At St. Mawes. Captain Coffin, the murdered 
 man, landed there from the ferry on the night of 
 the 11th, at a few minutes before nine, and walked 
 straight to the Lugger Inn, above the quay. There 
 he borrowed fifteen shillings off the landlord, who 
 knew him well ; ordered two glasses of hot gin-and- 
 water, drank them, paid down sixpence, and took the 
 road that leads east through Gerrans village. His 
 tale was that he had a relative to visit at Plymouth 
 Dock, and meant to push on that night so far as 
 Probus, and there sleep and wait for Eussell's 
 waggon." 
 
 " But his road," I objected, " wouldn't lie through 
 Gerrans village, unless he went by the short cut 
 through the field beyond St. Mawes, and took the 
 ferry at Percuil." 
 
 " Eight, lad ; and that is precisely what he did ; 
 for — to push ahead a bit — we overran his track on 
 the main road, and, learning of that same short cut, 
 drove back along: the other side of the creek to
 
 168 POISON ISLAND 
 
 Percuil, and bad a talk with the ferryman. The 
 ferryman told us that at ten o'clock, or thereabouts, 
 be was going to bed, having closed the ferry, when 
 a voice on the other shore began bawling ' Over ! ' 
 He slipped on his boots again, rowed across, and 
 took over a man who was certainly Captain Coffin." 
 
 " He was alone ? " I asked. 
 
 " He came across the ferry alone," said Mr. Kogers, 
 " and I dare say he had no idea of being followed. 
 But back at St. Mawes, while he w^as drinking gin- 
 and-water in the taproom, another man came to the 
 door of the Lugger. This man sent for the land- 
 lord — Bogue by name — and asked to be shown into 
 a private room. He was dressed in odds-and-ends of 
 garments, including a soiled regimental coat and 
 dirty linen trousers." 
 
 " The French prisoner ! " said I. 
 
 " That's the man. He told Bogue, fair and 
 straight, he was an ex-prisoner, and off the Wellin- 
 horo transport, arrived that day in harbour. He 
 had money in his pocket — in Bogue's presence he 
 pulled out a fistful of gold — and he pitched a tale 
 that he was bound for his home, a little this side of 
 Saltash, but couldn't face the road in the clothes he 
 wore. You'll admit that this was reasonable when 
 you've seen 'em, for I brought the suit along in the 
 tail of the tilbury. For a pound, Bogue fitted him 
 up with an old suit of his own — coat and waistcoat 
 of blue sea-cloth, not much the worse for wear, duck 
 trousers, a tarpaulin hat, and a flannel shirt marked 
 J. B. (Bogue's Christian name is Jeremiah). The
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THE CORNER CUPBOARD 169 
 
 fellow had uo shirt when he presented himself — 
 nothing between the bare buff and the uniform coat 
 that he wore buttoned across his chest. And here 
 our luck comes in. He was shy of stripping in 
 Bogue's presence, and, on pretence of feeling chilly, 
 sent him out of the room for a glass of hot grog. 
 As it happened, Bogue met the waiting-maid in the 
 passage, coming out of the bar with a tray and half 
 a dozen hot grogs that had been ordered by customers 
 in the tap-room. He picked up one, and, sending 
 the maid back to fetch another to fill up her order, 
 returned at once to the private room. My gentle- 
 man there was standing with his back to the door, 
 stripped to the waist, with the shirt in his hand, 
 ready to slip it on. He wasn't expecting Bogue so 
 soon, and he turned about with a jump, but not before 
 Bogue had sight of his back and a great picture tat- 
 tooed across it — Adam and Eve, with the tree between 
 'em, and the serpent coiled around it complete." 
 
 " The man Bogue must have quick sight," com- 
 mented Miss Belcher. 
 
 " So I told him, but his answer was that it didn't 
 need more than a glance, because this picture is a 
 favourite with seamen. Bogue has been a seaman 
 himseK." 
 
 "That is so," Captain Branscome corroborated. 
 "The man must have been a seaman, and at one 
 time or another in the Navy. There's a superstition 
 about that particular picture : tattooed across the 
 back and loins it's supposed to protect them, in a 
 moderate degree, against flogging."
 
 170 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " Well," said Miss Belcher, " his belonging to the 
 Navy seems likely enough. It accounts, in one way, 
 for his finding himself in a French war-prison. Go 
 on, Jack." 
 
 " The man (said Bogue) faced about with a start, 
 catching his hands— with the shirt in 'em — towards 
 his chest, and half covering it, but not so as to hide 
 from Bogue that his chest, too, was marked. Bogue 
 hadn't time to make out the design, but his recol- 
 lection is there were several small ones — shijDS, foul- 
 anchors, and the like — besides a large one that 
 seemed to be some sort of map." 
 
 " You haven't done so badly, Jack," Miss Belcher 
 allowed. " If the man hasn't given us the slip at 
 Plymouth you have struck a first-class scent. Only I 
 doubt 'tis a cold one. You sent word at once ? " 
 
 " By express rider, and with orders to leave a 
 description of the man at all the ferries. But there's 
 more to come. The man, that had seemed at first in 
 a desperate hurry, was no sooner in Bogue's clothes 
 than he took a seat, made Bogue fetch another glass 
 of grog and drink it with him, and asked him a score 
 of questions about the best road eastward. It struck 
 Bogue that, for a man whose home was Saltash, he 
 knew very little about his native county. All this 
 while he appeared to have forgotten his hurry, and 
 Bogue was thinking to make him an excuse to go ofl 
 and attend to other customers, when of a sudden he 
 ups and shakes hands, says good night, and marches 
 out of the house. Bogue told me all this in the very 
 room where it happened. It opens out on the passage
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THE CORNER CUPBOARD 171 
 
 leading from the taproom to the front door. I asked 
 Bogue if he could remember at what time Coffin left 
 the house, and by what door ; also, if the jDi'isoner- 
 fellow heard him leave ; but at first he couldn't tell 
 me anything for certain except that CofSn went out 
 by the front door — he remembered hearing him go 
 tapping down the passage. The old man, it seems, 
 had a curious way of tapping with his stick." 
 
 Here Mr. Kogers looked at me, and I nodded. 
 
 " Where was the landlord when he heard this ? " 
 asked Miss Belcher. 
 
 " That, my dear Lydia, was naturally the next 
 question I put to him. ' Why, in this very room,' 
 said he, ' now I come to think of it.' * Well, then,' 
 said I, * how long did you stay in this room after the 
 prisoner (as we'll call him) had taken his leave ? ' 
 
 * Not a minute,' said he ; * no, nor half a minute. 
 Indeed, I believe we walked out into the passage 
 together, and then parted, he going out to the door, 
 and I up the passage to the taproom.' * Was Coffin 
 in the taproom when you reached it ? ' I asked. 
 
 * No,' says Bogue ; ' to be sure he wasn't.' ' Why, 
 then, you thickhead,' says I, ' he must have left while 
 you were talking with the prisoner; and since you 
 heard him go, the odds are the prisoner heard him, 
 too.' That's the way to get at evidence, Lydia." 
 
 " My dear Jack," said Miss Belcher, " you're an 
 Argus ! " 
 
 "Well, I flatter myself it was pretty neat," 
 resumed Mr. Eogers, speaking with his mouth full ; 
 " but, as it happens, we don't need it. For when, as
 
 172 POISON ISLAND 
 
 I've told you, we drove around to the ferry at Percuil, 
 and the ferryman described Coffin and how he'd put 
 him across, the first question I asked was : * Did you 
 put any one else across that night ? ' He said, 
 
 * Yes ; and not twenty minutes later.' * Man or 
 
 woman ? ' I asked. * Man,' said he, * and a d d 
 
 drunk one ' — saving your presence, ladies. I pricked 
 up my ears. ' Drunk ? ' I asked. * How drunk ? * 
 
 * Drunk enough to near-upon drown himself,' said 
 the ferryman. ' It was this way, sir : I'd scarcely 
 finished mooring the boat again, and was turning to 
 go indoors, when I heard a splash, t'other side of the 
 creek, where the path comes down under the loom of 
 the trees, and, next moment, a voice as if some person 
 was drowning and guggling for help. So I fit and 
 unmoored again, and pushed across for dear life, just 
 in time to see a man scrambling ashore. He was as 
 drunk as a fly, sir, even after his wetting. Said he 
 was a retired seaman living at Penzance, had come 
 round to Falmouth on a lime-barge bound for the 
 Truro river, and must get along to St. Austell in time 
 to attend his sister's wedding there next morning. 
 Told me his sister's name, but I forget it. Said he'd 
 fallen in with some brave fellows at Falmouth just 
 returned from the French war-prisons, and had taken 
 a glass or two. Gave me half a crown when I 
 brought him over and landed him,' said the ferryman, 
 ' and too far gone in liquor to understand the mistake 
 if I'd explained it to him, which I didn't.' He was 
 dressed in what appeared to be a dark cloth jacket, 
 duck trousers of seagoing cut, and a tarpaulin hat.
 
 THE CONTENTS OP THE CORNER CUPBOARD 173 
 
 * There was just moon enough,' said the ferryman, 
 
 * to let a man take notice of his trousers, they being 
 white ; and maybe I took particular notice of his legs, 
 because they were dripping wet. As for his face, by 
 the glimpse I had of it he was a middle-aged man that 
 had seen trouble.' I asked if he would know the man 
 again. He said, * Yes,' he was pretty sure he would. 
 So there, Lydia, you have the villain dogging Coffin, 
 tracking him to Percuil, and shamming drunk to get 
 carried over the ferry in pursuit. On Bogue's 
 testimony he was as sober as a judge at St. Mawes, 
 and drank but one glass of grog there, and from St. 
 Mawes to Percuil is but a step, mainly by footpath 
 over the fields, with no public- house on the way." 
 
 " H'm," said Miss Belcher ; " and yet he couldn't 
 have been following the man to murder him, or he 
 must have taken more care to cover up his traces. 
 All his concern seems to have been to follow Coffin 
 without being seen by him. Is that all ? " 
 
 " My dear Lydia, consider the amount of time I've 
 had ! Almost before I'd finished with Bogue, and 
 certainly before the filly was well rested, Mr. Good- 
 fellow here had crossed to Falmouth and was back 
 again, bringing the cupboard " 
 
 " Yes, Jack ; you have done very well — surprisingly 
 well. But I'll not hand over my guinea until we've 
 examined the cupboard. Here, Mr. Goodfellow" — 
 she cleared a space amid the breakfast things — "be so 
 good as to lift it on to the table. Harry, where's the 
 key?" 
 
 I produced it.
 
 174 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " A nice bit of work — and Dutch, by the look of 
 it," she commented, pausing to admire the inlaid 
 pattern as she inserted the key. She turned it, and 
 the door fell back, askew on its broken hinges. 
 
 Mr. Goodfellow had carried the cupboard with 
 infinite care, but the contents, I need not say, had 
 mixed themselves up in wild disorder, though nothing 
 was broken — not even the pot of guava-jelly. They 
 included a superannuated watch in a loose silver case, 
 a medal (in bronze) struck to commemorate Lord 
 Howe's famous victory of the First of June, two 
 pieces-of-eight and a spade guinea (much clipped) ; a 
 small china mug painted with libellous portraits of 
 King George III. and his consort ; a printed pamphlet 
 on Admiral Byng ; two strings of shells ; a mourning- 
 ring with a lock of hair set between two pearls under 
 glass ; another ring with a tiny picture of a fountain 
 and urn, and a weeping willow ; a paper containing a 
 baby's caul and a sampler worked with the A.B.C. and 
 the Lord's Prayer and signed " A. C, 1785 ; " a gourd, 
 a few glass beads, and a Chinese opium-pipe ; and 
 lastly, a thick paper roll bound in yellow-stained 
 parchment. The roll was tied about with string, and 
 the string was sealed, in coarse wax without imprint. 
 
 Miss Belcher dived a hand into a fold of her skirt, 
 and drew forth a most unladylike clasp-knife. 
 
 " Now for it ! " said Miss Belchen
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 CAPTAIN coffin's LOG 
 
 As she severed the string the roll fell open and 
 disclosed itself as a book of small quarto shape, bound 
 in limp parchment, with strings to tie the covers 
 together. Its pages, measuring 9| by 8 in., were 64, 
 and numbered throughout ; but a bare third of them 
 were written on, and these in an unformed hand which 
 yet was eloquent of much. A paragraph would start 
 with every letter drawn as carefully as in a child's 
 copy-book ; would gradually straggle and let its 
 words fall about, as though fainting by the way ; and 
 so would tail into incoherence, to be picked up — 
 next day, no doubt — by a new effort, which, after 
 marching for half a dozen lines, in its turn collapsed. 
 There were lacunae, too, when the shaking hand 
 had achieved but a few weak zigzags before it 
 desisted. The two last pages were scribbled over 
 with sums — or, to speak more correctly, with com- 
 binations of figures resembling sums. Here is a single 
 example — 
 
 175
 
 176 rOISON ISLAND 
 
 Ode to W. Bate 
 
 To bacca 9| 
 
 Haircutt ... ... 1 
 
 Bliddin* 18d. 
 
 To more bacca Oct. 10th do. 
 
 Ditto and shave ditto ditto 
 
 Mem. do. to him ... 2s. Cd. 
 
 The fly-leaf started bravely with " D. Coffin, His 
 Book." After this the captain had fallen to practising 
 his signature by way of start. " D. Coffin," " Danl. 
 Coffin," " Danyel Coffin," over and over, and once " D. 
 Coffin, Esq.," followed by " Steal not this Book for fear 
 of shame " 
 
 Danl. Coffin is my name 
 England is my nation 
 Falmth ditto ditto dwelling-place 
 And hopes to see Salivation. 
 
 After these exercises came a blank page, and then, 
 halfway down the next, abruptly, without title, began 
 the manuscript which I will call Captain Coffin's 
 statement. 
 
 " Pass it to Lydia," said Mr. Kogers. " She reads 
 like a parson." 
 
 " Better than most, I hope," said Miss Belcher, 
 taking the book ; and this — I omit the faults of 
 spelling — is what she read aloud — 
 
 Mem. Began this August 15th, 1812. 
 
 Mem. Am going to tell about the treasure, and what 
 
 * Qy. "Bleeding."
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN'^ LOG 177 
 
 happened. But it will be no use witliout the map. If any 
 one tries to bring up trouble, this is the truth and nothing 
 else. Amen. So be it. Signed, D. Coffin. 
 
 My father followed the sea, and bred me to it. He 
 came from Devonshire, near Exmouth. N.B. — He used to 
 say the Coffins were a great family in Devonshire, and as old 
 as any ; but it never did him no good. He was an only 
 son, and so was I, but I had an older sister, now dead. She 
 grew up and married a poultryman in Quay Street, Bristol. 
 I remember the wedding. Died in childbed a year later, 
 me being at that time on my first voyage. 
 
 We lived at Bristol, at the foot of Christmas Stairs, left- 
 hand side going up, two doors from the bottom. My mother 
 from Stonehouse, Gloster, where they make cloth, specially 
 red cloth for soldiers' coats. Her maiden name Daniels, 
 She was a religious woman, and taught me the Bible. My 
 father was lost at sea, being knocked overboard by the boom 
 in half a gale, two miles S.W. of Lundy. I was sixteen at 
 the time, and apprentice as cabin-boy on board the same 
 ship, the Caroline, bound from Hayle to Cardiff with copper 
 ore. I went home and broke the news to my mother ; and 
 she told me then what I didn't know before, that she was 
 very poorly provided for. I will say this, that I made her 
 a good son ; and likewise, that I never had no luck till 
 I struck the Treasure. 
 
 I was born in the year 1750. My father's death hap- 
 pened 17G0. From that time till my twenty-seventh year, 
 I supported my mother. She died of a seizure in 1777, and 
 is buried by St. Mary's Redclyf — we having moved across 
 the water to that parish. Married next year, Elizabeth 
 Porter, in service with Soames Rennalls, Esquire, Alderman 
 of the City. She had been brought up an orphan by the 
 Colston Charity ; a good pious woman, and bore me one 
 child, a daughter, christened Ann— a dear little one. She 
 
 N
 
 173 rOISON ISLAND 
 
 lived aud throve up to the year 1787, me all the time coming 
 and going on voyages, mostly coasting, too numerous to 
 mention. Then the smull-pox carried her off with my 
 affectionate wife, the both in one week. At which I cursed 
 all things, and for several years ran riot, not caring what I 
 said or did. 
 
 "Was employed, from 1790 on, in the slave trade, by 
 W. S., merchant of Bristol. Must have made as many as 
 a dozen passages before leaving him and shipping on tbe 
 Mary Pijnsenf, Pink, Bristol-owned by a new company of 
 a'lventurers. She was an old boat, and known to me, but 
 not the whole story of her. I signed as mate. We were 
 bound for the "W. Coast, about 50 leagues E. of Cape Corse 
 Castle, with gunpowder and old firearms for the natives, 
 that were most always at war with one another. Ran 
 coastwise and touched at three or four places on the way, 
 and at each of them peddled powder and muskets, the 
 muskets being most profitable, by reason the blacks have 
 no notion of repairing a gun. So we, carrying a gunsmith 
 on board, bought up at one place the guns that wanted 
 repairs, and sold them at the next for new pieces. In this 
 way we came to our destination, which was the mouth 
 of a river full of slime and mosquitoes, and called the 
 Popo River. There a whole tribe of niggers put out to 
 receive us. 
 
 They knew the Mary Pynscnf, and worse luck. Her 
 last trip, when owned by Mr. W. S., aforesaid, she had sold 
 them 1500 kegs of sifted sea-coal dust, passing it off for 
 gunpowder, and had made off with £7000 worth of gold 
 dust, besides ivory, tvhite and black, before they discovered 
 the trick. We being without knowledge of what had 
 happened, and having real gunpowder to sell, let the 
 niggers swarm on board, and welcome. Whereupon, in 
 revenge for past usage, they attacked us on the spot and
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN'S LOG 179 
 
 clubbed all the crew but me, that was getting out the boat 
 under the seaward quarter and baling her, but dived as 
 soon as the murder began, and swam to the shore. The 
 shore was mudbanks and reeds and mangroves, and all 
 sweating with heat and mosquitoes. I spent that day in 
 hiding. Towards sunset the savages rafted a good third 
 of the cargo ashore, and, having stacked the kegs and built 
 a fire about them, started to dance, making a silly mock 
 of the powder, till it blew up. Which it did, and must 
 have killed hundreds. 
 
 I heard the noise of it at about two miles' distance, 
 having crept out of my hiding when I saw them busy, and 
 started to tramp it along shore to Cape Corse Castle. I 
 had no food, and must have died but that next morning 
 I fell in with a tribe that seemed pleased to see me ; which 
 was lucky, me having no strength left to run. They took 
 me to their kraal, a mile inland, and to a hut where was a 
 man lying in a fever. He was a man covered with dirt 
 and vermin, but at first sight of his face I knew him to be 
 a white man and English. Ever since my first voyage to 
 these parts I carried a small box in my pocket, filled with 
 bark of Peru, which is the best cure for coast fever. I 
 took out some of this bark and managed to make myself 
 understood that I wanted a fire lit and some water fetched ; 
 boiled up the bark and made him drink it. After that I 
 nursed him for three days before he died. 
 
 The second day he sits up and says in English : " Who 
 are you ? " So I told him. Then he says : " Why are 
 you doing this for me ? You wouldn't do it if you knew 
 who I am." " I'd do it," I said, " if you were the devil." 
 " I am next door to him," he says. " I am Melhuish, of 
 the Poison Island Treasure." " I never heard of it," said 
 I. " There's others call it the Priests' Treasure," says he ; 
 " and if you have never heard of It, yon cannot have sailed
 
 180 POISON ISLAND 
 
 anywhere near the Bay of Honduras." "Never in my 
 life," I said. " My business has lain along the coast for 
 years. But what of it ? " " What of it ? " he says, sitting 
 np, his eyes all shining with the fever, " why, nothing, 
 except that I am one of the richest men in the world." I 
 set this down to raving. " You don't believe me ? " he 
 asks after some time. " Why," I answers him, " this is a 
 funny sort of place for a nabob, and that you must allow ; 
 not to mention," I adds, " that from here to Honduras is 
 a long step." " You fool 1 " said he, " that is the very 
 reason of it. I don't believe in a hell on the t'other shore 
 of this life, whatever your views may be. You go to sleep 
 and have done with it — that's my belief. But I believe in 
 hell upon earth, because I have lived in it. And I believe 
 in a devil upon earth, because I lived months in his 
 company ; but he can't be as clever as the priests make 
 out, because I came here to hide from him, and hidden 
 I have." 
 
 With that he fell into cursing and raving, but after a 
 time he grew quiet again, and said he : " Daniel Cofhn, if 
 that is your name, there's hundreds of thousands of men 
 walking this world would envy you at this moment. And 
 why ? Because I can make you richer than any Lord 
 Mayor in his coach ; and, what's more, I will." 
 
 He said no more that evening, but next day woke up 
 towards the middle of the afternoon, seemingly very clear 
 in his wits, and asked me to slip a hand under his pillow 
 and take out what I found there. Which I took out a 
 piece of parchment. He said : " Coffin, I am going to be 
 as good as my word. That there which you hold in your 
 hand is a map of the Island of Mortallone, where the 
 treasure lies. I will tell you how I come by it. 
 
 " My home," he said, " was St. Mary's, in Newfound- 
 land, which is but a small harbour and a few wood houses
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN'S LOG 181 
 
 gathered about a factory. The factory belonged to a firm 
 at Carbonear, and employed, one way and another, all the 
 people in the place, in number less than two hundred. The 
 women worked at the fish-curing, along with the children 
 and some old men, but the able-bodied men belonged mostly 
 to the Labrador fleet, or manned a two-three small vessels 
 that made regular voyages to the Island of St. Jago to 
 fetch home salt for the pickling. My mother, besides 
 working at the factory, kept a boarding-house for seamen. 
 In this she was helped by my only sister, a middle-aged 
 woman and single. My mother was a widow. She kept 
 her house very respectable, but the business was slight, the 
 town being empty of men most of the year. 
 
 " In the autumn of 'ninety-eight, arriving home with 
 salt as usual from St. Jago, I found a stranger lodging in 
 the house. He had come over from Carbonear Avith a 
 party of clerks, and had taken a fancy to the place — or so 
 he said ; besides which, it had been recommended to him 
 for his health, which was delicate. He was a common- 
 spoken man, aged between fifty and sixty, and looked like 
 a skipper that had hauled ashore ; but he never talked 
 about the sea in my;hearing, and he never mixed with the 
 few seamen who came to the house. He rented a separate 
 room and kept to it. His habits were simple enough, and 
 his manner very quiet and friendly, though he spoke as 
 little as he could help, unless to my sister. My mother 
 liked him because he paid his way and seemed content with 
 whatever food was put before him. The only thing he 
 complained about was the cold. 
 
 " I had been at home for three weeks and a little more 
 when one evening, as I was passing downstairs from my 
 bedroom in the attic, this Mr. Shand — that was the name 
 he gave us — called me into his room and showed me a 
 small bird he had picked up dead on the beach. He did
 
 182 POISON ISLAND 
 
 nob know its name, and I was too ignorant to tell him. 
 "We stood there looking at it nuder the lamp when my sister 
 came upstairs with a note and word that the messenger was 
 waiting outside for an answer. Mr. Shand took the note 
 and read it under the lamp. Then he turned to the fire, 
 and stood with his back to us for a moment. I saw him 
 drop the note into the fire. He faced round to us again 
 and said he to my sister : ' Mary, my dear, here is some- 
 thing I want you to keep for me. Do not look at it 
 to-night ; and when you do, show it to no one but your 
 brother here.' With that he gave her the very packet 
 you have in your hand, shook hands with us both, and 
 went downstairs. We never saw him again. The weather 
 was thick, with some snow falling, and the snow increased 
 towards midnight. We waited up till we were tired, but 
 he did not return that night or the next day. Three days 
 later his body was found in a drift of snow, halfway down 
 a cliff to the west of the town. The right leg and arm 
 were broken and two ribs on the same side." 
 
 I asked : " Who was the man that brought the 
 message ? " Melhuish said : " My sister could not tell, 
 except that he was a stranger. She supposed he belonged 
 to one of two ships that had arrived in harbour the day 
 before. She saw nothing of his face to remember ; his 
 jacket-collar being turned up against the snow, and the 
 flaps of his fur cap pulled down over his ears." 
 
 I asked : " Did the man's chest tell nothing when you 
 came to examine it H " Melhuish said : " Nothing at all. 
 It was full of new clothes, and very good clothes ; but 
 they had no mark upon them, and, besides the clothes, 
 there was not so much as a scrap of paper." 
 
 He went on : " About two weeks later there called a 
 clerk from the factory to claim the chest, the firm having 
 acted as Mr. Shand's agents. He was a foreign-looking
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN'S LOG 183 
 
 man, and older than most of the clerks employed by Davis 
 and Atchison — which was the firm's name. He gave his 
 own name as Martin. He had been sent over from Carbo- 
 near about ten days before to teach the factory a new way 
 of treating seal-pelts by means of chemicals. We learnt 
 afterwards that he earned good wages. He had brought 
 two hands from the factory to carry the chest, which we 
 gave up to him as soon as he presented a letter from Mr. 
 Hughes, the firm's chief agent. He said : ' Is this all you 
 have ? ' And we said, ' Yes.' We kept quiet about the 
 map, which we had examined, but could not make head 
 nor tail of it. He went away with the chest, and we heard 
 no more of the matter. The winter closing in, I took 
 service in the factory. I used to run against this Martin 
 almost every day, but being my superior he never got 
 beyond nodding to me. 
 
 " So it went on, that winter. The next spring I sailed 
 with the salting fleet as usual. I was mate by this time, 
 and had learned to navigate. I came back, to find Martin 
 seated in the parlour and talking, and my mother told me 
 he had asked my sister to marry him. They had met at 
 the factory and fixed it up between them. He appeared 
 to be very fond of my sister, who was usually reckoned a 
 plain-featured woman, and there couldn't be a doubt she 
 was fond of him. Later on, I heard that she had told 
 him all about the chart, but had not shown it to him, being 
 afraid to do so without my leave. 
 
 " He opened the subject himself about a week later, 
 during which I had become very thick with him. He said 
 that, in his belief, there was money in it, and I was a fool 
 not to take it up. I answered, AVhat could I do ? He said 
 there was ways and means that a lad of spirit ought to be 
 able to discover. With that he talked no more of it that 
 day, but it cropped up again, and by little and little he so
 
 184 POISON ISLAND 
 
 worked me up that I took to dreaming of the cursed 
 tiling. 
 
 " This went on for another fortnight, during which time 
 he told me a deal about himself, very frank — as that he was 
 the son of an English sea-captain and a Spanish woman, and 
 was born in Havana ; that he had been educated by the 
 Jesuits, who had meant to make a priest of him ; that, not 
 being able to abide the Spaniards, he had crossed over to 
 Port Royal and studied chemistry in the coUege there. It 
 was there, he said, he had discovered a preparation for curing 
 the hides of animals so that the hair never dropped ofT, but 
 remained as firm and fresh as life. He told me that for this 
 secret Davis and Atchison paid him better than any of their 
 clerks, 
 
 " At the end of a fortnight he sailed for Carbonear. 
 He returned as I was making ready for the summer trip, 
 and laid a scheme before me that took my breath away. 
 He had spoken to Mr. Atchison, the junior partner, and 
 engaged a schooner, the Willing Mind ; likewise a crew. 
 I was to command her, being the only one of the lot that 
 understood navigation. For the crew he had picked up a 
 mixed lot at Carbonear and St. John's — good seamen, but 
 mostly unknown to one another. They were the less likely, 
 he said, to smell out our purpose until we reached the island, 
 and for the rest I might trust to him. He had laid our 
 plans before Mr. Atchison, who approved. If I Hstened to 
 him without arguing, he would make my fortune and my 
 sister's as well. 
 
 " I had never met a man of his quality before. I was 
 a young fool, yet not altogether such a fool but I had per- 
 suaded my sister to hand the map over to me, and wore it 
 always about me. She told me that she had shown it twice 
 to Martin, but never for more than two minutes at a time, 
 and had never let it go out of her hands. I wonder now
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN'S LOG 185 
 
 that he didn'fc murder her for it ; and the only reason must 
 be that he reckoned to use me for navigating the ship, and 
 then to get rid of me. 
 
 " A fool I was even to the extent of letting him talk mo 
 over when I found he had engaged twelve hands for the 
 cruise. There was no reason on earth for this number except 
 that these were the gang after the treasure, and that he was 
 playing with the lot of them, same as with me. 
 
 " The upshot was that we said good-bye to my mother 
 and sister, and crossed over to Carbonear, where I made 
 acquaintance with my crew. The number of them raised 
 no suspicion in the port, because it was taken for granted 
 the WiUi7ig Hind, an old salt ship, was bound for St. Jago, 
 where ten or a dozen hands are nothing unusual to work the 
 salt ; and this was the argument he had used to make me 
 carry so many. Our pretence was we were all bound for 
 St. Jago, and the crew seemed to take this for understood. 
 I didn't like their looks. Martin said they were an ignorant 
 lot, and chosen for that reason. All I had to do was to run 
 south, and he undertook to give them the slip at the first 
 point we touched. 
 
 " He had a wonderful command over them, considering 
 that he was but one plotter in a dozen ; and for reasons of 
 his own he kept them olf me and the map. On our way he 
 proposed to me that I should teach him a little navigation ; 
 helped me take the reckonings ; and picked it up as easy as 
 a child learns its letters. But his keeping watch over me 
 and the map was what broke up the crew's patience. I was 
 holding the schooner straight down for the Gulf of Honduras, 
 and, by my reckoning, within a few hours of making a land- 
 fall, wondering all the while that they took the courses I 
 laid without grumbling — though by this time our course was 
 past all explaining — when the quarrel broke out. 
 
 " I was standing by tlie wheel with a seaman, Dick
 
 186 POISON ISLAND 
 
 Hayling by name, a civil fellow, and more to my liking 
 than the most of them, when we heard a racket in the fore- 
 castle, and by-and-by Martin — he was too fond, to my taste, 
 of going down into the forecastle and making free with the 
 men — comes np the hatchway, very serious, with half a 
 dozen behind him. 
 
 " ' Melhuish,' says he, ' there's trouble below. The men 
 will have it that we are steering for treasure. I tell them 
 that, if you are, they are bound to know as soon as we sight 
 it, and neither you nor I — being two to twelve — can prevent 
 their having the game in their own hands. I have told 
 them, over and above this,' he went on, pitching his voice 
 loud — but having his back towards them he winked at me — 
 ' that by your reckoning we shall sight land in a few hours 
 at farthest, and are wilUng to serve out a double tot of rum ; 
 that, as soon as ever land is sighted, you will call all hands 
 aft and tell them our intention, as man to man ; and that 
 then, if they have a mind, they can elect whatever new 
 captain they choose.' 
 
 *' The impudence of this took me fair between wind and 
 water. I saw, of course, that I was trapped, and naturally 
 my first thought was to suspect the man speaking to me. 
 I looked at him, and he winked again, not seeming one bit 
 abashed. 
 
 " ' You may tell them,' said I, with my eyes on his face, 
 ' that as soon as we sight land I shall have a statement to 
 make to them.' I wondered what it would be ; but I said it 
 to gain time. ' As for the rum,' I went on, ' they can drink 
 their fill. If we sight land, I will steer the ship in.' 
 
 " ' Better go and draw the liquor yourself,' said he, and, 
 picking up a ship's bucket, came aft to me. ' The second 
 barrel in the afterhold,' he whispered. ' And don't drink 
 any yourself.' 
 
 " I nodded, as careless as I could. It seemed a rash
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN'S LOG 187 
 
 thing to go down to the afterhold, where any one might 
 batten me down. But, there being no help for it, I took 
 the bucket and went. I filled it w'ell up to the brim from 
 the second cask, returned to deck, and handed it to the man 
 who stood behind Martin. They took it, pretty respectfully, 
 and went below, Martin still standing amidships, where he 
 had stood from the first. 
 
 " ' And now,' said I, turning back to him, ' perhaps you 
 will explain.' 
 
 "'Keep your eye on the helmsman,' was his answer, 
 * and pistol him if he gives trouble.' 
 
 " He walked forward and stood leaning over the fore- 
 hatch, seeming to listen." . . .
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 CAPTAIN coffin's LOG — cotitimied 
 
 Up to this Melhuish had been making good weather of his 
 tale, though forced to break off once or twice by reason of 
 his weakness. But here he came to a dead stop, which at 
 first I set down to the same. But by-and-by I looks up. 
 He was making a curious noise in his throat, and fencing 
 with both hands to push something away from him. 
 
 " I never done it ! " he broke out. " Take them away ! 
 I never done it 1 Oh, my God ! never — never — never ! " 
 
 With that he ran off into a string of prayers and 
 cursings, all mixed up together, the fever shaking him like 
 a sail caught head-to-wind, and at every shake he screeched 
 louder. 
 
 " I won't, I won't ! " he kept saying. " Hayling, take 
 that devil off and cover them up. The boat, Hayling 1 
 Fetch the boat and cover them up ! " Then, a little after : 
 " "Who says the anchor's fouled ? How can I tell for the 
 noise ? Tell them, less noise below. I never done it, tell 
 them ! And take his grinning face out of the way, or you'll 
 never get it clear ! 'Tisn't Christian burial — look at their 
 fins ! D — n them, Hayling, look at their fins ! Three feet 
 of sand, or they'll never stay covered. Who says as I 
 poisoned them ? HayUng knows. Where is Hayling ? " 
 
 I am writing down all I can remember ; but there was 
 more — a heap of it — that I did not catch, being kept busy 
 
 Xb8
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN'S LOG 189 
 
 holding him down till the strength went out of him and he 
 lay quiet ; which he did in time, the shivers running down 
 through him between my hands, and his voice muttering on 
 without a stop. 
 
 For an hour I sat, hoping he would fall asleep ; for his 
 voice weakened little by little, and by-and-by he just lay and 
 stared up at the roof, with only his lips moving. After that 
 I must have dropped off in a doze ; for I came to myself 
 with a start, thinking that I heard him speak to me. It was 
 the rattle in his throat. He lay just the same, with his 
 eyes staring ; but, putting out a hand to him, I knew at 
 once that the man was dead as a nail. 
 
 I had now to think of myself, for I knew that the 
 niggers in the kraal had not spared me out of kindness, but 
 only that I might attend to the white man, who was their 
 friend. They were even ignorant enough to believe that 
 I had killed him. I worked out my plan : (1) I must run 
 for it ; (2) the village was asleep, and the sooner I ran the 
 better ; (3) they had met me heading for Cape Corse Castle, 
 and would hunt me in that direction — therefore I had best 
 go straight back on my steps ; (4) they were less likely to 
 chase me that way because it led into the Popo country, and 
 Melhuish had told me that these men were Alampas, and 
 afraid of the Popo tribes. True, if I headed back, there 
 was the river between me and Whydah, the nearest station 
 to eastward ; but to get across it I must trust to luck. 
 
 I crept out of the hut. The night was black as my hat, 
 almost, and no guard set. At the edge of the kraal I made 
 a dash for it, and kept running for three miles. After that 
 I ran sometimes, and sometimes walked. The sun was up 
 and the day growing hot when I came to the shore by the 
 river ; and there in the offing lay the Mary Pynsent at 
 anchor, just as if nothing had happened, and the boat made 
 fast alongside as I had left her. If I could swim out and
 
 190 POISON ISLAND 
 
 get iuto the boat, my job was done. I hatl not thought 
 upon sharks while swimming ashore, but now I thought of 
 them, and it gave me the creeps. I dare say I sat on the 
 shore for an hour, staring at the boat before I made up my 
 mind to risk it. There was a plenty of sharks, too. When 
 I reached the boat and climbed aboard of her, I took a look 
 around and saw their fins playing about in the shallows, 
 being drawn off there by the dead bodies the gunpowder 
 had blown into the water. 
 
 The boat had a mast and spritsail. I reckoned that 
 I would wait until sunset, then hoist sail and hold on past 
 the river and along shore towards Whydah. I counted on 
 a breeze coming off shore towards evening, which it did, 
 and blew all night, so stiff that at two miles' distance, 
 which I kept by guess, I could smell the stink of swamps. 
 I ought to say here that, before starting, I had climbed 
 aboard the Mary Pynsent and provisioned the boat. The 
 niggers had left a few stores, but the mess on board made 
 me sick. 
 
 The breeze held all night, and towards daybreak fresh- 
 ened so that I reckoned myself safe against any canoe 
 overtaking me if any should put out from shore ; for my 
 boat, with the wind on her quarter, was making from six to 
 seven knots. She measured seventeen feet. 
 
 The breeze dried up as the day grew hotter, and in the 
 end I downed sail and rowed the last few miles. I knew 
 "VYhydah pretty well, having had dealings there. It is a 
 fine place, with orange-trees growing wild and great green 
 meadows, and rivers chock full of fish, and the whole of it 
 full of fever as an egg is of meat. The factory there was 
 kept by an old man, an Englishman, who pretended to be 
 Dutch and called himself Klootz, but was known to all as 
 Bristol Pete. The building stood on a rise at the back of 
 the swamps. It had a verandah in front, with a tier of
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN'S LOG 191 
 
 guns which he loaded and fired off on King George's birth- 
 day, and in the rear a hell of a barracks, where he kept the 
 slaves, ready for dealing. He was turned sixty and grown 
 careless in his talk, and he lived there with nine wives and 
 ten strapping daughters. Sons did not thrive with him, 
 somehow. In the matter of men he was short-handed, his 
 habit being to entice seamen off the ships trading there to 
 take service with him on the promise of marrying them up 
 to his daughters. It looked like a good speculation, for the 
 old man had money. But every one of the women was a 
 widow, and the most of them widowed two deep. The 
 climate never agreed with the poor fellows, and just now 
 he had over four hundred slaves in barracks, and only one 
 son-in-law, an Englishman, to look after them. 
 
 The old man made me welcome. A father couldn't 
 have shown himself kinder, and when I told him about the 
 Mary Pynsent he could scarce contain himself. 
 
 " If there's one thing more than another I enjoy at my 
 age," said he, " 'tis a salvage job." 
 
 And he actually left the agent — A. G. — in charge of the 
 slaves for three days, while he and I and three of the women 
 took boat and went after the vessel. We found her still at 
 her moorings, and brought her round to "Whydah, he and 
 me working her with the youngest of the three (Sarah by 
 name), while the two others cleaned ship. I cannot say 
 why exactly, but this woman appeared superior to her 
 sisters, besides being the best looking. The old man — he 
 had an eye lifting for everything — took notice of this 
 almost before I knew it myself, and put it to me that I 
 couldn't do better than to marry her. The woman, being 
 asked, was willing. She had lost two husbands already, she 
 told me, but the third time was luck. Her father read the 
 service over us, out of a Testament he always carried in 
 his pocket. As for me, since my poor wife's death I had
 
 192 POISON ISLAND 
 
 thoroughly given myself over to the devil, and did not care. 
 Old Klootz was first-rate company, too ; though living in 
 that forsaken place he seemed to be a dictionary about every 
 ship that had sailed the seas for forty years past, and to 
 know every scandal about her. He listened, too, though he 
 seemed to be talking in his full-hearted way all the time. 
 And the end was that I told him about Melhuish, and showed 
 him the map. 
 
 He had heard about Melhuish, as about everything else ; 
 but the map did truly — I think — surprise him. We studied 
 it together, and he wound up by saying — 
 
 " There's a clever fellow somewhere at the bottom of 
 this, and I should like to make his acquaintance." 
 
 Said I : " Then you believe there is such a treasure 
 hidden ? " 
 
 " Lord love you," said he, " I know all about that I It 
 aappened in the year '8G at Puerto Bello. A Spaniard, 
 Bartholomew Diaz, that had been flogged for some trouble 
 in the mines, stirred up a revolt among the niggers and half- 
 breeds, and came marching down upon the coast at the head 
 of fourteen thousand or fifteen thousand men, sacking the 
 convents and looting the mines on his way. He gave him- 
 self out to be some sort of religious prophet, and this 
 brought the blacks like flies round a honey-pot. The news 
 of it caught Puerto Bello at a moment when there was not 
 a single Royal ship in the harbour. The Governor lost his 
 head and the priests likewise. Getting word that Diaz was 
 marching straight on the place, and not five leagues distant, 
 they fell to emptying the banks in a panic, stripping the 
 churches, and fetching up treasure from the vaults of the 
 religious houses. There happened to be a schooner lying 
 in the harbour — the Rosaway, built at Marblehead — lately 
 taken by the Spaniards off Campeachy, with her crew, that 
 were under lock and key ashore, waiting trial for cutting
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN'S LOG 193 
 
 logwood without licence. The priests commandeered this 
 vessel and piled her up with gold, the Governor sending 
 down a guard of soldiers to protect it ; but in the middle 
 of the night, on an alarm that Diaz had come within a mile 
 of the gates, the dunderhead drew off half of this guard to 
 strengthen the garrison. On their way back to the citadel 
 these soldiers were met and passed in the dark by the 
 Rosawaifs crew, that had managed to break prison, and in 
 the confusion had somehow picked up the password. Sparke 
 was the name of Rosawaifs skipper, a Marblehead man ; 
 the mate, GriflSths, came from somewhere in "Wales ; the 
 rest, five in number, being likewise mixed English and 
 Americans. They picked up a shore-boat down by the 
 harbour, rowed off to the ship, got on board by means of 
 the password, and within twenty minutes had knocked all 
 the Spaniards on the head, themselves losing only one man. 
 Thereupon, of course, they slipped cable and stood out to 
 sea. Next morning the Rosaway hadn't been three hours 
 out of sight before two Spanish gunships came sailing in 
 from Cartagena, having been sent over in a hurry to protect 
 the place ; and one of them started in chase. The Rosawai/, 
 being speedy, got away for the time, and it was not till 
 three weeks latet that the Spaniards ran down on her, snug 
 and tight at anchor in a creek of this same island of 
 Mortallone. She was empty as a drum, and her crew ashore 
 in a pretty state of fever and mutiny. The Spaniards landed 
 and took the lot, all but the mate Griffiths, that was sup- 
 posed to have been knifed by Sparke, but two of the prisoners 
 declared that he was alive and hiding. They hanged four, 
 saving only Sparke, keeping him to show where the treasure 
 was hidden. He led them halfway across the island, lured 
 them into a swamp, and made a bolt to escape, and the tale 
 is he was getting clear off when one of the Spanish seamen 
 let fly with his musket into the bushes and bowled him over 
 

 
 194 POISON ISLAND 
 
 like a rabbit. It was a chance shot, and of course it put an 
 end to all hope of finding the treasure. They ransacked the 
 island for a week or more, but found never a dollar ; and 
 before giving it up some inclined to believe what one of the 
 prisoners had said, that the treasure had never been buried 
 in Mortallone at all, but in the island of Eoatan, some 
 leagues to the eastward. But, if you ask my opinion, the 
 stranger that took lodgings with Melhuish was the mate 
 Griffiths, and no other. There has always been rumours 
 that he got away with the secret. Know about it ? " said 
 old Klootz. "Why, there was even a song made up 
 about it — 
 
 •" 0, we threw the bodies over, and forth we did stand 
 
 Till the tenth day we sighted what seemed a pleasant land, 
 And alongst the Kays of Mortallone 1' " 
 
 From the first the old man had no doubt but we had 
 struck the secret. All the way home he was scheming, 
 and the very night we reached Whydah again he came out 
 with a plan. 
 
 " Have you ever read your Bible ? " said he. 
 
 " A little," I said, " between whiles ; but latterly not 
 much." 
 
 " The more shame to you," said he, " for it is a good 
 book. But you ought to have heard of Noah, if you ever 
 read the Book at all, for he comes almost at the beginning. 
 AVell, I've a notion almost as good as Noah's, and not so 
 very different. We will take the Mary Pynsent and put all 
 the family on board, for we must take A. Gr. (naming the 
 Englishman, his other son-in-law), and I don't like to leave 
 the women alone, here in this wicked place. We wiU pack 
 her up with slaves and sail her across to Barbadoes. 'Tis 
 an undertaking for a man of my years, but a man is not old 
 until he feels old ; and I have been wanting for a long time
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN'S LOG 195 
 
 to see if trade in the Barbadoes is so bad as the skippers 
 pretend, cutting down my profits. At Barbadoes we can 
 hire a pinnace. Daniel Coffin, you and me will go into this 
 business in partnership," says he. 
 
 The old fellow, once set going, had the pluck of a boy. 
 The very next night he called in A. G., and took him into 
 the secret, in his bluff way overriding me, that was for 
 keeping it close between us two. That the map was mine 
 did not trouble him. He agreed that I should be guardian 
 of it, but took charge of all the outfit, ordering me about 
 sometimes like a dog, though, properly speaking, the vessel 
 herself belonged to me — or, at any rate, more to me than to 
 him. As for A. G,, he didn't count. 
 
 "We filled up and weighed anchor on August 12, having 
 on board 420 blacks— 290 men and 130 women — aU chained, 
 and all held under by us twenty-two whites, of the which 
 nineteen were women. The weather turned sulky almost 
 from the start, and after ten days of drifting, with here 
 and there a fluke of wind, we found ourselves off the Gaboon 
 river. From this we crept our way to the Island of St. 
 Thomas, three days ; watered there, and fetched down to 
 the south-east trades. The niggers were dying fast, and 
 between the south-east and north-east trades, six weeks 
 from our starting, we lost between one and two score every 
 day. I will say that all the women worked like horses. We 
 reached Barbadoes short of our complement by 134 negroes 
 and one of Klootz's wives. This last did not trouble him 
 much. 
 
 He kept mighty cheerful all the way, although the specu- 
 lation up to now had turned out far from cheerful ; and all 
 the way he kept singing scraps about the Kays of Mortallone 
 in a way to turn even a healthy man sick. I had patched 
 up a kind of friendship with A. G., and we allowed that, for 
 all his heartiness, the old man was enough to madden a
 
 196 POISON ISLAND 
 
 saint. The slaves we landed fetched about nineteen pounds 
 on an average. The cost at starting, from two pounds to 
 three pounds ; but the ones that had died at sea knocked a 
 hole in the profits. 
 
 At Barbadoes Klootz left the womenfolk in a kind of 
 boarding-house, and hired a pinnace, twenty tons, to take 
 us across to the main, pretending he wanted to inquire into 
 the market there. Klootz and I made the whole crew, with 
 A. G., who could not navigate. January 17, late in the 
 afternoon, we ran down upon Mortallone Island and anchored 
 off the Kays, north of Gable Point. Next morning we out 
 with the boat and landed. Time, about three-quarters of 
 an hour short of low water. 
 
 The Kays are nothing but sand. At low water, and for 
 an hour before and after, you can cross to Gable point dry- 
 shod. We spent that day getting bearings ; dug a little, 
 but nothing to reward us. Next day we got to work early. 
 Had been digging for two hours, when we turned up the 
 first body. It turned A. G. poorly in the stomach, and he 
 sat down to watch us. Half an hour later we struck the 
 first of the chests. It did not hold more than five shillings* 
 worth, and we saw that somebody had been there before us. 
 
 The third day we turned up three more bodies, besides 
 two chests, empty as before, and a full one. "We stove it 
 in, emptied the stuff into the boat, and made our way back 
 to the ship. 
 
 The fourth day we had scarcely started to dig before 
 Klootz struck on a second chest that sounded like another 
 full one 
 
 Here Miss Belcher turned a page, glanced over- 
 leaf, and came to a full stop. 
 
 "For pity's sake, Lydia " protested Mr.
 
 CAPTAIN COFFIN'S LOG 197 
 
 Eogers, who sat leaning forward, his elbows on the 
 table. 
 
 " There's no more," Miss Belcher announced. 
 
 "No more?" 
 
 " Not a word." She fumbled quickly through the 
 remaining ^blank leaves. " Not a word more," she 
 repeated. 
 
 "Death cut short his hand," said Captain Branscome, 
 his voice breaking in upon a long silence. 
 
 " Cut short his fiddlestick-end ! " snapped Miss 
 Belcher. " The man funked it at the last moment — 
 started out promising to tell the whole truth, but 
 refused the fence. Look back at the story, and you 
 can see him losing heart. Just note that when he 
 comes to A. G. — that's the man Aaron Glass, I suppose 
 — he dares not write down the man's name. There has 
 been foul work, and he's afraid of it. That's as plain 
 as the nose on my face." 
 
 " But what's to be done ? " asked Mr. Rogers, 
 picking up the manuscript and turning its pages 
 irritably. 
 
 " Dear me," said a voice, " there is surely but one 
 thing to be done ! We must go and search for 
 ourselves." 
 
 We all turned and stared at Plinny.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 IN WHICH PLINNY SURPRISES EVERY ONE 
 
 Everybody stared ; and this had the effect of making 
 the dear good creature blush to the eyes. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, ma'am ? " said Mr. Jack 
 Rogers. 
 
 " It — it was not for me to say so, perhaps." Her 
 voice quavered a little, and now a pair of bright tears 
 trembled on her lashes ; but she kept up her chin 
 bravely and seemed to take courage as she went on. 
 " I am aware, sir, that in all matters of hazard and 
 enterprise it is for the gentlemen to take the lead. 
 If I appear forward — if I speak too impulsively — my 
 affection for Harry must be my excuse." 
 
 Mr. Rogers stared at Captain Branscome, and from 
 Captain Branscome to Mr. Goodfellow, but their faces 
 did not help him. 
 
 " That's all very well, ma'am. But an expedition 
 to the other end of the world — if that's what you sug- 
 gest ? — at a moment's notice — on what, as like or not, 
 
 may turn out to be a wild-goose chase Lord bless 
 
 my soul ! " wound up Mr. Rogers incoherently, falling 
 back in his chair. 
 
 108
 
 IN WHICH PLINNY SURPRISES EVERY ONE 199 
 
 " I was not proposing to start at a moment's notice," 
 replied Plinny, with extreme simplicity. " There will, 
 of course, be many details to arrange ; and I do not 
 forget that we are in the house of mourning. The poor 
 dear Major claims our first thoughts, naturally. Yes, 
 yes; there must be a hundred and one details to be 
 discussed hereafter — at a fitting time ; and it may be 
 many weeks before Ave find ourselves actually launched 
 — if I may use the expression — upon the bosom of the 
 deep." 
 
 " We J " gasped Mr. Kogers, and again gazed 
 around ; but we others had no attention to spare for 
 him. " Wc .? Who are ' we ' ? " 
 
 " Why, all of us, sir, if I might dare to propose it ; 
 or at least as many as possible of us whom the hand 
 of Providence has so mysteriously brought together. 
 I will confess that while you were talking just now, 
 discussing this secret which properly speaking 
 belongs to Harry alone, I doubted the prudence 
 of it " 
 
 " And, by Jingo, you were right ! " put in Miss 
 Belcher. 
 
 " With your leave, ma'am," Plinny Ment on, " I 
 have come to think otherwise. To begin with, but 
 for Captain Branscome the map would never have 
 found its way to the Major's room, where Harry dis- 
 covered it ; but might — nay, probably would — have 
 been stolen by the wicked man who committed this 
 crime to get possession of it. Again, but for Mr. 
 Goodfellow this written narrative vv-ouid undoubtedly 
 have been lost to us, and tlie map, if not meaningless.
 
 200 POISON ISLAND 
 
 miglit liave seemed a clue not worth the risk of follow- 
 ing. In short, ma'am " — Plinny turned again to IMiss 
 Belcher — "I saw that each of us at this table had 
 been wonderfully brought here by the hand of Pro- 
 vidence. And from this I went on to see, and with 
 wonder and thankfulness, that here was a secret, 
 sought after by many evildoers, which had yet come 
 into the keeping of six persons, all of them honest, 
 and wishful only to do good. Consider, ma'am, how 
 unlikely this was, after the many bold, bad hands that 
 have reached out for it. And will you tell me that 
 here is accident only, and not the finger of Providence 
 itself ? At first, indeed, we suspected Captain Brans- 
 come and Mr. Goodfellow : they were strangers to us, 
 and, as if that we might be tested, they came to us 
 under suspicion." Here Mr. Goodfellow put up a 
 hand and dubiously felt his nose, which was yet 
 swollen somewhat from his first encounter with Mr. 
 Eogers. " But they have proved their innocence ; 
 Harry gives me his word for them ; and I do not 
 think," said Plinny, "that you, ma'am, can have 
 heard Captain Branscome's story without honouring 
 him." 
 
 Miss Belcher, thus appealed to, answered only with 
 a grunt, at the same time shooting from under her 
 shaggy eyebrows an amused glance at the Captain, 
 who stared at the table-cloth to hide his confusion, 
 which, however, was betrayed by a pair of very red 
 ears. 
 
 " All this," pursued Plinny, " I saw by degrees, and 
 that it was marvellous ; but next came something more
 
 IN WHICH PLINNY SURPRISES EVERY ONE 201 
 
 marvellous still, for I saw that if one had gone forth 
 to choose six persons to carry out this business, he 
 could not have chosen six better fitted for it." 
 
 From the effect of this astounding proposition Miss 
 Lydia Belcher was the first to recover herself. 
 
 " Thank you, my dear," she murmured ; " on behalf 
 of myself and the company, as they say. It is true 
 that in all these years I have overlooked my qualifica- 
 tions for a buccaneering job ; but I'll think them out 
 as you proceed," 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Plinny, " I wasn't counting on 
 you, ma'am, to accompany this expedition; nor on 
 Mr. Eogers. You are great folks as compared with us, 
 and have public duties — a stake in the country — great 
 wealth to administer. Yet I was thinking that, while 
 we are abroad, there may happen to be business at 
 home requiring attention, and that we may perhaps 
 rely on you — who have shown so much interest in 
 this sad affair." 
 
 "Meaning that we have been dipping our fingers 
 pretty deep into this pie. Well, and so we have ; 
 and thank you again, my dear, for putting it so 
 delicately." 
 
 " But I meant nothing of the sort — indeed I 
 didn't ! " protested Plinny. 
 
 " Tut, tut ! Of course you didn't ; but it's the truth 
 nevertheless. Well, then, it appears that Jack 
 Rogers and I are to be the spotsmen * for this little 
 
 ♦ Miss Belcher was here employing a smuggling term. A 
 " spotsman " is the agent who arranges for a run of goods, and 
 directs the operation from the shore, without necessarily taking a 
 part in it.
 
 202 POISON ISLAND 
 
 expedition, and that you and Captain Branscome, and 
 Mr. Goodfellow, and — yes, and Harry, too, I suppose — 
 are to be the Eed Rovers and scour the Spanish Main. 
 All right : only you don't look it, exactly." 
 
 " But is not that half the battle ? " urged the in- 
 domitable Plinny. " They'll be so much the less 
 likely to suspect us." 
 
 " They — whoever they may be — will certainly be 
 so far deluded." 
 
 " And really — if you will consider it, ma'am — what 
 I am proposing is not ridiculous at all. For what is 
 chiefly wanted for such an adventure ? In the first 
 place, a ship — and thank God I have means to hire 
 one ; in the second place, a trustworthy navigator — 
 and here, by the most unexpected good fortune, we 
 have Captain Branscome ; in the third place, a 
 carpenter, to provide us with shelter on the island 
 and be at hand in case of accident to the vessel — and 
 
 here is Mr. Goodfellow ; while as for Harry " 
 
 Plinny hesitated, for the moment at a loss ; then her 
 face brightened suddenly. " Harry can climb a tree, 
 and the instractions on the back of the map point to 
 this as necessary. Harry will be invaluable ! " 
 
 I could have wrung her hand ; but Plinny, having 
 finished her justification of the ways of Providence, 
 had taken off her spectacles and was breathing on 
 them and polishing them with a small silk handker- 
 chief which she ever kept handy for that purpose. 
 
 " Captain Branscome," said Miss Belcher, sharply, 
 " will you be so good as to give us your opinion ? " 
 
 Captain Branscome lifted his head. " My mind, if
 
 IN WHICH PLINNY SURPRISES EVERY ONE 203 
 
 you'll excuse me, ma'am, works a bit slowly, and 
 always did. But there's no denying that Miss Plin- 
 limmon has given the sense of it." 
 
 "Hey?" 
 
 " To be sure," said the Captain, tracing with his 
 finger an imaginary pattern on the table-cloth, " her 
 courage carries her too far — as in this talk about hiring 
 a ship. A ship needs a crew ; a crew that could be 
 trusted on a treasure-hunt is perhaps the most difficult 
 to find in the whole world ; and when you've found 
 one to rely upon, your troubles are only just begin- 
 ning. The main trouble is with the ship, and that's 
 what no landsman can ever understand. A ship's the 
 most public thing under heaven. You think of her, 
 maybe, as something that puts out over the horizon 
 and is lost to sight for months. But that helps nothing. 
 She must clear from a port, and to a port sooner or later 
 she must return ; and in both ports a hundred curious 
 people at least must know all about her business. 
 
 " I don't say that a ship, once out of sight, cannot 
 be made away with — though even that, with a crew 
 to tell tales, has ^beaten some of the cleverest heads ; 
 but to take out a ship and fill her up with treasure, and 
 bring her home and unload her without any one's hioiv- 
 ing — that's a feat that (if you'll excuse me) I've heard 
 a hundred liars discuss at one time and another ; and 
 one has said it can be done in this way, and another 
 in that, but never a one in my hearing has found a 
 way that would deceive a child." 
 
 " Yet you said, a moment since, that Miss Plin- 
 limmon had given the sense of it ? "
 
 204 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " I did, ma'am. I am saying that to fetch this 
 treasure will be difficult, even if we find it " 
 
 " You don't doubt its existence ? " 
 
 " I do not, ma'am. I doubt it so little, ma'am, that 
 I would ten times sooner engage to find than to fetch 
 it. But I don't even despair of fetching it, if the lady- 
 goes on being as clever as she has begun." 
 
 " What ? " exclaimed Plinny. " I ? Clever ? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed, ma'am," Captain Branscome answered, 
 still in a slow, measured voice. " But, indeed, too, I 
 might have been prepared for it when you started by 
 taking a line that beats all my experience of lands- 
 men; or perhaps in this case I ought to say lands- 
 ladies" 
 
 " Why, what have I done that is wonderful ? " 
 
 " You took the line, ma'am, that, from here to 
 Honduras, what is it but a passage ? A few months at 
 the most — oh, to be sure, to a seaman that's no more 
 than nature ; but to hear it from any one land-bred, 
 and a lady too ! As a Christian man, I have believed 
 in miracles, but to-day I seem to be moving among 
 them. And after your saying that, I had no call to be 
 surprised when you up and suggested a way that would 
 have taken a seaman twenty years to hit upon ! I am 
 not talking about the ship, ma'am. That part of your 
 plan (if you'll allow me, as a seaman, to give an 
 opinion) won't work at all. But the plan in general 
 is a masterpiece." 
 
 " But I do not see," Plinny confessed, with a small 
 puckering of the brows, " that I have suggested any- 
 thing that can be called a plan."
 
 IN WHICH PLINNY SURPRISES EVERY ONE 205 
 
 " Why, ma'am, you have been talking heavenliest 
 common sense, and once you've started us upon 
 common sense there's no such thing as a difficulty. 
 * Let us go to the island,' you said ; and with that at 
 a stroke you get rid of the worst danger we have to 
 fear, which is suspicion. For who's to suspect such 
 a company as this present, or any part of it, of being 
 after treasure ? * Let us make it a pleasure trip,' said 
 you, or words to that effect; and what follows but 
 that the whole journey is made cheap and simple ? 
 We book our passages in the Kingston packet. Peace 
 has been declared with France; and what more 
 natural than that a party of English should be travel- 
 ling to see the West Indies? Or what more likely 
 than that, after what has happened, the doctor has 
 advised a sea- voyage, to soothe your mind ? As for 
 me, I am Harry's tutor: every one in Falmouth 
 knows it, and thinks me lucky to get the billet. It 
 won't take jfive minutes to explain Mr. Goodfellow 
 here, just as easily " 
 
 "And as for me," struck in Miss Belcher, "I'm 
 an old madwoman, with more money than I know 
 what to do with. And as for Jack Eogers, I'm 
 eloping with him to a coral island." 
 
 Mr. Eogers checked himself on the edge of a 
 guffaw. 
 
 "But, I say, Lydia, you're not serious about 
 this ? " he asked. 
 
 "I don't know. Jack. I rather think I am, I'm 
 getting an old woman, mad or not; and the hours 
 drag with me sometimes up at the house. But" —
 
 206 POISON ISLAND 
 
 and here she looked up with one of those rare smiles 
 that set you thinking she must have been pretty in 
 her time — " there's this advantage in having followed 
 my own will for fifty years : that no one any longer 
 troubles to be surprised at anything I may do. 
 You're something of an eccentric yourself, Jack. 
 You had better join the picnic." 
 
 "I ought to warn you, ma'am," said Captain 
 Branscome gravely, " that although the West India 
 route has been fairly well protected for some months 
 now, there is a certain amount of risk from American 
 privateers." 
 
 " The Americans are a chivalrous nation, I have 
 always heard." 
 
 " Extremely so, ma'am ; nevertheless, there is a 
 risk, in the event of the packet being attacked. But 
 I was about to say," pursued Captain Branscome, 
 " that our being at war with America may actually 
 help us to get across from Jamaica to the island. 
 Quite a number of old Colonial families — loyalists, 
 as we should call them — have been driven from time 
 to time to cross over from the Main and settle in 
 the West Indies. But of course they have left 
 kinsfolk behind them in the States ; and, in spite 
 of wars and divisions, it is no unusual thing for 
 relatives to slip back and forth and visit one another 
 — secretly, you understand. I have even heard of an 
 old lady, now or until lately residing in St. Kitts, 
 who has made no less than eleven such voyages to 
 the Delaware — whenever, in short, her daughter was 
 expecting an addition to her family."
 
 IN WHICH PLINNY SURPRISES EVERY ONE 207 
 
 " Good," said Miss Belcher. " I have found some 
 one to impersonate ; and that settles it." 
 
 " I really think, ma'am," said Captain Branscome, 
 " that, once in Jamaica, we shall have no difficulty in 
 finding, at the western end of the island, just the ship 
 we require." 
 
 " Bless my soul ! " said Miss Belcher. " Except 
 for the sea-voyage, it might be a middle-aged jaunt 
 in a po'-shay ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 A STRANGE MAN IN THE GARDEN 
 
 Indeed, the longer we weighed the pros and cons the 
 more feasible appeared the simple adventure. We 
 ran, to be sure, the risk of being waylaid on our 
 passage by an American privateer; but this was a 
 danger incident to all who sailed on board his 
 Majesty's Post Office packets in the year 1814. That 
 anything was to be feared from the man Glass, none 
 of us (I believe) stopped to consider. We thought 
 of him only as a foiled criminal, a fugitive from 
 justice,and speculated only on the chance that, with the 
 hue-and-cry out and the whole countryside placarded, 
 the Plymouth runners would lay him by the heels. 
 
 Undoubtedly he had made for Plymouth. From 
 Torpoint came news that a man answering to his 
 description had crossed the ferry there on the morning 
 after the murder. The regular ferryman there had 
 stepped into a public-house for his regular morning 
 glass of rum-and-water ; and in his absence the small 
 boy who acted as substitute had taken a stranger 
 across. The stranger, who appeared to be in a sweating 
 hurry, had rewarded the boy with half a crown; 
 
 208
 
 A STRANGE MAN IN THE GARDEN 209 
 
 and the boy, rowing back to the Torpoint side and 
 finding his master still in the tavern, had kept his 
 own counsel and the money. Now the hue-and-cry 
 had frightened him into confessing; and his descrip- 
 tion left no doubt that the impatient passenger was 
 Aaron Glass. 
 
 Such a man had been observed, about two hours 
 later, mingling in a fish auction on the Barbican ; 
 and had actually bidden for a boatload of mackerel, 
 but without purchasing. From the auction he had 
 walked away in the direction of Southside Street; 
 and from that point all trace of him was lost. 
 
 Mr. Eogers, who had posted straight to Plymouth 
 from the inquest, spent a couple of days in pushing 
 inquiries here, there, and everywhere. But not even 
 the promise of a clue rewarded him. Two foreign- 
 going vessels and four coasters had sailed from the 
 port on the morning after the murder. The coasters 
 were duly met, boarded, and searched at their ports 
 of arrival — two at Liverpool, one at Milford, and one 
 at Gravesend — but without result. If, as seemed 
 likely, the man had contrived to ship himself on 
 board the Hussar brig, bound for Barcelona, or the 
 Mary Harvey barque, for Rio, the chances of bringing 
 him to justice might be considered nil — or almost 
 nil; for Mr. Rogers had some hope of the Hussar 
 being overtaken and spoken by a frigate which 
 happened to be starting, two days later, to join our 
 fleet in the Mediterranean. 
 
 During the week or two that followed my father's 
 funeral little was said of our expedition, although 
 
 p
 
 210 POISON ISLAND 
 
 I understood from Plinny that the start would only be 
 delayed until she and the lawyers had proved the 
 will and put his estate in order for me. My father's 
 pension had, of course, perished with him; but he 
 left me a small sum in the Funds, bearing interest 
 between fifty and sixty pounds per annum, together 
 with the freehold of Minden Cottage. Unfortunately, 
 he had appointed no trustees, and I was a minor; 
 and even more unfortunately his will directed that 
 Minden Cottage should be sold " within a reasonably 
 brief time " after his death, and that the sum accruing 
 should be invested in Government stock for my 
 benefit; and with this little tangle to work upon, 
 our lawyers —Messrs. Harding and Whiteway, of Ply- 
 mouth — and the Court of Chancery, soon involved 
 the small estate in complications which (as Miss 
 Belcher put it) were the more annoying because the 
 fools at both ends were honest men and trying to do 
 the best for me. 
 
 Of this business I understood nothing at the 
 time, save that it caused delay; and I mention 
 it here only to explain the delay and because (as 
 will be seen) the sale of Minden Cottage, when at 
 length the Lord Chancellor was good enough to 
 authorize it, had a very important bearing on the 
 rest of my story. 
 
 Meanwhile, Captain Branscome had, of course, 
 returned to Falmouth, and would book our passages 
 on the Kingston packet as soon as my affairs allowed. 
 We received letters from him from time to time, and 
 on Saturdays and Mondays a passing call from Mr,
 
 A STRANGE MAN IN THE GARDEN 211 
 
 Goodfellow, on his way to and from Plymouth. He 
 had stipulated that, before sailing with us, he should 
 take his inamorata into his confidence ; and this was 
 conceded after Miss Belcher had taken the oppor- 
 tunity of a day's marketing in Plymouth to call at 
 the dairy-shop in Treville Street and make the lady's 
 acquaintance. 
 
 " A very sensible young person," she reported ; 
 " and of the two I'd sooner trust her than Goodfellow 
 to keep a still tongue. There's no danger in that 
 quarter ! " 
 
 Nor was there, as it proved. Mr. Goodfellow told 
 us that he could hardly contain himself whenever 
 he thought of his prospects ; " for," said he, " I was 
 born a parish apprentice; in place of which here I 
 be at the age of twenty with two fortunes waiting 
 for me, one at each end of the world." 
 
 At length, in the last week of July, Messrs. 
 Harding and Whiteway announced that all for- 
 malities were complete ; and three days later a bill 
 appeared on the whitewashed front of Minden Cottage 
 announcing that this desirable freehold residence with 
 two and a half acres of land would be sold by public 
 auction on August 6, at 1.30 o'clock p.m., in the 
 Eoyal Hotel, Plymouth. Any particulars not men- 
 tioned in the bills would be readily furnished on 
 application at the office of the vendor's solicitors ; 
 and parties wishing to inspect the j)remises might 
 obtain the keys from Miss Belcher's lodge-keeper, 
 Mr. Polglaze — that is to say, from the nearest dwell- 
 in 2: house down the road.
 
 212 POISON ISLAND 
 
 Plinuy, with the help of half a dozen of Miss 
 Belcher's ineu and a couple of waggons, had em- 
 ployed these three days in removing our furniture 
 to the great cricket pavilion above the hill ; an 
 excellent storehouse, where, for the time, it would 
 remain in charge of Mr. Saunders, the head keeper. 
 We ourselves removed to the shelter of Miss Belcher's 
 lordly roof, as her guests; and Ann, the cook, to a 
 cottage on the home farm, where that lady— who 
 usually superintended her own dairy— had offered 
 her the post of locum tenens until our return from 
 foreign travel. By the morning when the bill-poster 
 came and affixed the notice of sale, Minden Cottage 
 stood dismantled — a melancholy shell, inhabited only 
 by memories for us, and for our country neighbours 
 by mysterious ghostly terrors. 
 
 This was one of the many grounds on which we 
 agreed that the Lord Chancellor had acted foolishly 
 in insisting upon a public auction. His lordship, to 
 be sure, could not be expected to know that recent 
 events had utterly depreciated the selling value of 
 Minden Cottage over the whole of the south and east 
 of Cornwall ; that the homeward-trudging labourer 
 would breathe a prayer as he neared it along the 
 high-road in the dark, and would shut his eyes and 
 run by it, nor draw breath until he reached the lodge, 
 down the road ; that quite a number of Christian folk 
 who had been used to envy my father the snuggest 
 little retreat within twenty miles would now have 
 refused a hundred pounds to spend one night in it. 
 So it was, however; and the chance of an "out"-
 
 A STRANGE MAN IN THE GARDEN 213 
 
 bidder might be passed over as negligible. On the 
 other hand, Miss Belcher had offered Messrs. Harding 
 and Whiteway a handsome and more than sufficient 
 price for the property. She wanted it to round off 
 her estate, out of which, at present, it cut a small 
 cantle and at an awkward corner. Moreover, if Miss 
 Belcher had not come forward, Plinny was prepared to 
 purchase. That Miss Belcher would acquire the place 
 no one doubted. Still, a public sale it had to be. 
 
 Early in the afternoon of the 5th, she left us for 
 Plymouth, to make arrangements for the bidding. 
 I did not see her depart, having been occupied since 
 five in the morning in a glorious otter-hunt, for 
 which Mr. Kogers had brought over his hounds. The 
 heat of the day found us far up-stream, and a good 
 ten miles from home; and by the time Mr. Rogers 
 had returned his pack to Miss Belcher's hospitable 
 kennels the sun was low in the west. I know nothing 
 that will make a man more honestly dirty than a 
 long otter-hunt, followed by a perspiring tramp along 
 a dusty road. From feet to waist I was a cake of 
 dried mud overlaid with dust. I had dust in my 
 hair, in the creases of my clothes, in the pores of 
 my skin. I needed ablution far beyond the resources 
 of Miss Belcher's establishment, which, to tell the 
 truth, left a good deal to seek in the apparatus of 
 personal cleanliness ; and, snatching up the clean 
 shirt and suit of clothes which the ever-provident 
 Plinny had laid out on the bed for me, I ran down 
 across the park to the stream under the plantation. 
 
 Little rain had fallen for a month past, and,
 
 214 POISON ISLAND 
 
 arriving at the pool on which I had counted for a 
 bath, I found it almost dry. While I stood there, 
 in two minds whether to return or to strip and 
 make the best of it, I bethought me that — although 
 I had never bathed there in my life — the stream 
 would be better worth trying where it ran through 
 the now deserted garden of Minden Cottage, below 
 the summer-house. The bottom might be muddy, 
 but the dam which my father had built there secured 
 a sufficiency of water in the hottest months. I picked 
 up my clothes again, and, following the stream up 
 to the little door in the garden wall, pushed open 
 the rusty latch, and entered the garden. 
 
 The hour, as I have said, was drawing on to dusk ; 
 and though, perhaps I ought to say, I am by nature 
 not inclined to nervousness (or I had not ventured so 
 near that particular spot), yet scared enough I was, 
 as I stepped on to the little foot-bridge, to see a 
 man standing by the doorway of the summer-house. 
 
 For an instant a terror seized me that it might 
 be a ghost — or, worse, the man himself, Aaron Glass. 
 But a second glance, as I halted on a hair-trigger 
 — so to speak — to turn and run for my life, assured 
 me that the man was a stranger. 
 
 He wore a suit of black, and a soft hat of Panama 
 straw with a broad brim, and held in his hand a some- 
 thing strange to me, and, indeed, as yet almost un- 
 known in England — an umbrella. It had a dusky 
 white covering, and he held it by the middle, as though 
 he had been engaged in taking measurements with 
 it when my entrance surprised him.
 
 A STRANGE MAN IN THE GARDEN 215 
 
 It appeared to me for the moment that I had not 
 only surprised him but frightened him, for the face 
 he turned to me wore a yellowish pallor like that 
 of old ivory. Yet when he drew himself up and 
 spoke, I seemed to know in an instant that this was 
 his natural colour. The face itself was large and 
 fleshy, with bold, commanding features : a face, on 
 second thoughts, impossible to connect with terror. 
 
 " Hallo, little boy ! What are you doing in this 
 garden ? " 
 
 I answered him, stammering, that I was come to 
 bathe ; and while I answered I was still in two minds 
 about running ; for his voice, appearance, bearing, all 
 alike puzzled me. He spoke genially, with some- 
 thing foreign in his accent. I could not determine 
 his age at all. At first glance he seemed to be quite 
 an old man, and not only old but weary ; yet he 
 walked without a stoop, and as he came slowly across 
 the turf to the bridge-end I saw that his hair was 
 black and glossy, and his large face unwrinkled as a 
 child's. 
 
 " Not after the plums, eh ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; and besides," said I, picking up my 
 courage, " there's no harm if I am. The garden 
 belongs to me." 
 
 " So ? " He regarded me for some seconds, his 
 hands clasping the umbrella behind his back. The 
 sight of the bundle of black clothes I carried appar- 
 ently satisfied him. "Then you have right to ask 
 what brings me here. I answer, curiosity. What 
 became of the man who did it ? " he asked, with
 
 216 POISON ISLAND 
 
 a glance over his shoulder towards the summer- 
 house. 
 
 "Nobody knows, sir," I answered, recovering 
 myself. 
 
 " Disappeared, hey ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " I fancy I could put my hand on him," he said 
 very coolly, after a pause. And I began to think I 
 had to deal with a madman. 
 
 " Suppose, now, that I do catch him," he went on 
 after a pause. " What shall I do with him ? In 
 my country — for I live a great way off — we either 
 choke a murderer or cut off his head with a 
 knife." 
 
 I told him — since he waited for me to say some- 
 thing—how in England we disposed of our worst 
 criminals. 
 
 " No, you don't," said he quietly. " You let some 
 of the worst go, and the very worst (as you believe) 
 you banish to an island, treating them as the old 
 Komans treated theirs. Now, I'm a traveller ; and 
 where do you suppose I spent this day month ? " 
 
 I could not give a guess, 
 
 " Why, on the island of Elba. I'm curious, you 
 know, especially in the matter of criminals ; so I 
 came — oh, a tremendous way — to have a look at 
 Napoleon Bonaparte, there. Now I'll tell you another 
 thing : he's going to escape in a month or two, when 
 his plans are ready. I had that from his own lips ; 
 and, what's more, I heard it again in Paris a week 
 later. From Paris I came across to London, and
 
 A STRANGE MAN IN THE GAEDEN 217 
 
 from London down to Plymouth, and from Plymouth 
 I was to have travelled straight to Falmouth, to take 
 my passage home, when I heard of what had happened 
 here, and that the house was for sale. So I stopped 
 to have a look at it ; for I am curious, I tell you." 
 
 He went on to prove his curiosity by asking me a 
 score of questions about myself : my age, my choice 
 of a profession, my relatives (I told him I had none), 
 and my schooling. He drew me (I cannot remember 
 how) into a description of Plinny, and agreed with 
 me that she must be a woman in a thousand ; asked 
 where she lived at present, and regretted — pulling 
 out his watch — that he had not time to make her 
 acquaintance. Oddly enough, I felt when he said it 
 that this was no idle speech, but that only time 
 prevented him from walking up the hill and paying 
 his respects. I felt also, the longer we talked, I will 
 not say a fear of him, for his manner was too urbane 
 to permit it, but an increasing respect. Crazed he 
 might be, as his questions were disconnected and now 
 and again bewildering, as when he asked if my father 
 had travelled much abroad, and again if I really 
 preferred to remain idle at home instead of returning 
 to finish my education with Mr. Stimcoe ; but his 
 manner of asking compelled an answer. I could not 
 tell myself if I liked or disliked the man, he differed 
 so entirely from any one I had ever seen in my life. 
 His questions were intimate, yet without offence. I 
 answered them all, with a sense of talking to some 
 one either immensely old or divided from me by 
 hundreds of miles.
 
 218 POISON ISLAND 
 
 In the midst of our talk, and while he was 
 pressing me with questions about Mr. and Mrs. 
 Stimcoe, he suddenly lifted his head, and stood 
 listening. 
 
 "Hallo ! " said he. " Here's the coach ! " 
 
 I had heard nothing, though my ears are pretty 
 sharp. But sure enough, though not until a couple of 
 minutes had passed, the wheels of the Highflyer, our 
 evening coach to Plymouth, sounded far along the 
 road. 
 
 The stranger pulled out a bunch of keys from his 
 pocket. 
 
 " I will ask you as a favour," said he, " to return 
 these to the lodge-keeper, from whom I borrowed 
 them. Will you be so kind ? " 
 
 I said that I would do so with pleasure. 
 
 " I have been over the house. It appears — the 
 lodge-keeper tells me — that I have been almost the 
 only visitor to inspect it. That's queer, for I should 
 have thought that to an amateur in crime — with a 
 taste for discovery — it offered great possibilities. But 
 never mind, child," said this strange man, and shook 
 hands. " I have great hopes of finding the scoundrel, 
 and of dealing with him. Eh ? ' How ? ' Well, if 
 we get him upon an island, he shan't get away, like 
 Napoleon." 
 
 With these words, which I did not understand in 
 the least, he turned and left me, passing out into the 
 lane by the side-gate. A minute later I heard the 
 coach pull up, and yet a minute later roll on again, 
 conveying him towards Plymouth. I stole a glance
 
 A STEANGE MAN IN THE GAKDEN 219 
 
 at the water, at the summer-house, at the tree behind 
 it. Somehow in the twilight they all wore an un- 
 canny look. On my way home — for I decided to 
 return and take my bath in the house, after all — my 
 mind kept running on a story of Ann the cook's, 
 about a man (a relative of hers, she said) who had 
 once seen the devil. And yet the stranger had tipped 
 me a guinea at parting, nor was it (except metaphoric- 
 ally) red hot in my pocket. 
 
 « « « « « 
 
 Next evening Miss Belcher rode back to us from 
 Plymouth with the announcement that Minden Cot- 
 tage was hers. She had not attended the sale in 
 person, but Maddicombe, her lawyer, had started the 
 bidding (under her instruction) at precisely the sum 
 which she had privately offered Messrs. Harding and 
 Whiteway. There was no competition. In fact, 
 Maddicombe reported that, apart from the auctioneers 
 and himself, but six persons attended the sale. Of 
 these, five were local acquaintances of his whom he 
 knew to be attracted only by curiosity. Of the sixth, 
 a stranger, he had been afraid at first, but the man 
 appeared to be a visitor, who had wandered into the 
 sale by mistake. At any rate, he made no bid. 
 
 " What sort of man ? " I asked. 
 
 " As to that, Maddicombe had no very precise 
 recollection, or couldn't put it into words. A tall 
 man, he said, and dressed in black ; a noticeable man 
 — that was as far as he could get — and, he believed, a 
 foreigner."
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 HOW WE SAILED TO THE ISLAND 
 
 The business of the sale concluded, we had nothing 
 to detain us, and an order was at once sent to Captain 
 Branscome to book our passages in the next packet 
 for the West Indies. Meanwhile we held long dis- 
 cussions on details of outfit, for since our impedi- 
 menta included two moderately heavy chests — the 
 one of guns and ammunition, the other of spades, 
 picks, hatchets, and other tools — and since on reach- 
 ing Jamaica we must take a considerable journey on 
 muleback, it was important to cut our personal luggage 
 down to the barest necessities. We did not forget a 
 medicine-chest. 
 
 On August 28 we received word from Captain 
 Branscome that he had taken berths for us on the 
 Toimshend packet, commanded by an old friend 
 of his, a Captain Harrison. She was due to sail on 
 the 1st. Accordingly, on August 30 we travelled 
 down by Royal Mail to Falmouth, Mr. Rogers 
 following that same noon by the Highflyer ; spent a 
 busy day in making some last purchases, and a sleep- 
 less night in the noisiest of hotels ; and went on board 
 soon after breakfast, to be welcomed there by Mr. 
 
 220
 
 HOW WE SAILED TO THE ISLAND 221 
 
 Groodfellow, who had got over his parting three days 
 before, at Plymouth, and professed himself to be in 
 the very jolliest of spirits. At the head of the after- 
 companion Captain Branscome met us and conducted 
 us below, to introduce us to our quarters and bo 
 complimented on the thought and care he had 
 bestowed in choosing them and fitting them up — for 
 the ladies' comfort especially. He himself lodged 
 forward, in a small double cabin which he shared 
 Avith Mr. Goodfellow. 
 
 I will spare the reader a description of our 
 departure and of the passage to Jamaica, not only 
 because they were quite uneventful (we did not even 
 sight a privateer), but because they have been cele- 
 brated in verse by Plinny, in a descriptive poem of 
 five cantos and some four thousand lines, entitled 
 " The Voyage : with an Englishwoman's Keflections 
 on her Favourite Element," a few extracts from which 
 I am permitted to quote — 
 
 " We sailed for Kingston in the Tomishend packet. 
 
 The day auspicious was, and calm the heavens ; 
 Not so the scone on board — oh, what a racket ! 
 
 And everything on deck apparently at sixes and sevens. 
 Mail-bags and passengers mixed up in every direction. 
 
 The latter engaged with their relatives in fond farewells ; 
 On the one hand the faltering accents of affection, 
 
 On the other the unpolisht seamen emitting yells, 
 With criticisms of a Custom House official 
 Whose action for some reason they resented as prejudicial. 
 
 " At length the last farewell is said. 
 
 The anchor tripped, the gangway clear'd ; 
 'Twas five p.m. ere past Pendennis Head 
 Forth to th' unfathomable deep we steer'd. 
 The bo'sun piped (he wore a manly beard) ;
 
 222 POISON ISLAND 
 
 And wIiilG th' attentive crew the braces trimm'd 
 (Alluding to the ship's), and while from observation 
 
 The coast receded, we with eyes bedimm'd 
 Indulged in feelings natural to the situation. 
 
 " Albion ! My Albion I So called from the hue 
 Thy cliSs wear by the Straits of Dover — 
 
 Though darker in this neighbourhood — still adieu ! 
 Albion, adieu ! I feel myself a rover. 
 
 Thy sons instinctively take to the water, 
 
 And so will I, albeit but a daughter," 
 
 A page later, in more tripping metre (which 
 reflects her gaiety of spirits), she describes the 
 ship — 
 
 " The Townslmid Packet is a gallant brig 
 Of one hundred and eighty tons ; 
 'Tis the Postmaster-General's favourite rig, 
 And she carries six useful guns. 
 As she sails, as she sails 
 With his Majesty's mails, 
 Hurrah for her long six-pounders I 
 They relieve our fear 
 Of a privateer, 
 But what shall we do if she founders ? 
 I prefer not to think of any such contingency : 
 
 She has excellent sailing qualities, 
 And her captain appears to rule with stringency 
 
 And to be averse from minor frivolities. 
 With the late Admiral Nelson he may not provoke comparison, 
 But one and all place implicit confidence in Captain Harrison." 
 
 While Plinny cultivated the Muse — and with 
 the more zest as, to her pride and delight, she 
 found herself immune from sea-sickness — I kept up, 
 through the long mornings, the pretence of studying 
 mathematics with Captain Branscome, and regularly 
 at noon received a lesson in taking the ship's
 
 HOW WE SAILED TO THE ISLAND 223 
 
 bearings. Our fellow-voyagers were mostly merchants 
 and agents bound for Jamaica, the trade of which had 
 revived since the restoration of peace ; and among 
 them we passed for a well-to-do family travelling 
 partly for pleasure to visit the island, but partly also 
 with an idea of buying a plantation and settling 
 there — which explained the presence of Mr. Good- 
 fellow. 
 
 Our captain justified the confidence so poetically 
 expressed above. He sailed his ship along steadily, 
 taking no risks, and after a pleasant passage of thirty- 
 six days brought her to anchor in Carlisle Bay, 
 Barbadoes, where we were due to deliver some bags 
 of mails. I have said that the trip was uneventful ; 
 it was even without incident save for some fooleries on 
 reaching the Line, and such trifling distractions as an 
 unsuccessful attempt to shoot an albatross, and the 
 sighting of some flying-fish and sundry long-tailed 
 birds which the sailors called boatswains. But, as 
 Plinny wrote — 
 
 " Life at sea has a natural monotony 
 
 Of which 'twere irrational to complain : 
 You cannot, for instance, study botany 
 
 As in an English country lane. 
 But the mind is superior to distance 
 
 With its own reminiscences stored, 
 Not to mention the spiritual assistance 
 
 We derived from a clergyman on board." 
 
 (He was a sallow young man of delicate constitu- 
 tion, and, partly for his health's sake, had accepted 
 the pastorate of a Genevan church in Kingston.) 
 
 From Barbadoes we beat up for Jamaica, and
 
 224 POISON ISLAND 
 
 anchored in Kingston Harbour just forty-five days 
 from home. The next morning we said farewell to 
 the ship, and were rowed ashore to a good hotel, where 
 we spent a lazy week in small excursions, while 
 Captain Branscome busied himself in hiring a mule- 
 train and holding consultations with a firm of 
 merchants, Messrs. Cox and Roebuck, to whom Miss 
 Belcher came recommended with a letter of credit. 
 These gentlemen, understanding that we desired to 
 cross over to the Main to visit some relations of Miss 
 Belcher resident in Virginia (for that was our pre- 
 tence), opined that the matter was not difficult of 
 management, but that we must needs travel to the 
 extreme west of the island if we would hire a vessel 
 for the purpose, and they mentioned an agent of theirs 
 at Savannah-la-Mar — Jacob Paz by name — as the 
 likeliest man for our purpose. 
 
 Armed with a letter of introduction to this man, 
 in the early morning of October 22 we started on 
 muleback, and, travelling without haste through the 
 exquisite scenery of Jamaica (the main roads of which 
 put ours of Cornwall to shame), arrived at Savannah- 
 la-Mar on the 27th, a great part of the way having 
 been occupied by Miss Belcher (who hated the sight 
 of a negro) in rebuking Plinny's sentimental objections 
 to slavery, and by Mr. Rogers in begging a collection 
 of humming-birds. 
 
 It took (I believe) some time at Savannah-la-Mar 
 to convince Mr. Paz, a subtle half-breed, that we were 
 actually fools enough to wish to purchase one of his 
 vessels, and mad enough to propose working her alone.
 
 HOW WE SAILED TO THE ISLAND 225 
 
 He had three boats idle, including a pretty little fore- 
 and-aft schooner of thirty tons, the E'tj^rieUa, which 
 Captain Branscome had no sooner set eyes upon than 
 he decided to be the very thing for our purpose. She 
 was fitted with a large ladies' cabin aft of the com- 
 panion, a saloon, and a small single-berth cabin 
 between it and the fo'c's'le, which would house three 
 men comfortably. We ended by purchasing her for 
 three hundred and seventy pounds; and into the fo'c's'le 
 I went with Mr. Groodfellow and Mr. Jack Eogers, who 
 insisted on resigning the spare cabin to Captain Brans- 
 come — henceforward, or until we should reach the 
 island, by consent the leader of the expedition. 
 
 So on October 30, at six in the morning, after 
 being commended to God by Mr. Paz, we worked out 
 of Savannah-la-Mar, and, having gained an offing with 
 a light breeze, hoisted all her bits of canvas, even to a 
 light jib-topsail we found on board — chiefly, I think, 
 to impress her late owner, whom we could descry 
 on the shore, watching us. He had steadily refused 
 to believe us capable of handling a boat, whereas of 
 our party Plinny and Mr. Goodfellow were the only 
 landlubbers. Miss Belcher could take the helm with 
 the best of us ; and indeed it was reported of her that 
 she had on more than one occasion played helms- 
 woman to a run of goods upon her own Cornish estate. 
 Mr. Jack Rogers had once owned a yacht and suffered 
 from tedium ; now, as a foremast hand, he was enjoying 
 himself amazingly. 
 
 But the pride above all prides was Captain Brans- 
 come's. After many years he trod a deck again, 
 
 Q
 
 226 POISON ISLAND 
 
 commander of his own ship ; and the bearing of the 
 man was that of a prince restored after long exile to 
 his kingdom. Courteous as ever to the ladies, to the 
 rest of us he behaved as a master, noble but severe, 
 unwearied in explaining the least minutia? of seaman- 
 ship, inexorable in seeing that his smallest instruction 
 was obeyed. Mr. Kogers at the end of the first day 
 confided to me that he had much ado to refrain from 
 touching his forelock whenever he heard the skipper's 
 voice. 
 
 I shall not be believed if I say that in all the five 
 days of our voyage Captain Branscome never snatched 
 a wink of sleep. Doubtless he did sleep, between 
 whiles ; but doubtless also no one saw him do it. 
 
 It was daybreak or thereabouts on the morning of 
 November 5 — and a faint light coming through the 
 decklight over the fo'c's'le — when I, that had kept the 
 middle watch and was now snoring in my bunk, sat up 
 at a touch on my shoulder, and stared, rubbing my 
 eyes, into the dim face of Mr. Goodfellow. 
 
 " Skipper wants you on deck," he announced. 
 " We've lifted something on the starboard bow, and 
 he swears 'tis the Island."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 WE ANCHOR OFF THE ISLAND 
 
 The word fetched me out of my bunk like a shot from 
 a gun. I ran past liim, scrambled up the fo'c's'le 
 ladder, and gained the deck in time to see Miss 
 Belcher emerge from the after-companion upon the 
 dawn, her hair in a " bun," her bare feet thrust into 
 loose felt slippers, her form wrapped in a Newmarket 
 overcoat closely buttoned over her robe de nuit. 
 
 " The Island, ma'am ! " announced Captain Brans- 
 come from the helm ; and, turning there by the 
 fo'c's'le hatch and following the gesture of his hand, 
 I descried a purplish smear on the southern horizon. 
 To me it looked but a low-lying cloud or a fogbank. 
 
 " I'll take your word for it," answered Miss 
 Belcher, calmly. " You have timed it well, Captain 
 Branscome." 
 
 " Under Providence, ma'am," the Captain corrected 
 her, and called to me to take the wheel while he 
 fetched out his chart and unrolled it for her inspection. 
 " We are running straight down upon the northern 
 end of it, and our best anchorage (if I may suggest) 
 lies to the south'ard — in Gow's Creek, as they 
 call it."
 
 228 POISON ISLAND 
 
 He laid a finger on the chart. 
 
 " We rely upon you, sir, to choose." 
 
 " I thank you, ma'am. If (as I doubt not) we 
 find plenty of water there, it will be the best 
 anchorage in this breeze ; not to mention that this 
 Gow's Creek runs up, as we are directed, to within 
 a mile and a half of the No. 3 cache. If you agree, 
 ma'am, I have only to ask your instructions whether 
 to coast down the east or the west side of the Island. 
 The wind, you perceive, serves equally well for 
 both." 
 
 Miss Belcher considered for a moment. 
 
 " The Keys lie to the west of Gable Point, here. 
 By taking that side we can have a look at them on 
 our way." 
 
 " Eight, ma'am. Harry ! " — he turned to me — 
 " bring her nose round to sou'-west and by south, and 
 stand by for the gybe." He hauled in the main-sheet 
 and eased it over. " Now, see here, lad," he called to 
 me sharply as the little vessel yawed : " where were 
 your eyes just then ? " 
 
 " I was taking a look at the land-fall, sir," I 
 answered truthfully. 
 
 "Then I'll trouble you to fix your mind on the 
 lubber's-mark and hold her straight. That's discipline, 
 my boy, and in this business you may want all you 
 can learn of it." 
 
 It was not Captain Branscome's habit to speak 
 sharply. I turned my attention to the card, conscious 
 of a pair of red ears. 
 
 The sky brightened, and within an hour, as we ran
 
 WE ANCHOR OFF THE ISLAND 229 
 
 down upon it at something like eight knots, the 
 Island began to take shape. A wisp of morning fog 
 floated horizontally across it, dividing its shore-line 
 from the hills in the interior, which, looming above 
 this cloudy base, appeared considerably higher than, 
 in fact, they were. The shore itself along the eastern 
 side showed almost uniformly steep — a line of reddish 
 rock broken with patches of green, which we mistook 
 for meadows (but they turned out to be nothing more 
 or less than sheets of green creepers matted together 
 and overhanging the cliffs). Ai its northern ex- 
 tremity, upon which we were closing down at an acute 
 angle, the land dropped to a low-lying, sandy peninsula 
 with a backbone of rock almost bare of vegetation, 
 and beyond this we saw the white surf glittering 
 around the Keys. 
 
 Our course gave them a fairly wide berth ; and at 
 first I took them for a continuous line of sandbanks 
 running in a rough semicircle around the low spit 
 which the chart called Gable Point ; but as we drew 
 level they broke up into islets, with blue channels 
 between, and at sight of us thousands of sea-birds rose 
 in cloud upon cloud, with a clamour that might have 
 been heard for miles. One of these banks — the 
 northernmost — showed traces of herbage, grey in 
 colour and dull by contrast with the verdure of the 
 Island. The rest were but barren sand. 
 
 We rounded them at about three cables' length 
 and stood due south, giving sheet again. Southward 
 from the neck of the peninsula this western side of 
 the Island differed surprisingly from the other. Here
 
 £30 POISON ISLAXD 
 
 were no cliffs, but a flat shore and long stretches of 
 beach, gradually shelving up to green bush, with here 
 a palmetto grove and there a lagoon of still water 
 within the outer barrier of sand. Mr. Jack Rogers 
 had relieved me at the helm, and with the Captain's 
 permission I had stepped below to the saloon, where 
 Plinny was waiting to give me breakfast, and per- 
 suaded the good soul not only to let me carry it on 
 deck and eat it there, but to postpone washing-up 
 for a while and accompany me. To this she would 
 by no means consent until I had brought her the 
 Captain's leave. 
 
 " You may take her my leave," said he, with a 
 sudden flush on his face, " and my apologies for having 
 neglected to request the honour of her company. 
 The fact is," he added, with a hard glance at me, 
 " Miss Plinlimmon's sense of discipline is so rare 
 a thing that I am always forgetting to do justice 
 to it. Were it possible to find a whole crew so con- 
 scientious I would undertake to sail to the North 
 Pole." 
 
 I conveyed this answer to Plinny, and it visibly 
 gratified her. She retired at once to the ladies' cabin 
 to indue her poke-bonnet with coquelicot trimmings. 
 Her apron she retained, observing that on an expedi- 
 tion of this sort one should never be taken at un- 
 awares, and that when at Rome you should do as the 
 Romans did. "By which, my dear Harry," she 
 explained, " you are not to understand me to refer to 
 their Papist observances, such as kissing a man's toe. 
 Were such a request proffered to me, even at the
 
 WE ANCHOU OFF THE ISLAND 231 
 
 cannon's mouth, I trust my courage would find an 
 answer. ' No, no,' I would say, 
 
 " ' I will not bow within the House of Rimmon : 
 Yours faithfully, Amelia Plinlimmon.' " 
 
 As we reached the head of the companion-ladder 
 Captain Branscome, who was standing just aft of the 
 wheel, behind Mr. Eogers's shoulder, and scanning 
 the shore through his glass, made a motion to step 
 forward and hand her on deck. This was ever his 
 courteous way, and I turned a moment later in some 
 surprise, to find that, instead of closing the glass, he 
 had lifted it, and was holding it again to his eye, at 
 the same time keeping his right shoulder turned to us. 
 
 While we looked, he lowered it and made his bow, 
 yet with something of a preoccupied air. 
 
 " Good morning, ma'am. You are very welcome on 
 deck, and I trust that Harry conveyed the apology I 
 sent by him." 
 
 "I beg you will not mention it, sir. It is true 
 that I sufiered from the curiosity which outspoken 
 critics have called the bane of my sex ; yet, believe 
 me, I was far from accusing you, knowing how many 
 responsibilities must weigh on the captain of an ex- 
 pedition, even though it fare as prosperously as ours." 
 
 " True, ma'am." Captain Branscome tapped his 
 spyglass absent-mindedly, and seemed on the point of 
 lifting it again. " Though, with your permission, I 
 will add ' D.V.' " 
 
 « Yes— yes "— Plinny smiled a cheerful approval 
 — " we are ever in the Divine Hand ; not more really,
 
 232 POISON ISLAND 
 
 perhaps, in the tropics than in those more temperate 
 latitudes when, though the wolf and lion do not howl 
 for prey, an incautious step upon a piece of orange- 
 peel has before now proved equally fatal." 
 
 Captain Branscome bowed again. 
 
 " You call me the leader of this expedition. Miss 
 Plinlimmon ; and so I am, until we drop anchor. With 
 that, in two or three hours at farthest, my chief re- 
 sponsibility ends, and I think it time " — he turned to 
 Mr. Rogers — " that we made ready to appoint my 
 successor. I shall have a word to say to him." 
 
 " Nonsense, man ! " answered Mr. Rogers, looking 
 up from the wheel. " If you mean me, I decline to 
 act except as your lieutenant. You have captained 
 us admirably ; and if I decline the honour, you will 
 hardly suggest promoting Harry, here, or Good- 
 fellow ! " 
 
 " I was thinking that Miss Belcher, perhaps " 
 
 " Hallo ! " said Miss Belcher, turning at the sound 
 of her name, and coming aft from the bows, whence 
 she had been studying the coastline. " What's the 
 matter with me ? " 
 
 " The Captain," exclaimed Mr. Rogers, " has been 
 tendering us his resignation." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Mr. Rogers misunderstands me, ma'am," said 
 Captain Branscome. " I merely said that, so far as 
 we have agreed as yet, my authority ceases as soon 
 as we cast anchor. If you choose to re-elect me, I 
 shall not say ' No ' — though not coveting the honour ; 
 but I can only say ' Yes ' uj)on a condition."
 
 WE ANCHOR OFF THE ISLAND 233 
 
 " Name it, please." 
 
 "That I have every one's implicit obedience. I 
 may — nay, I shall — give orders that will be irksome 
 and at the same time hard to understand. I may be 
 unable to give yon my reasons for them ; or able to 
 give you none beyond the general warning that we 
 are after treasure, and I never yet heard of a treasure- 
 hunt that was child's-play." 
 
 He spoke quietly, but with an impressiveness not 
 to be mistaken, though we knew no cause for it. Miss 
 Belcher, at any rate, did not miss it. She shot him a 
 keen glance, turned for a moment, and seemed to 
 study the shore, then faced about again, and, said 
 she — 
 
 " I am not used to be commanded. But I can 
 command myself, and am not altogether a fool." 
 
 The Captain bowed. " I was thinking, ma'am, 
 tliat might be our difficulty. But if I have your 
 word to try " 
 
 "You have." 
 
 " I thank you, ma'am, and will own that my mind 
 is relieved. It may even be that, from time to time, 
 I may do myself the honour of consulting you. 
 Nevertheless " 
 
 " I mustn't count on it, eh ? Well, as you please ; 
 only I warn you that, while in any case I am going to 
 be as good as my word, if you treat me like a sensible 
 person I shall probably be a trifle better." 
 
 For ten seconds, maybe, the pair looked one another 
 in the eyes ; then the Captain bowed once more, and 
 apparently this invited her to step forward with him
 
 234 POISON ISLAND 
 
 to the bows, where they halted and stood conning the 
 coast, the Captain through his spyglass. 
 
 As they left us, Plinny and I moved to the waist 
 of the ship, where we paused by consent, and I 
 resumed my breakfast, munching it as I leaned against 
 the port bulwarks. We were now rapidly opening 
 Long Bay (as the chart called it), a deep recess run- 
 ning out squarely at either extremity, the bight of it 
 crossed by a beach, and a line of tumbling breakers, 
 that extended for close upon three miles. Above the 
 beach a forest of tall trees, in height and colour at 
 once distinguishable from the thick bush we had 
 hitherto been passing, screened the bases of a range of 
 hills which obviously formed the backbone of the 
 island ; and as the whole bay crept into view we dis- 
 cerned in the north (or, to be accurate, N.N.E.) corner 
 of this long recess a marshy valley dividing the scrub 
 from the forest. The mouth of this valley, where it 
 widened out upon the beach, measured at least half a 
 mile across. The chart marked it as Misery Swamp, 
 and indicated a river there. We could detect none, 
 or, at any rate, no river entrance. If river there were, 
 doubtless it emptied its waters through the fringe of 
 grey-green weeds, and dispersed over the flat-looking 
 foreshore ; but even at two miles' distance it looked to 
 be a dismal, fever-haunted spot. 
 
 By contrast, the noble range of woodland to south- 
 ward of it and the rocky peaks that rose in delicate 
 shadow above the tree-tops were beautiful as a dream, 
 even to eyes fresh from the forest scenery of Jamaica ; 
 and while Plinny leant with me against the bulwarks,
 
 WE ANCHOR OFF THE ISLAND 235 
 
 I felt that in the silence immortal verse was shaping 
 itself, which it did after a while to this effect— 
 
 " Arrived o'er the limitless ocean 
 In 16 degrees of N. latitude, 
 Our lips were attuned to devotion, 
 Our spirits uplifted in gratitude. 
 
 " Our hearts with poetic afflatus 
 Took wing and impulsively soared 
 As the lead-line (a quaint apparatus) 
 Reported the depth overboard. 
 
 " Oh, oft had I dream'd of the tropics — 
 But never to see them in person — 
 So full of remarkable topics 
 To speculate, sing, and converse on." 
 
 It was Mr. Goodfellow who worked the hand-lead, 
 under Captain Branscome's orders, from a perch just 
 forward of the main rigging ; but at a mile's distance 
 we carried deep water with us past Crabtree Point, 
 and around the unnamed small cape which formed the 
 south-western extremity of the island. We rounded 
 this, and, hauling up to the wind, found (as the reader 
 may discover for himself by a glance at the chart) 
 that the shore made almost directly E. by N., with 
 scarcely an indentation, for Gow's Gulf. 
 
 Here the water shoaled, though for the first mile 
 almost imperceptibly. The inlet itself resembled the 
 estuary of a mighty river, its both sides well wooded, 
 though very different in configuration, the northern 
 rising quietly from shelving beaches of coral-white 
 sand to some of the most respectable hills in the 
 island, while that on our starboard hand presented a 
 succession of cliff and chasm, the cliffs varying, as we
 
 236 POISON ISLAND 
 
 judged, from two hundred to two hundred and fifty 
 feet sheer. 
 
 In three and a half fathoms (reported by Mr. 
 Goodfellow) the water, which was exquisitely clear, 
 showed good white sand under us. Ahead of us the 
 creek narrowed, promising an anchorage almost com- 
 pletely landlocked and as peaceful as the soul of man 
 could desire. We drew a short eight feet of water, 
 and with such soundings (for the tide had not been 
 making above an hour) I expected the old man 
 to hold on for at least another mile, when, to my 
 surprise, he took the helm from Mr. Eogers and, 
 sending him forward, shook the Espriella up in the 
 wind, at the same time calling to Goodfellow and me 
 to lower the main throat-halliards. 
 
 " Leave go anchor ! " 
 
 With a splash her anchor plunged over, took the 
 ground, and in another twenty yards brought us up 
 standing. 
 
 " Hallo ! " Miss Belcher scanned the shore. 
 " You're giving the boats a long trip, Captain." 
 
 " I take my precautions, ma'am," answered Captain 
 Branscome, almost curtly.
 
 CHAPTER XXY 
 
 I TAKE FRENCH LEAVE ASHOKE 
 
 In a sweating hurry I helped Mr. Eogers and Mr. 
 Goodfellow to furl sail, coil away ropes, and tidy uj) 
 generally. After these tedious weeks at sea I was 
 wild for a run ashore, and, with the green woods 
 inviting me, grudged even an hour's delay. 
 
 We had run down foresail and come to our anchor 
 under jib and half-lowered mainsail. I sprang for- 
 ward to take in the jib and carry it, with the foresail, 
 to the locker abaft the ladies' cabin, when Captain 
 Branscome sang out to me to be in no such hurry, 
 but to fold and stow both sails neatly without detach- 
 ing them — the one along the bowsprit, the other 
 at the foot of the fore-stay, when they could be re- 
 hoisted at a moment's notice. 
 
 These precautions were the more mysterious to 
 me because a moment later he sent me to the locker 
 to fetch up a tarpaulin cover for the mainsail, which 
 he snugged down carefully, to protect it (as he ex- 
 plained) from the night dews — so carefully that he 
 twice interrupted Mr. Goodfellow to correct a piece 
 of slovenly tying. The sail being packed at length 
 
 237
 
 238 POISON ISLAND 
 
 to his satisfaction, we laced tlie cover about it care- 
 fully as though it had been a lady's bodice. 
 
 Our next business was to get out the boats. The 
 Espriella possessed three— a gig, shaped somewhat 
 like a whaleboat ; a useful, twelve-foot dinghy ; and 
 a small cockboat, or " punt " (to use our West Country 
 name), capable, at a pinch, of accommodating two 
 persons. This last we carried on deck ; but the 
 larger pair at the foot of the rigging on either side, 
 whence we unlashed and lowered them by their falls. 
 The punt we moored by a short painter under the 
 bowsprit, so that she lay just clear of our stem. 
 
 This small job had fallen to me by the Captain's 
 orders, and I clambered back, to find him and Mr. 
 Rogers standing by the accommodation ladder on the 
 port side, and in the act of stepping down into the 
 dinghy. Indeed, Mr. Rogers had his foot on the ladder, 
 and seemed to wait only while the Captain gave 
 some instructions to Mr. Goodfellow, who was listening 
 respectfully. 
 
 " Are we all to go ashore in the dinghy ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 The Captain turned on me severely, and I 
 observed that he and Mr. Rogers had armed them- 
 selves with a musket apiece, each slung on a ban- 
 dolier, and that Mr. Rogers wore an axe at his belt. 
 
 " Certainly not," said the Captain. " Mr. Rogers 
 and I are going on shore to prospect, and I was at 
 this moment instructing Mr. Goodfellow that nobody 
 is to leave the ship without leave from me." 
 
 " But " I began, and checked myself, less for
 
 I TAKE FKENCH LEAVE ASHOEE 239 
 
 fear of his anger than because I was actually on the 
 verge of tears. I looked around for the ladies, but 
 they had retired to their cabin. Oh, this was hard — 
 a monstrous tyranny ! And so I told Mr. Goodfellow 
 hotly as the dinghy pushed off and, Mr. Eogers pad- 
 dling her, drew away up the creek and rounded the 
 bend under the almost overhanging trees. 
 
 " AVhen are they coming back ? " I demanded. 
 
 " Captain didn't say." 
 
 " You seem to take it easily," I flamed up ; " but 
 I call it a burning shame ! Captain Branscome seems 
 to think that this Island belongs to him; and you 
 know well enough, if it hadn't been for me, he'd 
 never have set eyes on it. What are you going 
 to do?" 
 
 " Smoke a pipe," said Mr. Goodfellow, " and watch 
 the beauties o' Nature." 
 
 " Well, I'm not," I threatened. " Captain Brans- 
 come may be a very good seaman, but he's too much 
 of an usher out of school. This isn't Stimcoe's." 
 
 "Not a bit like it," assented Mr. Goodfellow, 
 feeling in his pockets. 
 
 " And if he thinks he can go on playing the usher 
 over me, he'll find out his mistake. Why, look you, 
 whose is the treasure, properly speaking? Who 
 found it ? " 
 
 "Nobody, yet." 
 
 Mr. Goodfellow drew forth a pipe and rubbed the 
 bowl thoughtfully against his nose. 
 
 " Well, then, who found the chare ? Who put 
 you all on the scent? Who was it first heard the
 
 240 POISON ISLAND 
 
 secret from Captain Coffin? And this man doesn't 
 even consult me — doesn't think me worth a civil 
 word! I'll be shot if I stand it!" I wound up, 
 pacing the deck in my rage. 
 
 Just then Plinny's voice called up to us from the 
 cabin, announcing that dinner was ready. 
 
 " But," said she, " one of you must eat his portion 
 on deck while he keeps watch; that was Captain 
 Branscome's order." 
 
 "More orders!" I grumbled; and then, with a 
 sudden thought, I nodded to Mr. Goodfellow, who 
 was replacing his pipe in his pocket. " You go. 
 Hand me up a plate and a fistful of ship biscuit, and 
 leave me to deal with 'em. I'm not for stifling down 
 there under hatches, whatever your taste may be." 
 
 "'Tis a fact," he admitted, "that a meal does me 
 more good when I square my elbows to it." 
 
 " Down you go, then," said I ; " and when you're 
 wanted I'll call you." 
 
 He descended cheerfully, reappeared to pass up a 
 plate, and descended again. I gobbled down enough 
 to stay my appetite, crammed my pocket full of ship 
 biscuit, and, after listening for a moment at the 
 hatchway, tiptoed forward and climbed out upon the 
 bowsprit. Then, having unloosed the cockboat's 
 painter, I lowered and let myself drop into her, and, 
 slipping a paddle into the stern-notch, sculled gently 
 for shore. 
 
 The EsprieUa, of course, lay head-to-tide, and the 
 tide by this time was making strongly — so strongly 
 that I had no time to get steerage way on the little
 
 I TAKE FRENCH LEAVE ASHORE 241 
 
 boat before it swept her close under the open port- 
 hole through which I heard Miss Belcher inviting 
 Mr. Goodfellow to pass his plate for another dump- 
 ling. Miss Belcher's voice — as I may or may not 
 have informed the reader — was a baritone of singularly 
 resonant timhre. It sounded through the porthole 
 as through a speaking trumpet, and I ducked and 
 held my breath as the boat's gunwale rubbed twice 
 against the schooner's side before drifting clear. 
 
 Once clear, however, I worked my paddle with 
 a will, though noiselessly ; and, the tide helping me, 
 soon reached and rounded the first bend. Here, out 
 of sight of the ship, I had leisure to draw breath and 
 look about me. 
 
 Ahead of me lay a still reach, close upon half a 
 mile in length, and narrowing steadily to the next 
 bend, when the two shores overlapped and mingled 
 their reflections on the water. On my right the red 
 cliffs, their summits matted with creepers, descended 
 sheer into water many fathoms deep, yet so clear that 
 I could spy the fish playing about their bases where 
 they met the firm white sand. On my left the 
 channel shoaled gradually to a beach of this same 
 white sand, which followed the curve of the shore, 
 here and again flashing out into broad sunshine from 
 the blue shadow cast by the overhanging forest. 
 
 Between these banks the breeze could scarcely be 
 felt, yet, though the sun scorched me, the heat was 
 not oppressive. The woods, dense and tangled though 
 they were, threw up no exhalations of mud or rotting 
 leaves, but a clean, aromatic odour. It seemed to 
 
 B
 
 242 POISON ISLAND 
 
 give them a substance without which they had been 
 but a mirage, a scene painted on a cloth, so motion- 
 less and apparently lifeless they stood, with the long 
 vines hanging from their boughs, and the hot, rarefied 
 air quivering above them. 
 
 At first their silence daunted me; by-and-by I 
 felt (I could hardly be said to hear) that this silence 
 was intense, and held a sound of its own, a murmur 
 as of millions of flies and minute winged things — 
 or perhaps it came from the vegetation itself, and 
 the sap pushing leaf against leaf and ceaselessly 
 striving for room. 
 
 With scarcely more noise than the forest made in 
 growing, I let the cockboat float up on the tide, cor- 
 recting her course from time to time with a touch of 
 the paddle astern ; and so, coming to the second bend, 
 began to search the shore for a convenient landing. 
 The Captain and Mr. Kogers, no doubt, had rowed up 
 to the very head of the creek, and would by this time 
 be prosj)ecting for the clump of trees which were the 
 key to unlock No. 3 cache. To escape — or, at any rate, 
 delay— detection, I must land lower down, and pre- 
 ferably at some point where I could pull up the boat 
 and hide it. 
 
 With this in my mind, scanning the woods on the 
 north bank for an opening, I drifted around the bend, 
 and with a shock of surprise found myself in full view 
 of the end of the creek. Worse than this, I was bear- 
 ing straight for the Uspriella's dinghy, which lay just 
 above water on the foreshore, with her painter carried 
 out to a tree above the bank. Worst of all, some one
 
 I TAKE FRENCH LEAVE ASHORE 243 
 
 at that instant stepped back from the bank and under 
 the shadow of the tree, as if to await me there. . . . 
 Mr. Kogers, or the Captain ? . . . Mr. Kogers certainly ; 
 for I remembered that the Captain wore white duck 
 trousers, and, by my glimpse of him, this man's clothes 
 were dark. His height and walk, too ! Yes ; no 
 doubt of it, he was Mr. Eogers. 
 
 I stood — a culprit caught red-handed — and let the 
 boat drift me down upon retributive justice. A while 
 ago I had been mentally composing a number of 
 effective retorts upon Captain Branscome for his 
 tyrannical behaviour. Now, of a sudden, all this 
 eloquence deserted me : I felt it leaking away and 
 knew myself for a law-breaker. One lingering hope 
 remained — that the Captain had pushed ahead into 
 the woods, and that, as yet, Mr. Jack Eogers (whose 
 good nature I might almost count upon) had alone 
 detected me and would pack me home to the ship with 
 nothing worse than a flea in my ear. 
 
 His silence encouraged this hope. Half a minute 
 passed and still he forbore to lift his voice and 
 summon me. He stood, deep in the shadow, his face 
 screened by the boughs, and made no motion to 
 advance to the bank. 
 
 Then suddenly — at, maybe, two hundred yards' 
 distance — I saw him take another pace backwards and 
 slip away among the trees. 
 
 " Good man ! " thought I, and blessed him (after 
 my first start of astonishment). "He has pretended 
 not to see me." 
 
 At any rate he had give me a pretty good hint to
 
 244 POISON ISLAND 
 
 make myself scarce unless I wished to incur Captain 
 Branscome's wrath. I slipped my paddle forward into 
 a rowlock, picked up the other, and, dropping upon 
 the thwart, jerked the cockboat right-about-face to 
 head her back for the schooner. 
 
 But after a stroke or two I easied and let her drift 
 back stern-foremost while I sat considering. Mr. 
 Rogers had behaved like a trump ; yet it seemed 
 mean to deceive the old man ; and, moreover, it 
 amounted to striking my colours. I had broken orders 
 deliberately and because I denied his right to give 
 such orders. I might be a youngster ; but, to say the 
 least of it, I had as much interest in the success of 
 this expedition as any member of the company. The 
 shortest way to dissuade Captain Branscome from 
 treating me as a child was to assert myself from the 
 beginning. I had started with full intent to assert 
 myself, and — yes, I was much obliged to Mr. Eogers, 
 but this question between me and Branscome had best 
 be settled, though it meant open mutiny. I felt 
 pretty sure that Miss Belcher would support the 
 tyrant ; almost equally sure that Plinny would 
 acquiesce, though her sympathy went with me ; and 
 strangely enough, and unjustly, I felt the angrier with 
 Plinny. But even against Miss Belcher I had a card 
 to play. " Captain Branscome may be an excellent 
 leader," I would say ; " but I beg you to remember 
 that you gave me no vote in electing him. I will 
 obey any leader I have my share in choosing, but 
 until then I stand out." And I had an inkling that, 
 though the public voice would be against me, I should
 
 I TAKE FEENCH LEAVE ASHOKE 245 
 
 establish my claim to be taken into any future 
 counsels. 
 
 " In for a lamb, in for a sheep," thought I, and 
 began to back the cockboat towards the corner where 
 the dinghy lay. As I did so it occurred to me to 
 wonder why the Captain and Mr. Eogers had been so 
 dilatory. They must have started a full hour ahead 
 of me ; they had left the schooner at a brisk stroke, 
 whereas I had merely floated up with the tide. Yet 
 either I had all but surprised them in the act of step- 
 ping ashore, or, if they had landed at once, why had 
 Mr. Eogers loitered on the bank until I was close on 
 overtaking him ? 
 
 They had landed at the extreme head of the creek. 
 Therefore (I argued) their intent was to follow up the 
 stream here indicated on the chart and search for the 
 clump of trees which guarded the secret of No. 3 
 cache. 
 
 Sure enough, having beached my boat alongside 
 the dinghy and climbed the green knoll above the 
 foreshore, I spied their footprints on the sandy edge 
 of the stream which here fetched a loop before joining 
 the tidal waters of the creek. They led me along a 
 flat meadow of exquisitely green turf, fringed with 
 palmetto-trees, to the entrance of a narrow gorge 
 through which the stream came tumbling in a series 
 of cascades, spraying the ferns that overhung it. The 
 forest with its undergrowth pressed so closely upon 
 either bank that after scrambling up beside the first 
 waterfall I was forced to take off shoes and stockings 
 and work my way up the irregular bed, now wading
 
 246 POISON ISLAND 
 
 knee-deep, now clambering or leaping from boulder to 
 boulder ; and, even so, to press from time to time 
 through the meeting boughs, shielding my face from 
 scratches. So, for at least a mile, I climbed as through 
 a narrow green tunnel, and at the end of it found 
 myself wet to the skin. Five waterfalls I had passed, 
 and, beside the fourth, where the bank was muddy, 
 had noted a long, smooth mark, and recent, such as a 
 man's foot might make in slipping ; so that I felt pretty 
 confident of being on my companions' track, though I 
 wondered how the Captain, with his lame leg, could 
 sustain such a climb. 
 
 But above the fifth waterfall the stream divided 
 into two branches, and at the fork of them I stood for 
 a while in doubt which to choose. So far as volume 
 of water went, there was, indeed, little or nothing to 
 choose. If direction counted, the main stream would 
 be that which came rushing down the gorge straight 
 ahead of me — a gorge which, however, as my eye 
 followed the V of its tree- tops up to the sky-line, 
 promised to grow steeper and worse tangled. On the 
 other hand, the tributary (as I shall call it), which 
 poured down from a lateral valley on my left, ran 
 with an easier flow, as though drawing its waters from 
 less savage slopes. I could not see these slopes — a 
 bend of the hills hid them ; but I reasoned that if a 
 clump of trees, separate and distinguishable, stood any- 
 where near the banks of either stream, it might pos- 
 sibly be found by this one. The other showed nothing 
 but a close mass of vegetation. 
 
 Accordingly I turned my steps up the channel to
 
 I TAKE FRENCH LEAVE ASHORE 247 
 
 the left, and was rewarded, after another twenty minutes' 
 scramble, by emerging upon a break in the forest. On 
 one side of the stream rose a reddish-coloured cliff, 
 almost smooth of face and about seventy or eighty 
 feet high, across the edge of which the last trees on 
 the summit clutched with their naked roots, as though 
 protesting against being thrust over the precipice by 
 the crowd behind them. The other bank swelled up, 
 from a little above the water's edge, to a fair green 
 lawn, rounded, grassy, and smooth as a glade in an 
 English park. At its widest I dare say that, from the 
 stream's edge back to the steep slope where the forest 
 started again and climbed to a tall ridge that shut in 
 the glen on the south side, it measured something over 
 two hundred yards. 
 
 " Here," thought I, glancing up the glade towards 
 the westering sun, "is the very spot for our clump of 
 trees ; " and so it was — only no clump of trees happened 
 to be in sight. The glade, however, stretched away 
 and around a bend of the stream, and I was moving to 
 the bank to explore it to its end when my eyes were 
 arrested by something white not ten paces away. It 
 was a piece of paper caught against one of the large 
 boulders between which, as through a broken dam, the 
 water poured into the ravine. I waded towards it and 
 stooped, steadying myself against the current. 
 
 It was a paper boat.
 
 CHAPTER XXYI 
 
 THE WOITEN IN THE GRAVEYARD 
 
 I TURNED it over in my hand. Yes ; it was a boat 
 such as children make out of paper, many times folded, 
 and, " What on earth," thought I, " put such childish- 
 ness into the head of Captain Branscome or Mr. Jack 
 Eogers ? " 
 
 Then it occurred to me that they might be caught 
 in some peril higher up the stream, and had launched 
 this message on the chance of its being carried down 
 to the waters of the creek. A far-fetched explanation, 
 to be sure ! But what was I to think ? If it were the 
 explanation, doubtless the paper contained writing, 
 and, carrying it to the bank, I seated myself and 
 began to unfold it very carefully ; for it was sodden, 
 and threatened to fall to pieces in my hands. Then I 
 reflected that the two men carried no writing materials, 
 or, at the best, a lead pencil, the marks of which would 
 be obliterated before the paper had been two minutes 
 in the water. 
 
 Yet, as I parted the folds, I saw that the paper 
 had indeed been scribbled on, though the words 
 were a smear ; and, moreover, that the writing was 
 in ink ! 
 
 248
 
 THE WOMEN IN THE GRAVEYARD 249 
 
 In ink ! My fingers trembled and involuntarily 
 tore a small rent in the pulpy mass. I laid it on the 
 grass to dry in the full sunshine, seated myself beside 
 it, and looked around me with a shiver. 
 
 A paper boat — the paper written on — and the 
 writing in ink ! I could be sworn that neither Captain 
 Branscome nor Mr. Kogers carried an inkbottle. The 
 paper, too, was of a kind unfamiliar to me; thin, 
 foreign paper, ruled with faint lines in watermark. 
 Certainly no one on board the Espriella owned such 
 writing-paper or the like of it. But again, the paper 
 could not have been long in the water, and the writing 
 seemed to be fresh. As the torn edges crinkled in 
 the heat and curled themselves half-open, I peered 
 between them and distinguished a capital "R," fol- 
 lowed by an " i " ; but these letters ran into a long 
 smear, impossible to decipher. 
 
 I had flung myself prone on the grass, and so lay, 
 with chin propped on both palms, staring at the thing 
 as if it had been some strange beetle — staring till my 
 eyes ached. But now I took it in my fingers again 
 and prised the edges a little wider. Below the smear 
 came a blank space, and below this were five lines 
 ruled in ink with a number of dotted marks between 
 them. ... A smudged stave of music ? Yes, certainly 
 it was music. I could distinguish the mark of the 
 treble clef. Lastly, at the foot of the page, as I 
 unwrapped it at length, came a blurred illegible 
 signature. 
 
 But what mattered the sense of it ? The writing 
 was here, and recent, No one on board the Espriella
 
 250 POISOX ISLAND 
 
 could have penned it. The island, then, was inhabited 
 —now, at this moment inhabited, and the inhabitants, 
 whoever they might be, at this moment not far 
 from me. 
 
 I crushed the paper into my pocket, and stood up, 
 slowly looking about me. For a second or two panic 
 had me by the hair. I turned to run, but the dense 
 woods through which I had ascended so light-heartedly 
 had suddenly become a jungle of God knows what 
 terrors. I remembered that from the first cascade 
 upward I had scarcely once had a view of more than 
 a dozen yards ahead, so thickly the bushes closed in 
 upon me. I saw myself retracing my steps through 
 those bushes, in every one of which now lurked a pair 
 of Avatching eyes. I glanced up at the cliff across the 
 stream. For aught I knew, eyes were watching me 
 from its summit. 
 
 Needless to say, I cursed the hour of my trans- 
 gression, the fatal impulse that had prompted me to 
 break ship. I knew myself for a fool ; but how might 
 I win back to repentance? As repent I certainly 
 would and acknowledge my fault. Could I keep hold 
 on my nerve to thread my way back and over those 
 five separate and accursed waterfalls ? If only I were 
 given a clear space to run ! 
 
 At this point in the nexus of my fears it occurred 
 to me, glancing along the green lawn ahead, that the 
 ridge on its left must run almost jjarallel with the 
 creek ; that it was sparsely wooded in comparison with 
 the ravine behind me, and that from the summit of it 
 I might even look straight down upon the Espriella's
 
 THE WOMEN IN THE GRAVEYARD 251 
 
 ancliorage. Be this as it might, I felt sure, (jonsider- 
 iiig the lie of the land, that here must be a short cut 
 back to the creek ; and once beside its waters I could 
 head back along the beach and regain my boat. Down 
 there I might dismiss my fears. The upper portion 
 of the beach, if I mistook not, remained uncovered at 
 the top of any ordinary tides, and it wanted yet a 
 good two hours to high- water ; so that I had not the 
 smallest doubt of being able to reach the creek-head, 
 no matter at what point of the foreshore I might 
 descend. From the bank where I stood I had the 
 whole ridge in view above the dense foliage, and could 
 select the most promising point to make for ; but this 
 would sink out of sight as I approached the first belt 
 of trees, and beyond them I must find my way by 
 guesswork. 
 
 I now observed a sharp notch breaking the line of 
 the ridge, about a mile to the westward, and walked 
 some few hundred yards forward on the chance that it 
 might widen as I drew more nearly abreast of it, and 
 open into a passage between the hills. Widen it did, 
 but very gradually — the stream curving away from it 
 all the while ; and by and by I halted again, in two 
 minds whether to break straight across for it or 
 continue this slow process of making sure. 
 
 I had now reached a point where the tall cliff on 
 the opposite shore either ended abruptly or took a 
 sharp turn back from the stream. I could not deter- 
 mine which, and walked forward yet another two 
 hundred yards to satisfy myself. This brought me in 
 view of a grove of palmettos, clustering under the
 
 252 POISON ISLAND 
 
 very lee of the rock — or so it appeared at first, but a 
 second look told me that here the stream again divided, 
 and that the new confluent swept by the base of the 
 rock, between it and the palmettos, three or four of 
 which (their roots, maybe, sapped by bygone floods) 
 leaned sideways and almost hid the junction. 
 
 I was turning away, resolved now to steer straight 
 for the notch in the hills, when for the second time a 
 gleam of something white arrested me, and I stood 
 still, my heart in my mouth. The white object, what- 
 ever it was, stood within the circle of the palmetto 
 stems, yet not very deep within it— a dozen yards at 
 farthest from the stream's edge. I stared at it, and 
 the longer I stared the more I was puzzled, until I 
 plunged into the water and waded across for a closer 
 look. 
 
 Gaining the bank, I saw, first, that the white 
 object was but one of many, disposed behind it in two 
 rows as regular as the tree-stems allowed ; next, that 
 these objects were wooden boards, painted white. And 
 with that, as I stepped towards the foremost, my foot 
 slipped and I fell, twisting my ankle and narrowly 
 saving myself from an ugly sprain. I had stumbled 
 in a hollow, shallow depression between the mounds. 
 Picking myself up, I saw that to left and right and 
 all around me the turf was ridged with similar mounds, 
 the whole enclosure full of them. In a flash I read 
 the meaning of the white-painted boards. Yes — and 
 there was writing on them, too — no words, but single 
 letters and dates, roughly painted in black — " O. M., 
 1796"-" E. A. S., 1796 "-" P. d. V. and A. M. d. V.,
 
 THE WOMEN IN THE GRAVEYARD 253 
 
 1800 " — these, and perhaps two score of others. The 
 shape of the mounds interpreted these inscriptions. 
 
 I was in a graveyard. 
 
 I sat helpless for a minute, dreadfully scanning 
 the gloom through which the massed palmetto-tops 
 admitted but a shaft of light here and there. The 
 flies, which had been a nuisance across the stream, 
 here swarmed in myriads so thick that they seemed 
 to hang in clusters from the boughs; and their in- 
 cessant buzzing added to the horror of the place a 
 hint of something foul, sinister, almost obscene. 
 
 I had a mind to creep away on all-fours, but 
 suddenly forgot my ankle and sprang erect, on the 
 defensive, at the sound of voices. A grassy path led 
 through the enclosure, between the graves, and at the 
 end of it appeared two figures. 
 
 They were two women : the first a negress, short, 
 squat, and ugly, wearing a frock of the gaudiest yellow, 
 and for headdress a scarlet handkerchief, bound closely 
 about her scalp and tied in front with an immense 
 bow ; the other — but how shall I describe the 
 other ? 
 
 She was white, and she wore a dress of fresh white 
 muslin ; a short dress, tied about the waist with a 
 pale-blue sash, and above the shoulders with narrow 
 ribbons of the same colour. Her figure was that of a 
 girl ; her ringlets hung loose like a girl's. She walked 
 with a girlish step ; and until she came close I took 
 her for a girl of sixteen or seventeen. 
 
 Then, with a shock, I found myself staring into 
 the face, which might well belong to a woman between
 
 254 POISON ISLAND 
 
 sixty and seventy, so faded it was and reticulated 
 with wrinkles; and into a pair of eyes tliat wavered 
 between ingenuousness and a childisli cunning ; and 
 from them down to her slim ankles and a pair of 
 dancing-shoes, so fairy-like and diminutive that they 
 seemed scarcely to press the grass underfoot. 
 
 The pair had drawn to a halt, while I stood un- 
 certain whether to brave them or make a bid for 
 escape. I heard the negress cry aloud in a foreign 
 tongue, at the same time flinging up her hands ; but 
 the other pushed past her and walked straight down 
 upon me, albeit with a mincing, tripping motion, as 
 if she was pacing a dance. 
 
 Twice she spoke, and in two different languages 
 (as I recognized, though able to make nothing of 
 either), and then, halting before me, she tried for the 
 third time in English. 
 
 " Boy " — she looked at me inquiringly — " what 
 you do here— Tvill you tell? " 
 
 " I come from the ship, ma'am," said I, finding my 
 tongue. 
 
 " The sheep ? He bring a sheep ? But why ? — 
 and why he bring you ? " 
 
 I stared at her, not understanding. " Ma'am," 
 said I, pointing over my shoulder, " we came here in 
 a ship— a schooner ; and she is lying in the creek 
 yonder. I landed and climbed up through the woods. 
 On my way I found this." 
 
 I held out the paper boat. She caught it out of 
 my hand with a sharp cry. But the black woman, at 
 the same instant, turned on her and began to scold
 
 THE WOMEN IN THE GRAVEYAKD 255 
 
 her volubly. The words were unintelligible to me, 
 but her tone, full of angry remonstrance, could not be 
 mistaken. 
 
 " I am not sorry," said the white woman, speaking 
 in English, with a glance at me. " No, I do not care 
 for his orders. It was by this that you came to me ? " 
 she asked, turning to me again, and pointing mincingly 
 at the paper. 
 
 " I found it in the stream," I replied ; " almost a 
 mile below this." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; you found it in the stream. And you 
 opened it, and read the writing ? " 
 
 I shook my head. " The writing, ma'am, was 
 blotted — I could read nothing." 
 
 " Not even my little song ? " She peered into the 
 paper, threw up her head and piped a note or two, for 
 all the world as a bird chirrups, lifting his bill, after 
 taking a drink. "La-la-la — you did not understand, 
 hey ? But, nevertheless, you came, and of your own 
 will. He did not bring you ? " 
 
 I shook my head again, having no clue to her 
 meaning. 
 
 " So best," she said, changing her tone of a sudden 
 to one of extreme gravity. " For if he found you here 
 — here of all places — he would kill you. Yes " — she 
 nodded impressively — "for sure he would kill you. 
 He kill all these." 
 
 She waved a hand, indicating the grave-mounds. 
 Her voice, at these dreadful words, ran up to an 
 almost more dreadful airiness ; and still she continued 
 nodding, but now with a sort of simpering pride.
 
 256 POISON ISLAND 
 
 "All these," she repeated, waving her hand again 
 towards the mounds. 
 
 " Did you see him kill them ? " I asked, wondering 
 whom " he " might be, and scarcely knowing what 
 I said. 
 
 "Some," she answered, with a final nod and a 
 glance of extreme childish cunning. "But why you 
 not talking, Rosa?" she demanded, turning on the 
 negress. " You speak English ; it is no use to 
 pretend." 
 
 The black woman stared at me for a moment 
 from under her loose-hanging lids. 
 
 "You go 'way," she said slowly. "You get no 
 good in these parts." 
 
 "Very well, ma'am," said I, steadying my voice, 
 "and the sooner the better, if you will kindly tell 
 me the shortest cut back to the creek." 
 
 "^TicZ," the woman went on, not seeming to heed 
 the interruption, "you tell the same to your friends, 
 that they get no good in these parts. But of us — 
 and of this " — she pointed to the sodden paper which 
 she had snatched from her mistress's hands — "you 
 will say nothing. It might bring mischief." 
 
 "Mischief?" I echoed. 
 
 " Mischief — upon her." 
 
 " But this is nonsense you talk, Eosa ! " broke 
 in the little lady. "At the most, what have 
 I written? — a little song from Gliick, the divine 
 Gliick ! Just a little song of Eurydice calling to 
 Orfeo. Ah ! you should have heard me sing it — 
 in the days before my voice left me; in the opera,
 
 THE WOMEN IN THE GRAVEYARD 257 
 
 boy, and the King himself splitting his gloves to 
 applaud us ! Eh, but you are young, very young. 
 I should not wonder to hear you were born after I 
 left the stage. And you are pretty, but not old 
 enough to be Orfeo yet. I must wait — I must wait, 
 though I wait till I doubt if I am not changed to 
 Proserpine with her cracked voice. Boy, if I kissed 
 you " 
 
 She advanced a step, but the negress caught her 
 by the wrist violently, at the same moment waving 
 me off. I felt faint and giddy, as though some 
 exhalation from the graveyard — not wholly repellent, 
 but sickly, overpowering, like the scent of a hothouse 
 lily — had been suddenly wafted under my nostrils. 
 I fell back a pace as the negress motioned me away. 
 Her hand pointed across the stream, and across the 
 meadow, to the gap in the ridge. 
 
 " Fast as you can run," she panted ; " and never 
 come this way again." 
 
 The strong scent yet hung around me and seemed 
 to bind me like a spell, pressing on my arms and 
 legs. I plunged knee-deep into the stream. The 
 cool touch of the water brought me to my senses. 
 I splashed across, waded up the bank, and set off 
 running towards the gap.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THE MAN IN BLACK 
 
 Before ever I gained the gap I was panting, and 
 as I panted the blood ran into my mouth from a deep 
 scratch across the eyebrows. I tasted it as I ran. 
 My shirt hung in strips, and one stocking flapped 
 open on a rip from knee to ankle. But on the 
 farther side of the ridge I ran no longer. I flung 
 myself and fell through the matted ferns that, veiling 
 the trough of a half-dry watercourse, now checked 
 my descent as I clutched at them, now parted and 
 let me drop and bruise myself on the rocky bottom. 
 In the end, I found myself on soft sand beside the 
 blessed water of the creek, bloodied indeed — for I 
 had taken a shrewd knock on the bridge of the nose 
 — but with a wrenched shoulder and a jarred knee- 
 pan for the worst of my hurts. I valued them 
 nothing in comparison with the terrors left behind 
 in the woods. The schooner lay in sight, scarcely 
 half a mile below, and I sobbed with gratitude as I 
 dipped my face in the tide and washed off its blood- 
 stains. 
 
 The tide was still at flood, and wanted (as I 
 258
 
 THE MAN m BLACK 259 
 
 guessed) less than an hour of high water ; but it left 
 an almost continuous stretch of sand between me 
 and the creek-head, and I found that the short 
 intervals where it narrowed to nothing could be 
 waded with ease. At first the curve of the fore- 
 shore and the overhanging woods concealed the spit of 
 beach where I had made fast my punt beside the 
 dinghy ; but at the corner which brought the boats 
 in sight I was aware of two figures standing beside 
 them — Captain Branscome and Mr. Rogers. 
 
 I walked forward hardily enough ; I had drunk 
 my fill of terror, and could have faced the Captain 
 had he been thrice as formidable. He did not help 
 me at all, but stood with a thunderous frown, very 
 quiet and self-restrained, while I plodded my way 
 up to him, over the sand. 
 
 I think that, as I drew close, my battered appear- 
 ance must have shocked him a little. But his frown 
 did not relax, and the muscles of his mouth grew, 
 if anything, tenser. 
 
 " You appear to have been in the wars," he 
 said quietly. "Has anything happened to the 
 schooner ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; at least not to my knowledge," was my 
 answer; and he must have expected it, or he would 
 have shown more perturbation. " I saw her, not five 
 minutes ago, lying at her moorings," I added, with 
 a nod towards the bend of the creek which hid her 
 from us. 
 
 " Then why has Miss Belcher sent you ? " 
 
 "She did not send me, sir."
 
 260 POISON ISLAND 
 
 "In other words, you have chosen to disobey 
 orders ? " 
 
 I suppose he read some sullenness in my attitude, 
 for he repeated the words sharply, in a tone that 
 demanded an answer. 
 
 " I am sorry, sir ; but all the same, it didn't 
 seem fair to me to be left on board without being 
 consulted." 
 
 I heard him take a short breath, as though my 
 impudence hit him in the wind. For a full half a 
 minute he eyed me slowly up and down. 
 
 " Get into your boat, sir, and return to the ship at 
 once ! Mr. Eogers, this child is impossible. I must 
 do what I would gladly have avoided, and ask the 
 ladies to give me more authority over him, since they 
 will not exercise it themselves." 
 
 At the implied sneer — and perhaps even more at the 
 tone of it, so foreign to the Captain Branscome that I 
 knew — I blazed up wrathfully. 
 
 " If you mean by that," said I, " to threaten me 
 with the rope's-end, I advise you to try it. And if 
 you mean that I'm child enough to be tied to the 
 apron-strings of a couple of women, that's just of a 
 piece with the whole mistake you're making. No 
 one's disputing your right to give orders " 
 
 " Thank you," he put in sarcastically. 
 
 " — to those," I went on, " who appointed you 
 captain. But I wasn't consulted, and until that 
 hapj)ens, I shall obey or not, as I choose." 
 
 Now, this, no doubt, was extremely childish, even 
 wickedly foolish, and the more foolish, perhaps.
 
 THE MAN IN BLACK 261 
 
 because a few minutes ago I would have given all I 
 possessed, including my prospective share in the 
 treasure, for Captain Branscome's protection. But 
 somehow, since sighting the island, I had lost hold of 
 myself, and my temper seemed to be running all 
 askew. Strange to tell, the Captain appeared to be 
 affected in much the same way. 
 
 " Why, you little fool," said he, " are you mis- 
 taking this for a picnic ? " 
 
 " No," I retorted ; "I am not. And, if you'll 
 remember, it wasn't I who led the ladies to look 
 forward to one." 
 
 He planted himself before me, and said he, looking 
 at me sternly — 
 
 "See here, my boy, I don't want to make unpleasant- 
 ness, and if you force me to appeal to the whole ship's 
 company, you know very well you will find yourself in 
 a minority of one." 
 
 " I don't care for that, sir. You'll be acting 
 unfairly, all the same." 
 
 " We'll let that pass. You tell me, here in the 
 act of breaking ship, that you're of an age to be 
 consulted. Well, you shall have the benefit of the 
 doubt. You want to know, then, why I'm careful 
 about letting you run ashore ? What would you say 
 if I told you the island has people upon it ? " 
 
 " Why, first of all, sir, that if you found it out 
 before dropping anchor, it seems strange — your going 
 ashore with Mr. Eogers and leaving the rest to take 
 care of themselves. But if you've discovered it 
 since "
 
 262 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " I have not. I am not sure the island is 
 inhabited ; but as we were running down the coast I 
 saw something through my glasses — a coil of smoke 
 beyond the hills on the eastern side. Now, if, as seems 
 certain, this fire was lit by human beings, it almost 
 stands to reason they must have sighted our ship. 
 Next comes the question : Why did I go ashore and 
 take Mr. Eogers ? Well, in the first place, we didn't 
 come here to lie at anchor and sail away again ; and 
 if the island happened to be inhabited, and by people 
 who don't want us, why, then, the sooner we nipped 
 ashore and prospected, the better. For the spot 
 where I sighted the smoke must lie a good five miles 
 from here as the crow flies, and by the shape of the 
 hills and the amount of scrub between 'em, those five 
 miles must be equal to fifteen. But why (say you) 
 did I take Mr. Kogers ? I took Mr. Kogers, after 
 
 consulting with Miss Belcher " 
 
 " Does she know there are people on the island ? " 
 " She does. I took Mr. Eogers because, if 
 danger there be, it seemed likelier we should find it 
 ashore than on board the schooner ; and because, as 
 the shortest way to make sure if these strangers were 
 after our treasure, we had agreed to make straight for 
 the clump of trees described on the back of the chart 
 and examine whether the ground thereabouts had 
 been visited lately or disturbed ; and, further, because 
 our search might require more strength and agility 
 than I alone, with my lame leg, could command. I 
 felt pretty easy about the schooner. She can only be 
 attacked by boat, and I searched the coast pretty
 
 THE MAN IN BLACK 263 
 
 narrowly on our way down without sighting one. If 
 these men possess a boat, she probably lies somewhere 
 on the eastern side, not far from their camp fire. If 
 she lies nearer, it must be somewhere under the cliffs 
 to the south, in which case her owners would have a 
 long journey to reach her, and that journey must take 
 them around the head of the creek here. But ( say 
 you) there may be two parties on the island — one by 
 the camp fire northward, and another under the south 
 shore. I'll grant this, though I think it unlikely ; 
 but, even so, to attack the schooner they must bring 
 their boat up the whole length of the entrance, where 
 our people would have her in view for at least two 
 miles. This would give ample time for a signal to 
 recall us, and on the chance of it I left Goodfellow in 
 charge of two rockets with instructions to touch them 
 off at a hint of danger." 
 
 " Oh, oh ! " said I. " So Mr. Goodfellow, too, knew 
 of this ? And Plinny, I suppose ? And, in fact, you 
 told every one but me ? " 
 
 " No, sir," said Captain Branscome, gravely ; " I 
 did not trouble Miss Plinlimmon with these perhaps 
 unnecessary fears. To a lady of her sensitive 
 nature " 
 
 " Oh, well, sir," I interrupted and, turning aside 
 pettishly, began to haul my cockboat down to the 
 water, " since you chose to treat me like a baby of 
 six, I suppose it's no wonder you take Plinny for a 
 timorous old fool." 
 
 " Sir ! " exploded Captain Branscome, and glancing 
 back over my shoulder I saw him leaning on his stick
 
 264 POISON ISLAND 
 
 and fairly trembling with, wrath. " This disrespectful 
 language ! And of a lady for whom — for whom " 
 
 " Disrespect ? " — I whistled. " Is it worse to speak 
 disrespect or to act it ? I have known Plinny for 
 years — you for a month or two ; and one of these 
 days, if this expedition gets into a mess — as it likely 
 will with such handling — that sensitive lady will 
 make you see stars." 
 
 I knew, while I uttered it, that my speech was 
 abominably ill-conditioned ; that Captain Branscome 
 had, in fact, been holding out the olive-branch, and 
 that in common decency I ought to have caught at it. 
 In short, I felt my boyish temper going from bad to 
 worse, and yet, somehow, that I could not apply the 
 brake to it. 
 
 " Why, confound the boy ! " ejaculated Mr. 
 Kogers. " What ever bee has stung him ? " And 
 gripping me by the shoulder as I heaved at the boat, 
 he swung me round to face him. " Look here, young 
 Harry Brooks ! Do you happen to be sickening for 
 something, that you talk like a gutter-snipe to a 
 gentleman old enough to be your grandfather ? Or, 
 damme, have you and Goodfellow been coming to 
 blows ? By the nose of you and the state of your 
 shirt a man would say you've come from a street fight ; 
 and by your talk, that your head was knocked silly." 
 
 " It's all very well, Mr. Eogers," said I, sulkily, 
 " and I know I oughtn't to have spoken like that, but 
 I hate to be tyrannized over. That's why I didn't take 
 your warning first along and pull back to the ship — 
 though I thank you for it all the same."
 
 THE MAN IN BLACK 265 
 
 " Eh ? " said Mr. Eogers. " My warning ? What 
 in thunder is the boy talking about ? " 
 
 " When you saw me sculling for shore, here, about 
 an hour ago," I explained, " you pretended not to see 
 me, and went after Captain Branscome; but I saw 
 you, fast enough, standing on the bank yonder, under 
 the trees." 
 
 " For a certainty the child is mad ! " Mr. Eogers 
 stared at me round-eyed. " / saw you ? / pretended 
 not to ? Why, man alive, from the time we left the 
 ship I never set eyes on you (how should I ?), nor ever 
 guessed you were ashore till we came back and found 
 your boat beside the dinghy. And as for standing 
 under those trees, I was never on the bank there for 
 one second — no, nor for the half of one. The Captain 
 and I walked around the spit together — the tide has 
 covered our footmarks or I could show 'em to you." 
 
 " At any rate there was a man," I persisted. " And 
 he couldn't have been the Captain either, for he was 
 wearing dark clothes " 
 
 " The devil ! I say, Branscome, listen to this " 
 
 " I am listening," answered the Captain, gravely, 
 taking, as he stepped forward, a long look at the bank 
 above us and at the dense forest to right and left. 
 " Did you see the man's face, Harry ? " 
 
 " No, sir, or I should not have mistaken him for 
 Mr. Eogers. He was standing there, under the boughs, 
 and seemed to be looking through them and watching 
 me. I was sculling the boat along with a paddle 
 slipped in the stern notch, and he let me come pretty 
 close — I couldn't have been two hundred yards away —
 
 266 rOISON ISLAND - 
 
 when he slipped to the back of the trees, and I lost 
 him." 
 
 " You didn't see him again ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; I didn't land just at once. I had a mind 
 at first to put about and row to the schooner, thinking 
 that Mr. Rogers had meant it for a hint. When I 
 brought the boat ashore, five minutes later, he was 
 gone." 
 
 " Which way did you take, then ? " 
 
 " I went straight after you, sir, up the waterfalls ; 
 but couldn't find any trace of you except at one spot 
 just beside a waterfall— the fourth, it was — where some 
 one had slipped a foot " 
 
 " Mr. Rogers," the Captain interrupted, " we had 
 best get back to the JEspriella with all speed. I may 
 tell you, Harry, that we never went up by the water- 
 falls at all. It was a climb, and my half-pay leg 
 didn't like the look of it. But, jump into your boat, 
 boy, and pull ahead of us. You and I must do a little 
 serious talking later on." 
 
 We pulled back briskly for the Espriella and 
 reached her just as she began to swing with the turn of 
 the tide. As we drew close — the cockboat leading — I 
 glanced over my shoulder and spied Plinny leaning 
 against the bulwarks by the starboard quarter, in the 
 attitude of one gently enjoying the sunset scene ; 
 but at the sight of my torn shirt all her composure 
 left her, and she came running to the accommodation 
 ladder, where she met me with a string of agitated 
 questions. 
 
 " Excuse me, ma'am," said Captain Branscome, as
 
 THE MAN IN BLACK 267 
 
 the dinghy fell alongside and he climbed on deck. 
 " I have no wish to alarm you, and, indeed, there may 
 be no cause at all for alarm. But Harry has brought 
 us somewhat serious news. He reports that there is 
 a man — a stranger — on the island." 
 
 " How could Harry have known ? " was Plinny's 
 unexpected response. 
 
 " He is confident that he saw a man, somewhat 
 more than an hour since, standing at the head of the 
 creek." 
 
 " Now, that is very curious," said Plinny ; " for the 
 gentleman told me he had borrowed Harry's boat 
 without being observed." 
 
 " I — I beg your pardon, ma'am ! " Captain Brans- 
 come stared about him. " A gentleman, did you 
 
 " Yes, and such distinguished manners ! He left 
 a message for you — and, dear me, you should have 
 heard how he praised my coffee ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXYIII 
 
 THE MASTER OF THE ISLAND 
 
 But here, as Captain Branscome leaned back and 
 caught feebly at the main rigging for support, 
 there appeared above the after companion (like a 
 cognisance above an escutcheon) a bent fore-arm, the 
 hand grasping a beaver hat. It was presently- 
 followed by the head of Miss Belcher, who nodded 
 cheerfully, blinking a little in the level light of the 
 sunset. 
 
 " Hallo ! " said she, addressing Plinny, while she 
 adjusted the hat upon her brow. "Have you been 
 telling the Captain about our visitor ? " 
 
 " Miss Plinlimmon, ma'am, has given me a shock, 
 and I won't deny it," answered the Captain, recovering 
 himself. 
 
 Miss Belcher continued to nod like a china 
 mandarin. 
 
 " I don't wonder," she agreed. " For my part, 
 you might have knocked me down with a feather. 
 The fellow came down the creek, cool as you 
 please, and pulling a nice easy stroke, in Harry's 
 cockboat. Where is Harry, by the way ? " — her eyes 
 
 268
 
 THE MASTER OF THE ISLAND 269 
 
 lit and fastened upon me — " Good Lord ! what have 
 you been doing to the child ? " 
 
 "Nothing, ma'am. He has been exploring, and 
 lost his way ; that's all." 
 
 "H'm! he seems to have lost it pretty badly. 
 Well, he deserved it. But, as I was saying, along 
 comes my gentleman, pulling with just the easy jerk 
 which is the way to make a boat of that sort travel. 
 Groodfellow was keeping watch. They say that a 
 sailor will recognize a boat half a mile further off 
 than he'll recognize the man in it, but Goodfellow 
 isn't a sailor, so that explanation won't fit. We'll say 
 that he was prepared for the boat returning, but not 
 to find an entire stranger pulling her. At all events, 
 he let her come within a couple of gunshots before 
 calling down to the cabin and giving the alarm. I 
 had my legs up on a locker, and was taking a siesta 
 over a book — * Parkinson On The Bog ' — and, by the 
 way, we were a set of fools not to bring a dog ; but 
 I ran up the companion in a jiffy, and had the sense 
 to catch up your spyglass as I went. Goodfellow by 
 this time had begun to dance about the deck in a 
 flutter. He had the tinder-box in his hand, and 
 wanted to know if he should touch off a rocket. I 
 ordered him to drop it, and fetch me a musket, which 
 he did. By this time I could see that the man in the 
 boat was unarmed, so I put up the musket at the 
 * present,' got the sight on him, and called out to 
 know his business. 
 
 " The man jerked the cockboat round with her 
 stern to the schooner — these boats come right-about
 
 270 rOISOX ISLAND 
 
 with a single twist — and says he, very politely lifting 
 his hat, ' You'll pardon me, ma'am, but (as you see) 
 I have borrowed your young friend's boat. My own 
 was not handy, and this seemed the quickest way 
 to pay my respects.' * Indeed ? ' said I, * and who 
 may you be ? ' * My name, ma'am,' said he, ' is 
 Beauregard — Dr. Beauregard.' *I never heard of 
 you,' said I. ' That, ma'am, is entirely my misfortune,' 
 said he, lifting his hat again ; * but allow me to say 
 that I am the proprietor of this island, and very much 
 at your service.' 
 
 " Well, this was a facer. It never occurred to any 
 of us — eh ? — that this island might have an owner. 
 To tell the truth, I'm a stickler for the rights of 
 property, at home ; but somehow the notion of an 
 island like this belonging to any one had never 
 entered my head. Yet the thing is reasonable enough 
 when you come to think it over ; and, of course, I saw 
 that it put an entirely diiferent complexion upon our 
 business here." 
 
 " My dear Lydia," put in Mr. Eogers, impatiently, 
 " the man's claim must be absurd. Why, the island 
 is right in the tropics ! " 
 
 " You wouldn't have thought it a bit absurd if you 
 had heard him," retorted Miss Belcher. " He appeared 
 to be quite sure of his ground. Very pleasant about 
 it, too, he was ; said that few visitors ever honoured 
 his out-of-the-way home, but that as soon as any 
 arrived he always made it a matter of — of punctilio 
 (yes, that was the word) to put off and bid them 
 welcome. He spoke with the slightest possible foreign
 
 THE MASTEE OP THE ISLAXD 271 
 
 accent, but used admirable English ; and, I don't 
 know why," wound up Miss Belcher, ingenuously, 
 ' but he seemed to divine from the first that I was 
 an Englishwoman." 
 
 " And it wasn't as if we had come here flaunting 
 British colours," added Plinny. 
 
 " But what sort of man was he ? " asked the 
 Captain. 
 
 " Height, six foot two or three in his stockings ; 
 age, about sixty; face, clean shaven and fleshy; the 
 features extraordinary powerful ; hair, jet black, and 
 dyed (if at all) by a process that would make his 
 fortune if he sold the secret ; clothes, black alpaca and 
 well cut, with silk stockings that would be cheap at 
 two guineas, and shoes with gold buckles on 'em. I 
 couldn't take my eyes off— no display about 'em — and 
 yet I doubt if King Louis of France ever wore the 
 like before they cut his head off. Complexion, pale 
 for this climate, with a sort of silvery shine about 
 it. Manner charming, voice charming, bearing fit for 
 a grand seigneur ; and that's what he is, or something 
 like it, unless, as I rather incline to suspect, he's the 
 biggest scoundrel unhung." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Belcher ! " protested Plinny. " \Vhen 
 you agreed with me that he might have sat for a 
 portrait of a gentleman of the old school ! " 
 
 " Tut, my dear ! When I saw that you had lost 
 your heart to him as soon as he set foot on deck! 
 Did I say ' of the old school ' ? Yes, indeed, and of 
 the very oldest; and, in fact, quite possibly the Old 
 Gentleman himself."
 
 272 POISON ISLAND 
 
 Now, either I had spoiled Captain Branscome's 
 temper for the day, or something in this speech of 
 Miss Belcher's especially rasped it. 
 
 " But who is this man ? " he demanded, in a sharp, 
 authoritative voice. 
 
 Miss Belcher stepped back half a pace. I saw her 
 chin go up, and it seemed to grow square as she 
 answered him with a dangerous coldness. 
 
 " I beg your pardon. I thought I told you that he 
 gave his name as Dr. Beauregard." 
 
 " You had no business, ma'am, to allow him on 
 board the ship." 
 
 " No business ? " 
 
 " No business, ma'am. I have just been having 
 words with young Harry, here, over his disobedience 
 this afternoon ; but this is infinitely more serious. We 
 are here to search for treasure. We no sooner drop 
 anchor than a man visits us, who claims that the 
 island is his. This at once presupposes his claim 
 upon any treasure that may be hidden upon it, and 
 consequently that, as soon as he discovers our purpose, 
 he will be our enemy. It follows, I should imagine, 
 that of all steps the most fatal was to admit him on 
 board to discover our weakness." 
 
 " Our weakness, sir ? " asked Miss Belcher, care- 
 lessly, as though but half attending. 
 
 " Our weakness, ma'am ; as it was doubtless to 
 discover our weakness that he came." 
 
 " Now, I rather thought," murmured Miss Belcher, 
 *' that Miss Plinlimmon and I had spent a great part 
 of this afternoon in impressing him with our strength."
 
 THE MASTER OF THE ISLAND 273 
 
 " To be sure," pursued Captain Branscome, " with 
 such a company as he found on board, he can scarcely 
 have suspected a treasure hunt. Still, when he does 
 suspect it — as sooner or later he must — he will know 
 our weakness." 
 
 "He could scarcely have dealt with us more 
 frankly than he did, at any rate," said Miss Belcher, 
 with an air of simplicity ; " for he assured us he was 
 alone on the island." 
 
 " And you believed him, ma'am ? " 
 
 " I forget, sir, if I believed him ; but he certainly 
 knows that we are here in search of treasure, for 
 I told him so myself." 
 
 Captain Branscome gasped. " You — you told him 
 so ? " he echoed. 
 
 " I did, and he replied that it scarcely surprised 
 him to hear it, that of the few vessels which found 
 their way to Mortallone, quite an appreciable pro- 
 portion came with some idea of discovering treasure. 
 The proportion, he added, had fallen off of late 
 years, and the most of them nowadays put in to 
 water, but there was a time when the treasure- 
 seekers threatened to become a positive nuisance. 
 He said this with a smile which disarmed all sus- 
 picion. In fact, it was impossible to take offence 
 with the man." 
 
 But at this point Plinny, frightened perhaps by 
 the warnings of apoplexy in Captain Branscome's face, 
 laid a hand gently on Miss Belcher's arm. 
 
 " Are we treating our good friend quite fairly ? " 
 she asked.
 
 274 POISON ISLAND 
 
 Miss Belcher glanced at her and broke into a 
 ringing laugh. 
 
 " You dear creature ! No, to be sure, we are not ; 
 but from a child I always turned mischievous under 
 correction. Captain Branscome, I beg your pardon." 
 
 " It is granted, ma'am." 
 
 " And — for I take you to be on the point of 
 resigning, here and now " 
 
 " Ma'am, you have guessed correctly." 
 
 " I am going to beg you to do nothing of the sort. 
 No, I am not going to ask it only as a favour, but to 
 appeal to your reason. You think it extremely rash 
 of me to have entertained this man and talked with 
 him so frankly ? Well, but consider. To begin with, 
 if I had not told him that we were after the treasure, 
 he would probably have guessed it ; nay, I make bold 
 to say that he guessed it already, for — I forgot to 
 mention it — he knows Harry Brooks." 
 
 " Knows me, ma'am ? " I cried out, as all the 
 company turned and stared at me. 
 
 "He says so, and that he recognized you as you 
 were sculling up the creek." 
 
 " Knows 7ne ? " I echoed. " But who on earth 
 can he be, then ? Not — not the man Aaron Glass, 
 surely ? " 
 
 " I was wondering," said Miss Belcher. 
 
 " But — but Aaron Glass wasn't a bit like this man, 
 as you make him out ; a thin, foxy-looking fellow, 
 with sandy hair and a face full of wrinkles, about the 
 middling height, with sloping shoulders " 
 
 " Then he can't be Aaron Glass. But whoever he
 
 THE MASTER OF THE ISLAND 275 
 
 is, he knows you — that's the important point — and 
 pretty certainly connects you with the treasure. He 
 didn't seem to have met Goodfellow before. Well, 
 now, if he lives alone here — which, I admit, is not 
 likely — we ought to be more than a match for him. 
 If, on the other hand, he has men at his call — and 
 I ask your particular attention here, Captain — it was 
 surely no folly at all, but the plainest common sense, 
 to admit him on board. He Avill go off and report 
 that our ship's company consists of two middle-aged 
 maiden ladies (I occupied myself with tatting a chair- 
 cover while he conversed) ; a boy ; Mr. Goodfellow 
 (whatever he may have made of Goodfellow) ; and two 
 gentlemen ashore to whose mental and physical powers 
 I was careful to do some injustice. You will pardon 
 me. Captain, but I laid more than warrantable stress 
 on your lameness ; and as for you, Jack, I depicted 
 you as a mere country booby" — here Mr. Eogers 
 bowed amiably — " and added by way of confirmation 
 that I had known you from childhood. He will go 
 back and report all this, with the certain consequence 
 that he and his confederates will mistake us for a 
 crew of crack-brained eccentrics." 
 
 When she had done, the Captain stood considering 
 for a moment, rubbing his chin. 
 
 " Yes," he admitted slowly, " there seems reason 
 in that, ma'am ; reason and method. But 'tis a kind 
 of reason and method outside all my experience, and 
 you must excuse me if I get the grip of it slowly. I 
 should like a good look at the man before saying 
 more."
 
 276 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " As to that," answered Miss Belcher, " you won't 
 have long to wait for it. He has invited us all ashore 
 to-morrow, to a picnic. He charged me to say — if he 
 did not happen to run against you as he was returning 
 the cockboat — that he would be at the creek-head 
 punctually at nine-thirty to await us." 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 Two hours later Captain Branscome sent word for 
 me to attend him in his cabin. 
 
 " I want to tell you, Harry Brooks," said the old 
 man, turning away from me while he lit his pipe, 
 " that I have been thinking over what happened this 
 afternoon." 
 
 " I was in the wrong, sir." 
 
 " You were ; and I am glad to hear you acknow- 
 ledge it. Now, what I want to say is this. Had 
 affairs gone in the least as I expected, I should have 
 held you to * strict service,' as we used to say on 
 the old packets. I never tolerated a favourite on 
 board, and never shall. But these ladies don't make 
 a favourite of you ; that's not the trouble. The 
 trouble — no, I won't call it even that — is that you 
 and they all cannot help taking the bit between your 
 teeth. It don't appear to be your fault ; you wasn't 
 bred to the sea, and can't tumble to sea-fashions. 
 * So much the worse,' a man might say. The plague 
 of it is, I can't be sure ; and after casting it up 
 and down, I've determined to let you have your 
 way." 
 
 " You don't mean, sir, that you're going to resign ! " 
 said I, confounded.
 
 THE MASTER OF THE ISLAND 277 
 
 " No, I don't. Saving your objections, boy, I was 
 elected captain, and it don't do away with my re- 
 sponsibility that I choose to let discipline go to the 
 winds. If mischief comes I shall be to blame, because 
 I might have stopped it but didn't." 
 
 I was silent. This should have been the time 
 for me to tell what I had discovered that afternoon ; 
 of the graveyard and the two strange women. But 
 shame tied my tongue. I saw that this noble gentle- 
 man, in imparting his thoughts to me, was really 
 condescending to ask my pardon; and the injustice 
 of it was so monstrous that I felt a delicacy in letting 
 him know the extent of my unworthiness. I tempo- 
 rized, and promised myself a better occasion. 
 
 " But are you quite sure, sir, that yours was not 
 the wisest plan, after all ? " 
 
 " The question is not worth considering," he 
 answered. " My policy — you would hardly call it a 
 plan, for it wholly depended on circumstances — no 
 longer exists. The ladies, you see, have forced my 
 hand." 
 
 I forbore to tell him that if the ladies had forced 
 his hand his accepting full responsibility was simply 
 quixotic. 
 
 " She's a wonderful woman," said I, by way of 
 filling up the pause. 
 
 " And so womanly ! " assented Captain Branscome, 
 to my entire surprise. 
 
 " Indeed, sir," I stammered. " Well I have heard 
 people say — Mr. Kogers for one — that Miss Belcher 
 ought to have been born a man."
 
 278 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " Miss Belcher ? Why, heavens alive, boy, I was 
 referring to Miss Plinlimmon ! " 
 
 He dismissed me with a wave of the hand, but 
 called me back as I turned to the door. 
 
 " Oh, by the way," said he, " I had almost for- 
 gotten the reason why I sent for you. This man — 
 have you any notion who he can be ? " 
 
 " None, sir." 
 
 "You've thought over every possible person of 
 your acquaintance ? Well " — as I nodded — " we shall 
 know to-morrow morning, if he keeps his word. Mr. 
 Kogers has kindly undertaken to stay and look after 
 the schooner. He has a sense of discipline, by the 
 way, has Mr. Kogers." 
 
 " If you wish me, sir, to stay with him " 
 
 " Thank you," he interrupted dryly, " but we shall 
 need you ashore ; in the first place to identify this 
 mysterious stranger, and also to help protect the 
 ladies. Their escort. Heaven knows, is not excessive. 
 We take the gig, and if the man fails to appear, or 
 brings even so much as one companion, I give the 
 word to return." 
 
 ***** 
 
 But these apprehensions proved to be groundless. 
 As we rowed around the bend next morning into view 
 of the creek-head the man stood there alone, await- 
 ing us. He saw us at once, and lifted his hat in 
 welcome. 
 
 " Do you know him, Harry ? " asked Miss 
 Eelcher. 
 
 " No," said I, pretty confidently, and then—" But,
 
 THE MASTER OF THE ISLAND 279 
 
 yes — in the garden, that evening — the day you went 
 up to Plymouth for the sale ! " 
 
 "Eh? The garden at Minden Cottage? What 
 on earth was he doing there ? " 
 
 " Nothing, ma'am — at least, I don't know. He 
 seemed to be taking measurements, and he gave me 
 a guinea. I rather think, ma'am, he was the man 
 that attended the auction." 
 
 " You never saw him until that evening ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Nor afterwards ? " 
 
 " Only that once, ma'am." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Miss Belcher.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 A BOAT ON THE BEACH 
 
 As we drew to shore the stranger stepped down the 
 beach and lifted his hat again. 
 
 " Welcome, ladies ; and let me thank you and all 
 your party for this confidence. The boy here — bless 
 my soul, how he has grown in these few months ! — 
 the boy and I have had the pleasure of meeting 
 before. Eh, Harry Brooks ? You remember me ? 
 To the Captain I must introduce myself. Shake 
 hands, Captain Branscome. I am proud to make your 
 acquaintance. . . . But what is the meaning of these 
 baskets ? You have brought your own provisions ? 
 Come, Miss Belcher, that is unkind of you, when we 
 agreed — yes, surely we agreed ? — that you were to be 
 my guests." 
 
 " We were not sure, sir " began Miss Belcher. 
 
 " That I should keep my word ? Worse and 
 worse ! Or possibly you distrusted the entertainment 
 of a solitary bachelor on a desert island ? But I must 
 prove that you did me an injustice." He pointed to 
 a goodly hamper on the beach and to a frail or 
 carpenter's basket from which half a dozen bottles 
 
 280
 
 A BOAT ON THE BEACH 281 
 
 protruded their necks, topped with red and green 
 seals. "As proprietor of Mortallone — you will forgive 
 my laying stress on it — I may surely claim the right 
 to do the honours. Stay a moment, my good man," 
 he added, as Mr. Goodfellow made a motion to lift 
 out our own hamper. " Miss Plinlimmon, I believe, is 
 an admirer of natural scenery, and, if the ladies will 
 step ashore for a few minutes, there is a waterfall 
 above which may reward her inspection ; not by any 
 means, ma'am, the grandest our island can show, yet 
 charming in its way and distant but a short five 
 minutes' walk. Captain Branscome will bear me out, 
 and Harry, too — yes, Harry, too, if I mistake not, 
 visited it yesterday." 
 
 He put out a hand to assist the ladies to dis- 
 embark, at the same time hitching back the gun on 
 his bandolier. 
 
 " You will excuse my having brought a musket. 
 You have brought your own, I see. Quite right. I 
 carry it habitually ; for, to tell you the truth, the 
 island contains a few wild boars who dispute possession 
 with me. A very few — we are not likely to meet 
 with one, so the ladies may reassure themselves ! 
 But, as I was about to say, with the Captain's per- 
 mission we will not unload here. Eather, after visit- 
 ing the waterfall, I would suggest that we row round 
 to the eastern side, where, if I may guide you, you 
 will find choice of a dozen delightful spots for a 
 picnic. In this way, too, we shall cover more ground 
 and get a more general view of the beauties of the 
 island, which, as I dare say my friend Harry discovered
 
 282 POISON ISLAND 
 
 yesterday, is somewhat too thickly overgrown for easy 
 travelling." 
 
 The man's manner — at once frank, chatty, and 
 easily polite — completely disconcerted me, and I could 
 see it disconcerted the Captain. It seemed to reduce 
 the whole expedition to an ordinary picnic ; and 
 (more astonishing yet) the ladies accepted it for that. 
 They fell in, one on each side of him, as he led the 
 way to the waterfall, and for a climax Miss Belcher 
 shook out a parasol which she had been carrying under 
 her arm and spread it above her beaver hat ! 
 
 At the waterfall our host surpassed himself. The 
 landscape hereabouts (he declared) always reminded 
 him of Nicholas Poussin. He would like Miss Plinlim- 
 mon's opinion on the rock-drawing of Salvator Kosa, 
 a painter whom he gently depreciated. Had Miss 
 Plinlimmon ever visited the Apennines ? He plucked 
 a few of the ferns growing in the spray and discoursed 
 on them, comparing them with the common European 
 polypody. He turned to music, and challenged his fair 
 visitors to guess the note made by the falling water : 
 it hummed on E natural, rising now and then by 
 something less than a semitone. 
 
 With all this it was not easy to suspect him of 
 acting, as it was next to impossible to mistake him 
 for a trifler. His tall figure, his carriage, the fine 
 pose of his head, his resonant manly voice, all for- 
 bade it, no less than did the wild scenery to which 
 he drew our attention with an easy proprietary wave 
 of the hand. I observed that Captain Branscome 
 listened to him with a puzzled frown.
 
 A BOAT ON THE BEACH 283 
 
 The waterfall having been duly admired, we 
 retraced our steps to the shore. The gig carried a 
 small mast and lugsail, and, the faint wind blowing 
 fair down the creek, the Captain suggested our hoist- 
 ing them. I think it annoyed him to find himself 
 appealing to Dr. Beauregard. 
 
 " By all means," said the Doctor, affably. " It 
 will save labour till we reach open water, when I will 
 ask you to lower them. We had best use the paddles 
 after rounding the point to eastward, and keep close 
 inshore. I have my reasons for recommending this 
 — reasons which I shall be happy to explain to you, 
 sir, at the proper time." Here he bowed to Captain 
 Branscome. 
 
 Accordingly we hoisted sail, and in a few minutes 
 opened the view of the lower reach, with the Espriella 
 swinging softly at her cables, her masts reflected on 
 the scarcely rippled water. Miss Belcher broke into 
 a laugh at sight of Mr. Rogers wistfully eyeing us 
 from the deck. Dr. Beauregard echoed it, just 
 audibly. 
 
 " Well, well, ma'am ; it is hard upon Mr. — Eogers, 
 did you tell me ? But we must not blame the Captain 
 for taking precautions. A very neat craft. Captain, 
 and Jamaica-built, by the look of her." 
 
 " We picked her up at Savannah-la-Mar," announced 
 Miss Belcher. 
 
 " After burning your boats, madam ? Pardon me, 
 but I find your frankness as admirable as it is unex- 
 pected. Moreover, though Captain Branscome depre- 
 cates it, no policy could be wiser."
 
 284 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " I see no reason, sir, for being less than candid 
 with you," said Miss Belcher. " You know whence we 
 come and you know why we are here. How we came 
 is a trifling matter in comparison." 
 
 " Believe me, ma'am, your frankness is all in your 
 favour. I may repeat what I told you yesterday, that 
 several expeditions have come to this island seeking 
 treasure ; crews of merely avaricious men, mad with 
 greed, whom I have made it my business and my 
 amusement to baffle. You, on the contrary, may almost 
 count on my help ; though whether the treasure will 
 do you much good when you have found it is another 
 question altogether. But we are not treasure-seeking 
 just now, and I shall grudge even the pleasure of 
 talking if it steal your admiration from my island." 
 
 The shore by which we steered was, indeed, en- 
 trancing, and grew yet more entrancing as we rounded 
 Cape Fea and, downing sail, headed the gig for the 
 north-east, pulling almost in the shadow of the cliffs ; 
 for the sea lay calm as a pond, and broke in feeblest 
 ripples even on the beaches recessed here and there 
 in the chasms. We passed Try-again Inlet, and our 
 wonder grew ; for the cliffs now were mere cliffs no 
 longer but the bases of a range of mountains, broken 
 into rock slides with matted vines like curtains over- 
 hanging their scars ; and in the water, ten fathoms 
 deep below us, we could watch the coloured fishes at 
 play. 
 
 Mr. Goodfellow and I were at the oars ; and we 
 had been pulling, as I judged, for something over an 
 hour, but easily, for the tide could hardly be felt,
 
 A BOAT ON THE BEACH 285 
 
 when Dr. Beauregard, who had taken the tiller, steered 
 us in towards a beach which he announced to be the, 
 perhaps, very choicest in the island for a picnic. 
 
 Certainly it was a fairy-like spot, with white sand 
 underfoot, green creepers overhanging, and through 
 the creepers a rill of water splashing down the cliff; 
 yet we had passed at least a dozen other beaches, 
 which to me had looked no less inviting. 
 
 " We will leave the ladies to unpack the hampers," 
 said Dr. Beauregard. " I speak as a bachelor, but in 
 my experience there is a half-hour before lunch in 
 which that man is best appreciated who makes himself 
 scarce. Captain Brauscome, if you will not mind a 
 short scramble over the rocks here, to the left, I can 
 promise you something worth seeing." 
 
 He led the way at once and we followed, the 
 Captain (who appeared to have lost his temper again) 
 growling that he took no stock in views. But the 
 distance was not far. We scrambled over two low 
 ledges of rock and found ourselves looking down upon 
 a beach even prettier and more fairy-like than the 
 one we had left -and upon something more — a ship's 
 boat, drawn about thirty feet above high-water, and 
 resting there on her side. 
 
 " Yours ? " asked Captain Branscome, after a long 
 stare at her. 
 
 " Certainly not," answered Dr. Beauregard. " And 
 that is why I brought you here."
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 THE SCREAM ON THE CLIFF 
 
 " A BOAT ? " said Captain Branscome, staring again, 
 and slowly rubbing the back of bis bead. 
 
 He took a step forward, to descend to tbe beacb 
 and examine her, but Dr. Beauregard laid a band on 
 bis arm. 
 
 " Not so fast, my friend ! Qui clit canot dit canotier 
 — a glance will assure you tbat sbe did not beacb ber- 
 self in tbat position, above bigb-water mark, still less 
 furl ber own sail and stow it. Further, if you study 
 the country behind us, you will see tbat, while we 
 came unobserved and stand at this moment in 
 excellent cover, by crossing tbe beach we expose 
 ourselves to observation and the risk of a bullet." 
 
 " I take it, sir," answered Captain Branscome, still 
 puzzled, " you knew this boat to be here, and have 
 brought us with some purpose." 
 
 " I knew it, to be sure, and my purpose is simple. 
 We cannot have a rival party of treasure-seekers on 
 tbe island. We have ladies in our charge— gentle, 
 well-bred ladies — and of the crew of that boat, one 
 man, to my knowledge, is a pretty desperate ruffian. 
 
 The other two " 
 
 286
 
 THE SCKEAM ON THE CLIFF 287 
 
 " You have seen them, then ? " 
 
 Dr. Beauregard lifted his shoulders slightly, and 
 took snuff. 
 
 " My good friend," he answered, " as lord pro- 
 prietor of Mortallone, I pay attention to all my 
 visitors. Well, as I was saying, to cross the beach 
 just now would be venturesome and foolish to boot, 
 seeing that we hold all the cards and have only to wait." 
 
 " What of the ladies ? " asked the Captain. 
 
 " We can return at once and join them at luncheon. 
 But the ladies, as you remind me, complicate the 
 affair. Before you arrived, I had laid my plans to 
 let these rascals have the run of the island and 
 amuse me by their activities. I had, in fact, prepared 
 a little deception for them — oh, a very innocent little 
 trick ! I don't know, my dear sir, if it has struck you 
 how much simpler our amusements tend to become as 
 we grow older. I had promised myself to watch them, 
 lying perdu, and in the end to dismiss them with a 
 quiet chuckle. You have read your Tempest, Captain 
 Branscome ? Well, I have no obedient Ariel to 
 play will-o'-the-wisp with such gentry ; yet I would 
 have led them a very pretty dance. But the ladies — 
 the ladies, to be sure ! We cannot expose them to 
 dangers, nor even to alarms. We must use more 
 summary methods." He stood for a moment or two 
 reflective, tapping his snuff-box. " Mr. Goodfellow is 
 a carpenter, I understand." 
 
 " At your service, sir." 
 
 Mr. Goodfellow's hand went halfway to his waist- 
 coat pocket, as if to produce his business card.
 
 288 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " I seem to remember, Mr. Goodfellow, that you 
 carry a bag of tools in the boat ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Including, no doubt, an auger, or, at any rate, a 
 fair-sized gimlet ? " 
 
 "Both, sir." 
 
 " You will greatly oblige me, then, Mr. Goodfellow 
 — always with Captain Branscome's leave — by return- 
 ing to the boat and fetching your auger ; if possible, 
 without attracting the ladies' observation. With this, 
 instead of returning direct to us, you will make your 
 way to the left, towards the head of the beach, keep- 
 ing well under the rocks, which will serve you from 
 landward. At the head of the beach you will bring 
 us into sight a pace or two before you come abreast of 
 the boat. There, at a signal from me, you will creep 
 down to the boat — on hands and knees, or on your 
 stomach if you will — and bore me three small holes 
 close alongside her keelson, using as much expedition 
 as may consist with neatness. You understand ? 
 Then the quicker you set about it, the less will be the 
 risk. 
 
 Mr. Goodfellow touched his forelock, and sped on 
 his errand. Dr. Beauregard seated himself on the 
 rocks, and loosing the gun from his bandolier, laid it 
 across his knees. 
 
 " A simple job," he remarked. " Any one of us 
 could do it as well as Goodfellow. But it is a practice 
 of mine to take the smallest risks into account ; and 
 if the honest fellow should be detected, why, I imagine 
 he can be the most easily spared of the party."
 
 THE SOEEA.M ON THE CLIFF 289 
 
 Mr. Goodfellow, however, reached the boat without 
 misadventure. 
 
 " Ah, he displays intelligence ! " commented Dr. 
 Beauregard, watching him as, before setting to work, 
 he lifted the boat's gunwale and heaved her over on 
 her other side, exposing the bilgepiece on which she 
 had been resting. "Yes, decidedly, he displays 
 intelligence." 
 
 Mr. Goodfellow having stripped off his coat, picked 
 up his auger and bored his three holes very neatly. 
 This done he rubbed them over with a handful of 
 sand, and smoothed over with sand all traces of saw- 
 dust, heaved the boat back, so that she rested again in 
 her original position ; and retired, sweeping his coat 
 behind him, and obliterating his footprints as he went. 
 
 " Couldn't be bettered ! " said Dr. Beauregard, 
 smiling cheerfully and smoothing is gun-barrel. " And 
 now I think we may rejoin the ladies and pray that 
 these rascals will put off disturbing us until after 
 luncheon. At one time I feared they might have 
 taken a panic yesterday morning at sight of your 
 schooner ; but they calculated, maybe, that the 
 chances were all against your discovering their 
 presence, which, of course, you never suspected." 
 
 " I suspected something fast enough," said Captain 
 Branscome, " for in running along the coast I caught 
 sight of smoke rising among the hills— from a camp- 
 fire, as I reckoned— and no doubt from here or here- 
 abouts, though I should have put it a mile or two 
 farther south." 
 
 " The born fools ! " said Dr. Beauregard, laughing. 
 
 U
 
 290 POISON ISLAND 
 
 "Well, it's even possible that in their furious pre- 
 occupation they let the schooner come close without 
 spying her. Ah, Captain, you can hardly imagine — 
 you, fresh from a civilized country, where folks must 
 keep up appearances, M^hile they prey upon one 
 another — how this lust of gold brutalizes a man when, 
 as here, he pursues it without restraint. And what, 
 after all, will gold purchase ? " 
 
 " Not happiness, I verily believe," said the Captain, 
 " though to the poor — and I speak as one who has 
 been bitterly poor — it may bring happiness for a while 
 in the shape of relief from grinding discomfort." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; as pleasure lies in mere cessation from 
 pain. But that does not meet my question. We will 
 take Master Harry here, who seems a good, ordinary 
 healthy boy. We will suppose him in possession of 
 the treasure you are here to seek. What in the end can 
 he purchase with it better than the fun he is getting 
 out of this expedition ? He can indulge all his senses, 
 but for a while only ; in the end indulgence brings 
 satiety, dulls the appetite, takes the savour from the 
 feast, and so destroys itself. He can purchase power, 
 you say ? But that again moves one difficulty but a 
 step further. For what will his power give him when 
 he has won it ? These are questions. Captain, which 
 I have asked myself daily here on this island. I have 
 been asking them ever since, and while I was yet a 
 young man they came to wear for me a personal ap- 
 plication. 'Vanity of vanities,' Captain — what the 
 Preacher discovered long ago I discovered again and 
 of my own experience."
 
 THE SCREAM ON THE CLIFF 291 
 
 " The Christian religion, sir " began Captain 
 
 Branscome. But here our strange host laid a hand on 
 his arm. 
 
 " We forget our politeness," he interrupted, yet 
 gently, and without suspicion of offence. " We keep 
 the ladies waiting." 
 
 " Captain Branscome and I," said our host, as he 
 seated himself beside Miss Belcher, and uncorked one of 
 the green-sealed bottles, " have been talking platitudes, 
 to which, however, our present business lends a certain 
 fresh interest. You are here, many thousands of miles 
 from home, on a hunt for treasure. Now, Heaven forbid 
 that I should criticise your intentions, seeing that in- 
 cidentally I am in debt to them for this delightful 
 picnic; but before I help you— as, believe me, lam 
 disposed to help — may I ask what you propose to do 
 with this wealth when you get it ? " 
 
 " Why, sir," answered Miss Belcher, candidly, " we 
 discussed that, you may be sure, before starting. The 
 bulk of it, after paying expenses, was to go to young 
 Brooks, here. Circumstances had given him, as we 
 supposed — and for the matter of that, as we still 
 believe—the clue to the treasure " 
 
 " Pardon me, ma'am, for interrupting you ; but 
 did that clue take the form of a map of the 
 island?" 
 
 " It did, sir." 
 
 " A map with three red crosses upon it and some 
 writing on the back? Nay, I will not press the 
 question. Your faces answer it." 
 
 " I ought to tell you, Dr. Beauregard, in justice to
 
 292 POISON ISLAND 
 
 the boy, that he came by it honestly, though in very 
 tragic circumstances." 
 
 "Again, ma'am, your faces would answer for the 
 honesty of your business. As for the circumstances 
 you speak of, it may save time if I tell you that I 
 Imow the whole story. Why, truly," he went on, as 
 we stared, " there is no mystery about it. I dare say, 
 ma'am, the boy has found an opportunity to whisper 
 to you that he and I have met before. It was at 
 Minden Cottage, in his father's garden, and by the 
 very spot where his father was murdered. He found 
 me there taking measurements; for I had a theory 
 about the crime — a theory of which I need only say 
 here that, though right in the main, it missed certain 
 details of which Harry's engaging conversation put me 
 on the scent. I had read of the murder quite acci- 
 dentally ; but it happened that I knew something of 
 Coffin — enough to explain his fate — and of the man 
 who had murdered him. But of Major Brooks I knew 
 nothing ; and what I gathered by inquiry made the 
 whole affair more and more puzzling. At length I hit 
 on the explanation that Coffin — who had reasons, and 
 strong ones, for going in deadly terror of Aaron Glass 
 — had in some way chosen this Major Brooks for his 
 confessor, and journeyed to Minden Cottage to deposit 
 the secret with him ; and that Glass, following in 
 pursuit, had surprised and murdered the both of them. 
 The exact catena of the two crimes mattered less to 
 me than the question : Had Glass possessed himself 
 of the secret before making off? At first I saw no 
 room to doubt it. But your young friend's account of
 
 THE SCREAM ON THE CLIFF 293 
 
 himself sent me to Falmouth, and at Falmouth I began 
 to have my doubts. My earliest inquiries there were 
 addressed to the pedagogue — the Eeverend Something- 
 or-other Stimcoe — a drunken idiot, who yielded no in- 
 formation at all ; and to his wife, a lady who persisted 
 in regarding me as sent from heaven for no other pur- 
 pose than to discharge her small debts. From her, 
 again, I learned nothing. But from a talk with one 
 of her pupils — his name was Bates, if I remember — I 
 discovered that Master Harry had been a particular 
 crony of Coffin's, and this, of course, threw light on 
 Coffin's visit to Minden Cottage. Still, there remained 
 the question : Had Glass managed to lay hands on 
 the chart, or had it found its way, after all, into the 
 possession of Master Harry Brooks ? You'll excuse me, 
 young sir " — Dr. Beauregard turned to me — " but 
 during our talk in the garden, your manner suggested 
 to me that you had a card up your sleeve. Well, 
 whatever the answer, my obvious course was to return 
 to Mortallone and await it, as for fifteen years already 
 I have been awaiting it, though question and answer 
 were but now beginning to take definite form. Here 
 you are then at last, and here am I — tout vient a 'point 
 a qui sait attendre" 
 
 " Then our arrival, sir, did not altogether surprise 
 you ? " said Miss Belcher. 
 
 " On the contrary, ma'am — though for reasons you 
 will not easily guess — it surprised me as I have never 
 been surprised in all my life before ; it confounded 
 me, dumfounded me, made chaos of my plans, and — 
 and — I am delighted to welcome you, ma'am ! I
 
 294 POISON ISLAND 
 
 desire to be allowed the honour of taking wine with 
 you." 
 
 " "Willingly ! " assented Miss Belcher, holding out 
 her glass to be replenished ; " and the more so because 
 I never drank better Rhone wine in my life." 
 
 Dr. Beauregard stood up and bowed, his fine 
 features overspread with a flush of pleased astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Madam " began Dr. Beauregard, and I have 
 
 no doubt he had a compliment on his lips. But at 
 that moment the hills and the amphitheatre of cliff 
 behind us, rang out — rang out and echoed — with two 
 terrible screams.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 AAEON GLASS 
 
 The second scream followed the first almost before we 
 could lift our faces to the cliff. Dr. Beauregard had 
 risen to his feet quickly, without fuss, and was un- 
 strapping his gun. But Miss Belcher was quicker. 
 A couple of muskets lay on the sand close beside the 
 luncheon-cloth, and in a trice she had snatched up 
 one of them, and held our host covered. 
 
 " You have deceived us, sir," she said quietly. 
 
 Dr. Beauregard looked along the barrel and into 
 her eyes with an admiring, half- quizzical smile. 
 
 " Good," said he. " Good, but unnecessary. That 
 the island is inhabited I supposed you to know, since 
 Captain Branscome tells me he reported catching 
 sight of smoke yesterday when off the western coast ; 
 but the fellows — there are, or were, three of them, by 
 the way — are no friends of mine." 
 
 " We have only your word ifor it," said Miss 
 Belcher, without lowering her musket. 
 
 " True, ma'am," the Doctor assented, with a bow. 
 " I am about to give you proof. But first of all oblige 
 me by listening for another moment." 
 
 295
 
 296 POISON ISLAND 
 
 He held up his hand, and while we all listened I 
 looked around from face to face. Captain Branscome 
 had unslipped his gun, and stood eyeing the Doctor 
 with a puzzled frown. Plinny stared up at the cliffs. 
 She was white to the lips, but the lips were firmly set ; 
 whereas Mr. Goodfellow's jaw hung as though loosed 
 from its tacklings. 
 
 So we waited for twenty seconds, maybe ; but no 
 third scream came down from the heights. 
 
 " That makes one accounted for," said Dr. Beaure- 
 gard. " I have known, first and last, eleven parties 
 who hunted treasure on this island. They all 
 quarrelled. They quarrelled, moreover, every one of 
 them, before getting their stuff — such as it was — to 
 the boats. Now, if you will permit me to say so, your 
 own success— when you obtain it— will be a fluke and 
 an absurd fluke. It will stultify every rule of pre- 
 caution and violate every law of chance. I have 
 studied this game for close upon twenty years, and 
 reduced it almost to mathematics ; and I foresee 
 that you will play — nay, you have already played — 
 ninepins with my most certain conclusions. But you 
 have as gentlefolks, with all the disabilities of gentle- 
 folks, the one thing that all these experts have fatally 
 lacked. You have self-command." 
 
 " It appears to me that we need it, at any rate," 
 said Miss Belcher, tartly, " if we are to be favoured 
 just now with a lecture." 
 
 Dr. Beauregard smiled. "The purport of my 
 lecture, ma'am, was to prepare you for a question 
 which I have to put. When these men arrive,
 
 AARON GLASS 297 
 
 Captain Brauscome, Mr. Goodfellow, and I must deal 
 with them. Are you ladies prepared to exercise strong 
 self-control ? Will you, with Harry Brooks, await us 
 here until our business is over ? " 
 
 " Excuse me, sir, but I must first know what your 
 business is." 
 
 " That, ma'am, will depend upon circumstances ; 
 but it is more than likely to be serious." 
 
 "I must trouble you, now and always, to speak 
 to me definitely. If you propose to shoot these men, 
 kindly say so." 
 
 "I do not, ma'am. But their boat lies on the 
 next beach, and as soon as they launch her they will 
 discover us ; and as soon as they discover us it will be 
 life for life." 
 
 " But they need not discover us. In five minutes 
 we can embark ourselves and our belongings ; in less 
 than fifteen we can round the point to the south'ard, 
 and beyond it lie two or three small coves where, as 
 I judged in passing, a boat can lie reasonably safe 
 from observation." 
 
 " Admirably reasoned, ma'am. By all means 
 take the boat — take Harry Brooks with you, and 
 Mr. Goodfellow for protection. But Captain Brans- 
 come and I must stay and see it out with these 
 men." 
 
 " For my part," put in Plinny, " I cannot see why 
 these men have not as much right as we to the 
 treasure ; and, in any case, if we let them go they 
 leave us a clear coast to hunt for the rest." 
 
 " Captain Branscome " — Dr. Beauregard turned to
 
 298 POISON ISLAND 
 
 him — "do these ladies, as a rule, assert a voice in 
 your dispositions ? " 
 
 " They do, sir," answered the Captain, with a tired 
 smile ; " and if you will take my adyice, the only way 
 with them is to make a clean breast of everything." 
 
 " I will." The Doctor faced about, with a smile. 
 " You must know then, ladies, that these two ruffians 
 — for by this time there are two only — will presently 
 be coming down to the next beach to launch their 
 boat and leave the island. How do I know this? 
 Because my study of treasure-hunters has given me a 
 kind of instinct ; or because, if you prefer it, I have 
 observed that the moment — the crucial moment — 
 when these fellows quarrel is always the moment 
 when, having laid hands on as much as they can 
 carry, they turn to retreat. You doubt my diagnosis, 
 ma'am ? " he asked, turning to Miss Belcher. " Then 
 I can convince you even more simply. These men 
 are not camping here to-night ; they will not return 
 to-morrow to fetch a second load; and for the suffi- 
 cient reason that there is no second load. I know 
 the amount of treasure hidden where they have been 
 searching. Two men can lift and carry it easily." 
 
 " How do you happen to know this ? " asked Miss 
 Belcher, eyeing him from under contracted brows. 
 
 "For the excellent reason, ma'am, that I put the 
 treasure there myself." 
 
 The answer, staggering to the rest of us, seemed 
 to brace her together. She had lowered her musket 
 at the beginning of the discussion ; but now, throwing 
 up her head with a sharp jerk, she levelled her eyes
 
 AARON GLASS 299 
 
 on Dr. Beauregard's, as straight as though they 
 looked along a gun-barrel. 
 
 " Then it can hardly be for the sake of the 
 treasure, sir, that you propose to deal with these men." 
 
 " It is not, ma'am." 
 
 *' Nor solely to protect us from them, since you 
 have brought us here, where we need never have 
 come." 
 
 "Ko, ma'am. I brought you here because I can- 
 not be in two places at once, and it was necessary to 
 keep both parties under my eye. Having brought 
 you, I am bound to protect you ; but my main busi- 
 ness here, and yours — or at any rate Captain Brans- 
 come's — is to punish." 
 
 " To punish ? But why to punish ? " 
 
 Dr. Beauregard hesitated, with a glance at Plinny 
 and at me, who stood beside her. 
 
 " A word in your ear, ma'am — if you will allow 
 me?" 
 
 He stepped close to Miss Belcher, and spoke a 
 sentence or two which I could not catch. But my 
 eyes were on her face, and I saw it change colour. 
 The next moment her square mouth shut like a trap. 
 
 "If that be so, I wait for him along with you," 
 she announced. " Oh, you may trust me, sir ! I 
 have a fairly strong stomach with criminals, and no 
 sentiment." 
 
 " It shall be as you please, ma'am. But, for the 
 others, I would suggest their taking the boat and 
 awaiting us around the point. See, the tide has 
 risen, and within five minutes she will float. Mr.
 
 300 POISOK ISLAi^t) 
 
 Goodfellow, will you accompany Miss Plinlimmon and 
 the boy ? Wait, please, until completely afloat before 
 pushing ofif ; for our friends must be near at hand by 
 this time, and the grating of her keel might give 
 them the alarm. For the same reason, ma'am, unless 
 you have any particular question to ask, we had best 
 start at once, and, when we have started, keep the 
 strictest silence. Shall I lead the way ? " 
 
 They set off very cautiously, the Doctor leading, 
 Miss Belcher close at his heels, Captain Branscome 
 a couple of paces behind her ; gained the ridge, and 
 passed out of sight around an angle of the rocks. 
 Now, to be left in this fashion was not at all to my 
 mind. It seemed to me that, when serious business 
 was on hand, every one conspired to treat me as a 
 baby. I had told Captain Branscome yesterday that 
 I would not put up with it ; and though I stood in 
 far greater awe of Dr. Beauregard than of the 
 Captain, I felt none the less mutinous now. Plinny, 
 who in moments of agitation invariably had recourse to 
 some familiar work for a sedative, was on her knees 
 repacking the luncheon-baskets. Her back was turned 
 to me, and from her I glanced towards Mr. Good- 
 fellow, who had stepped down to the boat, and was 
 leaning over the gunwale to rearrange the gear. 
 From him I looked up the beach, to the ridge behind 
 which the others had disappeared, and to the creepers 
 overhanging the cliff. Suddenly it came into my 
 head that by gaining the upper end of the ridge, 
 where it met the cliff, I could wriggle under these 
 creepers, and observe from behind them all that went
 
 AARON GLASS 301 
 
 on, as well on the next beach as on this. And with 
 another glance at Plinny's back I tiptoed away. 
 
 I moved as swiftly as I dared, making no noise, 
 nor looked behind me until I reached the rocks under 
 the cliff — the path by which Mr. Goodfellow had crept 
 round to scuttle the boat. 
 
 I calculated that by working my way along for 
 fifty yards between them and the rock-face I should 
 gain an opening which, observed from below, had. 
 seemed to promise me an excellent view of the next 
 beach. But they hung so heavily that I found my- 
 self struggling in an almost impenetrable thicket ; 
 and when at length I gained the opening, and drew 
 breath, above the splash of waves on the beach I heard 
 a sound which caused me to huddle back like a rabbit 
 surprised in the mouth of his burrow. 
 
 Some three yards from my hiding the bank of low 
 clifl^ bounding the beach shelved upward and inland 
 in a stretch of short turf, and from the head of this 
 slope came the thud of footsteps — of heavy footsteps 
 descending closer and closer. 
 
 I drew back under the creepers, and held my 
 breath. Between their thick woven strands my eyes 
 caught only, to the right, a twinkle of the sea; in 
 front, a yard or two of white shingle glittering beyond 
 the green shade ; and, five seconds later, this patch 
 was blotted out as two men plunged past my spyhole. 
 They walked abreast, and carried a box between them. 
 I could hear them panting, so closely they passed. 
 
 They halted on the edge of the bank. 
 
 " The boat's all right," said one ; and I heard him
 
 302 POISON ISLAND 
 
 jump down upon the shingle. It seemed to me that 
 I knew his voice. " Here, pass down the blamed 
 thing . . . d n it all, man ! " 
 
 " I caiitl'' whimpered the other. " S'help me, Bill, 
 I can't. . . . I'm not used to it, and I ain't got the 
 nerve." 
 
 " Nerve ? An' you call yourself a seaman ! An' 
 a plucky lot you boasted the night we signed articles. 
 . . . Nerve ? Why, you was the very man to find 
 fault with him. * Couldn't stand his temper another 
 day,' you said ; and must do something desprit. 
 Those were your very words." 
 
 " I know it. I didn't think " 
 
 " Oh, to hell with your * didn't think ' ! The man's 
 dead, an' cryin' won't bring him back. Much you'd 
 welcome him, if he did come back ! " 
 
 "Dow'i^, Bill!" 
 
 "Now, look you here, Jim Lucky! Stand you 
 up, and help me get this lot in the boat, and the boat 
 to sea. After that you can lie quiet and cry yourself 
 sick. . . . You'll be all right to-morrow, fit as a fiddle. 
 I've been in this business before, and seen how it 
 takes men, even the strongest. It's the sight o' 
 blood ; but the stomach gets accustomed. ... By this 
 day week you'll be lively as a flea in a rug, and 
 lookin' forward to drivin' in your carriage-an'-pair. 
 I promise you that ; but what you've to do at this 
 moment is to stand up, and help me get down the 
 boat. For if Ae's anywhere on this island, God help 
 the pair of us ! " 
 
 " jHe .' " quavered Jim Lucky.
 
 AARON GLASS 303 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder." 
 
 " But you told me he was dead ! " 
 
 " Did I ? Well, perhaps I did. That was to keep 
 your spirits up. But now I don't mind tellin' you 
 that I'm not sure. He oiiglit to be dead by this time ; 
 but 'tis a question if the likes of him ever die. He's 
 own cousin to the devil, I tell you ; and if he's any- 
 where alive, like as not he's watching us at this 
 moment." 
 
 Whatever this meant, it appeared to rouse Jim 
 Lucky, and start him in a panic. I heard him sob 
 as he helped to lower their burden upon the beach. 
 All this time they had been standing immediately 
 beneath me, and I dared not lift my head for a look. 
 But now, as they went staggering down the beach, 
 I parted the creepers, and stared in their wake. 
 They carried a heavy sea-chest between them, but my 
 eyes were neither for the chest nor for Jim Lucky, 
 but for his companion, the man he called Bill. 
 
 I knew him before I looked; and as I had 
 recognized his voice, so now I recognized his narrow, 
 foxy head, and sloping shoulders. 
 
 It was Aaron Glass. 
 
 The two men carried the chest along at a rate 
 that perhaps came easily enough to Jim Lucky, who 
 was a young giant of a seaman, but was astonishing 
 for a thin, windlestraw of a man such as Glass. He 
 ploughed his way across the sands like a demon, 
 and had scarcely set down the chest, a little above 
 the water's edge, before he was tugging at the boat. 
 I heard him call to Lucky to help, and the pair
 
 304 POISON ISLAND 
 
 heave-y-iio'ed together as tliey strained at the gunwale 
 to lift her and run her down. 
 
 From this ridge, as yet, came no sign. 
 
 Presently from the boat— they had pulled her 
 down to the water, and were both stooping over her 
 with their shoulders well inside, busy in arranging 
 her bottom board — I heard a fearful oath ; an oath 
 that rose in a scream, as the two men faced each 
 other, scared, incredulous. 
 
 ''Scuttled,hj God!" 
 
 It was Glass who screamed it out, and with the 
 sound of it a host of sea-birds rose from the neigh- 
 bouring rocks, whitening the sky. But Jim Lucky 
 cast up both hands and ran. 
 
 " Stop, you fool ! Stop ! " 
 
 I think the poor creature had no notion whither 
 he ran ; that he was merely demented. But, in fact, 
 he headed straight for the ridge, not turning his head. 
 Twice Glass called after him ; then, in a sudden fury, 
 whipped out a pistol and fired. For the moment I 
 supposed that he had missed, for the man ran for 
 another six strides without seeming to falter, then his 
 knees weakened, and he pitched forward on his face. 
 
 I believe, on my word, that Glass had either fired 
 in blind passion or with intent to stop the man rather 
 than to kill him. He stood and stared ; and, while 
 the pistol yet smoked in his hand, I saw Dr. Beau- 
 regard step forth from his shelter, step delicately 
 past the corpse, and raise his musket; and heard 
 his clear, resonant voice call out — 
 
 " Both hands up, ]\Ir. Glass, if you please ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 WE COME TO DR. BEAUREGAED's HOUSE 
 
 Glass's arm fell limp by his side, as though Dr. Beau- 
 regard had actually pulled the trigger and winged 
 him. He turned half-about as the pistol slid from 
 his fingers. He gave no cry; only there reached 
 us a loose, throttling sound such as a steam whistle 
 makes before fetching its note. It came to us in the 
 lull between two waves that broke and raced up the 
 sands to ripple around his feet. 
 
 " Both hands up, Mr. Glass ! " 
 
 Dr. Beauregard advanced a step. 
 
 But instead of lifting his arms, the man curved 
 them before him, and held them so, as if to protect 
 his treasure, while he sank on his knees beside the 
 box. His face was yellow with terror. 
 
 "You fool!" The Doctor, still holding him 
 covered, advanced step by step to the box, and 
 bent over it, staring down at him. The rest of us 
 — that is to say, Miss Belcher, Captain Branscome, 
 and I — under I know not what compulsion, followed 
 and came to a halt a few paces behind him. Stand- 
 ing 80, 1 felt, rather than saw, that Plinny and Mr, 
 
 305 X
 
 306 POISON ISLAND 
 
 Goodfellow, attracted by the report of the pistol, were 
 peering at us over the ridge of rocks on the right. 
 
 "You fool!" Dr. Beauregard repeated, and sud- 
 denly dropped the butt of his musket upon the loose 
 cover of the chest. 
 
 " You fool ! " said he, a third time, and tearing 
 aside a splintered board, dipped his hand and held it up 
 full of sparkling stones. Opening his fingers slowly, 
 he let a few jewels rattle back upon the heap, and 
 held out a moderate fistful towards the cowering 
 Glass. " Did you actually suppose, having proved 
 me once, that I would suffer such a common cut- 
 throat as you to march ojBf with my treasure ? Look 
 up at me, man ! I charge you with having murdered 
 Coffin, even as you have just murdered that other 
 poor blockhead who trusted you." He nodded side- 
 ways—but still keeping his eyes upon Glass — towards 
 the body, which lay as it had fallen. " Answer me. 
 Are you guilty ? Yes or no ? " 
 
 The man's mouth worked, but his tongue crackled 
 in his mouth like a parched leaf. 
 
 " Yes, I know what you would say ; that you had 
 some excuse — that Coffin in his time had stuck at 
 nothing to be quit of you; that he sold you to the 
 pressgang; that through Coffin you spent eight, 
 ten — how many years? — in the war-prisons; that he 
 believed you dead, as he had taken pains to kill 
 you. Well, we'll grant it. As between two scoundrels 
 I'll not trouble to weigh the rights against the 
 wrongs. But look at this boy, here. You recognize 
 him, hey ? I charge you with having murdered his
 
 WE COME TO DR. BEAUREGARDS HOUSE 307 
 
 father, Major Brooks, as you murdered Coffin. You 
 have run up a pretty long account, my friend, for 
 so clumsy a performer ; but I think you have reached 
 the end of it." 
 
 Aaron Glass looked at me and blinked. Terror 
 of the man confronting him had twisted his dumb 
 mouth into a kind of grin horrible to see. It lifted 
 his lip, like the snarl of dog, over his yellow teeth. 
 Dr. Beauregard laughed softly. 
 
 " And all for what ? For an imperfect chart — and 
 for these ! " He thrust his hand close up to Glass's 
 face, and spread his fingers wide, letting the gems 
 drip between them, and rain back into the treasure- 
 chest. " What's wrong with them ? That's what you'd 
 be asking — eh ? — if your poor tongue could find the 
 words. Why, only this, my friend — yes, look well 
 at them — that I hid them myself, and every one of 
 them is false." 
 
 "False !" I could see Glass's mouth at work, his 
 lips forming to the echo of the word, as it struck 
 across his terror like a whip. But he achieved no 
 articulate sound. 
 
 " I give you my word " resumed Dr. Beau- 
 regard ; but a thud interrupted him. Glass had 
 fallen forward in a faint, striking his forehead 
 against the edge of the chest, and lay face down- 
 ward — with the blood oozing from his temple and 
 discolouring the sand. As the Doctor paused and 
 bent over him, another wave came rippling up the 
 beach, throwing a long, thin, curve of foam before 
 it, and washed out the stain.
 
 308 POISON ISLAND 
 
 "Is— is he dead?" I heard Plinny's voice 
 quavering. 
 
 "Not yet, ma'am," answered the Doctor, grimly; 
 and, taking the inanimate body by the collar, he 
 drew it above reach of the waves, and turned it over. 
 
 " You are a doctor, sir." 
 
 "Yes, ma'am, and have some small skill." He 
 put up a hand to his breast-pocket, half withdrew 
 it, and hesitated. " You have baulked me of a pretty 
 little scheme," he said quietly. And still while he 
 addressed us he seemed to be considering. "Think 
 of this fellow's face when he got his treasure across 
 to the mainland and attempted to trade it ! To be 
 sure, he gave us some fun for our pains " 
 
 " If you call it fun, sir," protested Plinny. 
 
 " Well, yes, ma'am," he answered quietly, kneel- 
 ing and lifting Glass's head, and resting it across 
 his thigh. " My humour may be of a primitive sort, 
 but I confess it tickled by shocking a murderer 
 into a fainting fit." He felt in his breast-pocket and 
 drew forth a small phial. "No, sir," — he turned to 
 Captain Branscome, who had stepped forward to offer 
 his help — "let me alone, please. I prefer to treat 
 my patient in my own way. It will be best, on the 
 whole, for everybody." 
 
 He forced Glass's mouth wide open, and with one 
 hand poured about half the contents of the phial 
 between the patient's teeth, drop by drop, very 
 patiently, with the other smoothing the gullet between 
 finger and thumb. 
 
 We all stood watching while he administered the
 
 WE COME TO DR. BEAUREGARD'S HOUSE 309 
 
 dose, Miss Belcher close beside me, with her hand on 
 my shoulder. At the twentieth drop or so I felt 
 her give a start, as though a thought had suddenly- 
 occurred to her, and I looked up into her face. Her 
 eyes were fixed inquiringly on Dr. Beauregard, and he, 
 happening also to look up, met them with a smile. 
 
 "You will see in a moment," he said, as if 
 answering her thought, and, reaching forward, he laid 
 two fingers on Glass's pulse. " Yes, in a moment 
 now." 
 
 Sure enough, in a moment Glass's eyelids flut- 
 tered a little, and he came back to life with an 
 audible catch of the breath. 
 
 "In two minutes' time, sir" — the Doctor turned 
 to Captain Branscome — "I shall be glad of your 
 services, and of Mr. Goodfellow's, to carry the fellow 
 down to the boat — that is to say, if, in deference to 
 the ladies, you have really decided not to leave him 
 here to his fate. He will sleep after this; nay, if 
 you will listen, he is sleeping already. The other 
 man is dead, I suppose ? " 
 
 " He must have died instantly," answered Captain 
 Branscome, who had stepped across to the body to 
 assure himself. 
 
 "I had no doubt of it, by the way he dropped. 
 Well, there is no need to fetch a spade. Their 
 thoughtfulness provided one. You will find it in the 
 boat there." 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 Half an hour later we embarked, leaving behind 
 us on the beach a scuttled boat, a mound of sand,
 
 310 POISON ISLAND 
 
 and a chest of false jewellery, over the top of which 
 the rising tide had already begun to lap. 
 
 Aaron Glass lay along the bottom boards, asleep 
 and breathing apoplectically. I pulled the stroke 
 paddle, Mr. Goodfellow the bow, and the Captain 
 steered. Dr. Beauregard addressed himself to the 
 ladies, of whom Miss Belcher sat with a corrugated 
 brow, as though turning a thought over and over in her 
 mind, and Plinny with scared eyes, staring into vacancy. 
 
 "I am sorry, indeed, ladies," said the Doctor, 
 " that I could not have spared you this. The fool 
 shot his mate — you saw it yourselves — without rhyme 
 or reason. Against madness, and the impulses of 
 madness, no man can calculate. I might plead, too, 
 that in an undertaking like this you match your- 
 selves against forces with which it is not given to 
 ladies to cope. I grant admiringly the courage that 
 brought you across thousands of miles to Mortallone, 
 as I grant, and again admiringly, the steadiness of 
 your behaviour this afternoon. But one thing you 
 did not know — that in the nature of things you were 
 bound to meet with such men and see such things 
 done. I have not lived beside treasure all these 
 years without learning that it attracts such men as 
 carrion attracts the vultures. Hide it where you 
 will, from the end of the earth some bird of prey will 
 spy it out, or at least some scent of it will lie and 
 draw such prowlers as this fellow." Dr. Beauregard 
 touched the sleeping man contemptuously with the 
 toe of his boot. " I myself have been — shall we say ? 
 — fortunate. I have emptied, or assisted to empty,
 
 WE COME TO DR. BEAUREOARD'S HOUSE 311 
 
 two caches of treasure in this island. A third 
 remains, of which you have the secret, and I believe 
 it to be the richest of all. But before you attempt 
 it, I have a mind to tell you something of the other 
 two, that at least you may not attempt it unwarned." 
 
 " You may spare yourself the pains, sir," said Miss 
 Belcher, decisively ; " since our minds are made up. 
 You might, I doubt not, succeed in frightening us; 
 but since you will not deter us, I suggest that the less 
 we hear the better." 
 
 The Doctor bowed. " Ah, madam," sighed he, " if 
 only Fate had timed your adventure two years ago ; 
 or if, departing with the treasure, you could even now 
 leave me to regrets— in peace ! " 
 
 " My good sir," said Miss Belcher, sharply, " I 
 haven't a doubt you mean something or other; but 
 what precisely it is, I cannot conceive." 
 
 "You will go, madam, leaving my island twice 
 empty. That is Fate, and I consent with Fate. But 
 the devil of it is, ma'am — if I may use the expression 
 — your removing the treasure will not prevent others 
 coming to look for it, and annoying an old age which 
 has ceased to set store on wealth, or on anything that 
 wealth can purchase." 
 
 She looked at him oddly. " Well, now," she con- 
 fessed, " you are a mystery to me in half a dozen ways ; 
 but if on top of all you mean to turn pious " 
 
 He laughed, and when the laugh was done it seemed 
 to prolong itself inside him for fully half a minute. 
 
 "You are right, ma'am. Let us be practical 
 again ; and, as the first practical question, let me ask
 
 312 POISON ISLAND 
 
 yon, or Captain Branscome, what you propose to do 
 with this man ? Obviously, we cannot take him along 
 with us after the treasure." 
 
 "Well, I imagine we are returning to the 
 schooner. He can be left on board, in charge of Mr. 
 Kogers." 
 
 "But I was about to suggest that we take Mr. 
 Eogers along with us. In some ways, he is the most 
 active of the party, and we can hardly spare him." 
 
 " Of Goodfellow, then, or whomsoever Captain 
 Branscome may appoint to take charge of the ship." 
 
 The Doctor sat silent, as though busy with a 
 thought that had suddenly occurred to him. After a 
 minute, he lifted his head and threw a quick glance 
 upward at the sky. 
 
 "The breeze is freshening again. Captain," he 
 announced. " If you care to hoist sail, the rowers can 
 take a rest, at least until we reach Cape Fea." 
 
 Captain Branscome gave permission to hoist sail, 
 and soon we were running homeward with as much 
 as we could carry. There was no danger, however, 
 for beyond the northern point of Tryagain Inlet the 
 water lay smooth all along the shore. Dr. Beauregard 
 here called on Plinny to admire the scenery, and, 
 borrowing her sketchbook and pencil, dashed off a 
 bold drawing of Cape Fea as, rounding a little to the 
 westward, we caught sight of it standing out boldly 
 against the afternoon sun. As he drew it, he guided 
 the talk gently back to ordinary topics — to England 
 and English scenery, to the charm of English domestic 
 architecture, and ptirticularly of our great counUy
 
 WE COME TO DR. BEAUREGARD'S HOUSE 313 
 
 seats, to gardens and gardening, of which he pro- 
 fessed himself a devotee. 
 
 " Ah," he sighed at length, drawing a long breath ; 
 " if you, my friends, only knew how much of what is 
 happiest in life you carry in your own breasts ! I 
 used — forgive me — to laugh at such pleasures as I 
 am enjoying at this moment. I see that nothing but 
 gaiety and a simple heart can bring a man peace at 
 the last — and now it is too late to begin ! " 
 
 Plinny, not understanding in the least, opened wide 
 eyes upon him. His tone seemed to ask for her pity. 
 " Yes, yes. I have sought hard for pleasure and 
 grudged no price for it ; but the stuff I bought was 
 all flash and sham — like this fool's diamonds — flash 
 and sham, and the end of it weariness. Well, there 
 is money left. You shall take it and endow a hospital 
 if you choose, and that no doubt will increase your 
 happiness and make it thrive. But the root of the 
 plant lies within you. Pardon me, ma'am" — he 
 looked towards Miss Belcher — "the question sounds 
 an impudent one, I know, but are you not, even for 
 England, a well-to-do lady ? " 
 
 " I have a trifle more than my neighbours," owned 
 Miss Belcher. "But it's almost more plague than 
 blessing ; at least I call it so, sometimes, which is a 
 different thing from being ready to give it up." 
 " And you, ma'am ? " He turned to Plinny. 
 " I have enough for my needs, I thank God," she 
 answered. " But I have known what it is to be poor." 
 " Quite so," he nodded. " And yet you have come 
 thousands uf miles, you twOj in search of treasure ! "
 
 314 POISON ISLAND 
 
 At the entrance of Gow's Gulf we downed sail 
 and took to our paddles again. The tide helped us 
 against the breeze and within half an hour we came 
 in sight of the schooner lying peacefully at anchor as 
 we had left her. 
 
 So, at least, and at first glance, it seemed ; but as 
 we drew near. Captain Branscome stood up suddenly, 
 the tiller-lines in his hands. 
 
 " Hallo ! Where's the dinghy ? " 
 
 It was gone ; and — what was worse — our repeated 
 hails fetched no answering hail from the ship. But 
 just as we were beginning to feel seriously alarmed a 
 voice shouted from the opposite shore, and Mr. Rogers 
 came sculling out from the shadow of the woods, 
 working the dinghy towards us with a single paddle 
 overstern. 
 
 " Sorry, Captain ! " he hailed. " Two deserters in 
 two days ! Oh, we're a cheerful team to drive ! But 
 
 I have my excuse ready. The fact is " Here, 
 
 catching sight of Dr. Beauregard, Mr. Rogers stopped 
 short. 
 
 "I fancy," said the Doctor, amiably, turning to 
 Captain Branscome, " your friend has not his excuse 
 so ready as he supposed. Doubtless he'll impart it to 
 you later on. Meanwhile, I would suggest that we 
 take him along with us." 
 
 "But where are we going?" asked Captain 
 Branscome. 
 
 " To my house. Ah, it is news to you that I have 
 one? You supposed, perhaps, that the Lord Pro- 
 prietor of Mortallone roosted at night in the trees ?
 
 WE COME TO DR. BEAUREGARD'S HOUSE 315 
 
 But where, in that case, would he stock his wine? 
 My dear sir, I have a house, and cellarage, to the 
 both of which you shall be made welcome. Even if 
 you decline my hospitality we have the invalid here 
 to dispose of, and surely you won't condemn a man 
 of my years to carry him home pick-a-back ! " 
 
 " But the schooner " 
 
 "I give you my word of honour, sir, that your 
 ship shall not be visited nor tampered with in any 
 way. Eeturn when you will, you shall find her pre- 
 cisely as she lies now. In another two hours even 
 this faint breeze will have died down, as you are 
 seamen enough to know. The anchorage is land- 
 locked ; the bottom is perfect holding ; and as for 
 unwelcome visitors, there can be none. I am the sole 
 resident on this island ! " 
 
 I looked up at Dr. Beauregard sharply ; and so, it 
 seemed to me, did Mr. Kogers, who had fallen along- 
 side. 
 
 " That is to say," continued the Doctor, quietly, 
 without regarding either of us, "the only male 
 resident." 
 
 "All the same I don't like it," persisted the 
 Captain, and shook his head, at the same time lifting 
 his eyes towards Miss Belcher ; " and it's clear against 
 my rule." 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense ! " said Miss Belcher. " We 
 ought to be grateful to Dr. Beauregard for taking 
 this creature Glass off our hands. I was thinking a 
 moment ago that for a thousand pounds I'd rather he 
 was anywhere than on board our ship. The least we
 
 316 POISON ISLAND 
 
 can do is to bear a hand with him ; and if we don't 
 like the house we can come away." 
 
 "And before nightfall, if you insist," added Dr. 
 Beauregard, genially. "But the afternoon is young, 
 and between now and nightfall you may all have 
 made your fortunes. Who knows ? " 
 
 Captain Branscome yielded, after a look at Plinny, 
 who backed up Miss Belcher, declaring herself ardent 
 for new adventures. I began to see that the Captain 
 was wax in the hands of these two, and it puzzled me, 
 who had some experience of him both in school and 
 on shipboard. 
 
 Instead, then, of heading for the ship, we rowed 
 past her and up the creek — Mr. Eogers following in 
 his dinghy — and disembarked at the landing-place 
 under the green knoll. While Dr. Beauregard and 
 Mr. Goodfellow lifted out Aaron Glass, and while 
 the Captain explained to Mr. Eogers where and 
 how we came by such a passenger, I stared about 
 me, wondering where the Doctor's house might be 
 and where the approach to it. For I remembered 
 the narrow gorge leading up to the waterfalls and 
 the thick, precipitous woods on either hand; and 
 how such a party as ours, including two ladies and 
 a sick man, could hope to penetrate those woods or 
 climb those waterfalls was a puzzle. 
 
 In ten minutes Mr. Goodfellow had patched up 
 a fairly serviceable litter with the boat's sail and a 
 couple of paddles. Dr. Beauregard bestowed the 
 patient in it carefully enough, and, when all was 
 ready, led the way. The two carriers, Mr. Bogers
 
 WE COME TO DR. BEAUREGARD'S HOUSE 317 
 
 and Mr. Goodfellow, came next with the litter 
 between them, and at a nod from the former I fell 
 in beside him. The Captain and the two ladies 
 brought up the rear. 
 
 "Harry," whispered BIr. Rogers, as we wound 
 our way round the knoll, "is this really the man 
 who " 
 
 " This is Aaron G-lass," I said. 
 
 He stared down — for he carried the hinder end 
 of the litter — upon the villainous, unconscious face. 
 
 "He looks a pretty bad one," said Mr. Rogers, 
 after a pause. 
 
 "You should have seen him on the beach," 
 said I. 
 
 "I've seen something myself," said he. "Closer, 
 boy — there was a woman came down to the shore 
 just now, waving to the ship and crying. At iirst 
 I took her for a child. She was dressed all in white 
 — white muslin and ribbons, you know — the sort of 
 rig you see at a children's party ; but when I rowed 
 over close to her " 
 
 "I know her," I said. "I met her in the woods 
 yesterday." 
 
 "That explains; though I call it an infernal 
 shame you didn't tell. I rowed across to find out 
 what ailed her : she stood waving her arms so, and 
 crying — like a child in distress. When I came near 
 she called out to me to stop. 'Not you/ she said, 
 * the little boy ! Where is the little boy ? ' I told 
 her that we had a boy on board, but that just now 
 you were off on a cruise ; and with that she turned
 
 318 POISON ISLAND 
 
 right about, and ran up through the woods and out 
 of sight ; but for some way I could hear her crying 
 and calling out just as before : ' The little boy ! ' it 
 was ; * Where is the little boy ? ' — meaning you, I 
 suppose." 
 
 We were now come to the foot of the first water- 
 fall, an obvious cul de sac for a party which included 
 two ladies and a sick man on a litter. I stood 
 gazing up at the wet, slippery rocks by which I 
 had made my ascent yesterday, and searching in 
 vain for a more practicable path. Dr. Beauregard 
 halted and turned upon me with a smile. 
 
 " A moment," said he, " and you will grant that 
 my privacy is rather neatly protected. But first " — 
 he pointed to the water pouring past us from the 
 pool beneath the fall — "you may remark that the 
 stream here has more than twice the volume of the 
 stream you see coming down the rocks." 
 
 I looked. The difference was plain enough, and 
 I had been a fool in failing to observe it. 
 
 "The reason being," he went on, "that a second 
 and larger stream flows into the pool under the very 
 stones on which you are standing. I myself laid that 
 channel for it, almost ten years ago, and Nature has 
 very kindly helped to disguise it. Now, if you will 
 follow me " 
 
 He drew aside a mat of creepers overhanging a 
 bush to the left of the path, and, stooping, disap- 
 peared into a dim, green tunnel, so artfully contrived 
 that even without its curtain of creepers it suggested 
 no more than a chance gap in the undergrowth. The
 
 WE COME TO DE. BEAUEEaARD'S HOUSE 319 
 
 tunnel zigzagged twice at a sharp angle, and then, 
 quite suddenly, the dimness changed to warm sun- 
 light, and we emerged at his heels upon a prospect 
 that well excused my gasp of astonishment. 
 
 We stood at the lower end of a smooth, green 
 glade, through which a broad stream— a river, almost 
 — came swirling, its murmur drowned in the thunder 
 of the waterfall behind us, which the bushes now 
 concealed. The glade was, in fact, a valley-bottom, 
 thinned of undergrowth and set with tall trees ; and 
 the stream such a stream as tumbles through many 
 an English deer-park. The whole scene might have 
 been transplanted from England but for a wall of 
 naked cliff, sharply serrated, which enclosed the 
 valley on the left. And under it, like a smooth 
 military terrace at the foot of a fortress, the glade 
 curved upwards and out of sight. 
 
 The scene, I have said, was almost typically 
 English — but to the eye only. 
 
 " Faugh ! " exclaimed Miss Belcher, looking about 
 her and sniffing suspiciously. " A pretty place enough, 
 but full of malaria, or I'm a Dutchwoman ! And 
 what a horrible silence ! " 
 
 "Malaria?" said Mr. Kogers, quietly. "There's 
 better scent than malaria in this valley, and we're 
 
 hot on it. Here's the river, and What does 
 
 the chart say, boy? Five trees, a mile and a half 
 from the creek-head? We must have come a mile 
 already. Keep your eyes skinned, and give me a 
 nudge if you see such a clump." 
 
 But there was no need to keep my eyes skinned.
 
 320 POISON ISLAND 
 
 At the next beud of the glade he and I caught sight 
 of it simultaneously — a clump of noble pines that 
 would have challenged notice even had we not been 
 searching for them. My heart stood still as I counted 
 them. Yes ; there were five ! 
 
 "I haven't often wanted to put a knife into a 
 man's back," grunted Mr. Rogers, with a gloomy 
 glance ahead at Dr. Beauregard. 
 
 For an instant I made sure the Doctor had over- 
 heard him. He halted suddenly, and turned to us 
 with a proprietary wave of the liand towards the 
 trees. 
 
 "A fine group, sirs, is it not? I have often 
 regretted that the cliff yonder just cuts off the view 
 of it from my windows. Indeed, I had almost altered 
 the site of the house to include it. But health before 
 everything— hey, ladies? There is always a certain 
 amount of fever in these valleys, and you will own, 
 presently, that the site I prepared has its com- 
 pensations." 
 
 He resumed his way past the trees, and — a quarter 
 of a mile beyond them — past an angle of the cliflf 
 where the ridge bent sharply back from the river 
 and revealed a narrow gorge, its entrance choked 
 with pines, running up towards the mountain. Here 
 he paused again, and with another wave of the hand. 
 
 High on the right of the gorge, on a plateau 
 above the dark pine-tops, a white-painted house 
 looked down on us —a long, low house with a generous 
 spread of shadow under its verandah and a dazzle 
 of light where the upper windows took the sun.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 WE FIND THE TREASURE 
 
 " I've a strong sense of the right of property," said 
 Miss Belcher, sipping her tea. 
 
 We had gathered in Dr. Beauregard's deep 
 verandah, at the corner where it took the late after- 
 noon sunshine. The level rays sparkled on the 
 silver and delicate Worcester china of the Doctor's 
 tea equipage, and fell through the open French 
 window into the Doctor's drawing-room. A wonder- 
 ful room it was, as everything in the house was 
 wonderful, a spacious, airy room, furnished in white 
 and gold, with Dresden figures on the mantelshelf; 
 Venetian mirrors, dainty water-colours sunk into the 
 panels, cases of rare books (among them, as I re- 
 member, a set of the Cabinet des Fees, bound in 
 rose-coloured morocco and stamped with the Royal 
 arms of France), stands of music, and a priceless 
 harpsichord inlaid with ivory. Next to the airiness 
 of the house, which stood high above reach of the 
 valley mists with their malaria, what most sharply 
 impressed me, and the ladies in particular, was its 
 exquisite cleanliness. Yet Dr. Beauregard assured 
 
 321 Y
 
 322 rOISON ISLAND 
 
 us that he kept but one servant — the negress 
 Eosa. 
 
 At her master's call she had appeared in the 
 verandah above us as we mounted the last terrace 
 towards the house, and had stood there watching 
 our ascent with no trace of surprise, or, indeed, of 
 any emotion whatever, on her black, inscrutable face. 
 Her eyes met mine as though she had never seen 
 me before. To her care Dr. Beauregard had given 
 over the still unconscious Glass, and, with a sign to 
 Mr. Rogers and Mr. Goodfellow to follow her with 
 their burden, she had led the way through the house 
 to the bedroom at the back. There, in a bed between 
 spotlessly clean sheets, they had laid the patient, and 
 been dismissed by her. It was she who, less than 
 ten minutes later, had brought our tea to us in the 
 verandah, and with our tea many little plates heaped 
 with small cakes and sweetmeats — all fresh, as though 
 she had been expecting us for hours and could com- 
 mand the resources of a city. I kept a sharp look-out, 
 but of the strange lady — the lady of the graveyard — 
 I could detect no trace. Nothing indicated her 
 presence, unless it were the dainty feminine furniture 
 of the drawing-room. 
 
 "I've a strong sense of the right of property," 
 said Miss Belcher, sij)piug her tea and touching the 
 oilskin wrapper, which lay in her lap unopened as 
 Captain Branscome had handed it to her; "and so 
 has Jack Rogers here. You tell me, sir, that you 
 hold Mortallone by grant, and doubtless you can 
 show your title."
 
 WE FIND THE TREASURE B2d 
 
 " Willingly, madam." Dr. Beauregard rose, and 
 stepped to the French window. " You can read 
 Spanish ? " he asked, turning there and pausing. 
 
 " Not a word," answered Miss Belcher. 
 
 The Doctor smiled, " It would impart nothing 
 if you could," said he, with a smile, "for I will own 
 to you frankly that Mortallone has always been under 
 suspicion of containing treasure, and in the grant all 
 treasure-trove is expressly reserved. I cannot say," 
 he added, smiling again, " that I have strictly observed 
 the clause ; but, as between you and me, it legally 
 disposes of my claim." 
 
 "Thank you," said Miss Belcher; "but I don't 
 own an equally tender conscience towards Govern- 
 ments." Here Mr. Rogers winked at me, for as a 
 patron of smugglers Miss Belcher enjoyed some 
 reputation, even for a Cornish landowner. "We 
 will leave Government out of the question ; but as 
 proprietor — lord of the manor, as we should say at 
 home —you have a right to your share ; and that, 
 by English law — which I suggest we follow — is one- 
 third." 
 
 Dr. Beauregard bowed. "I'm infinitely obliged 
 to you, ma'am, and I make no doubt that what you 
 so generously promise you will as honourably give — 
 when I claim it. In truth, I have something more 
 than enough for my needs. There was a time (I will 
 confess) when I had sold my soul, if I possessed such 
 a thing, for a glimpse of what lies written on that 
 
 parchment. But I am old ; and old age " He 
 
 broke off the sentence and did not resume it, but
 
 324 POISON ISLAND 
 
 went on presently, with a change of tone : " However, 
 I still keep a sporting interest in the treasure, Avhich 
 has baffled me all these years, the more so because 
 I have a shrewd suspicion that it has lain all the 
 while within a mile or so of where we sit at this 
 moment." 
 
 "It does, sir," said Miss Belcher, unfolding the 
 chart and pointing. 
 
 Dr. Beauregard adjusted a pair of gold-rimmed 
 eyeglasses and bent towards it. The writing was in- 
 distinct, and he put out a hand as if to take hold of 
 the edge of the parchment and steady it. The hand, 
 I noticed, did not tremble at all. 
 
 " Stay a moment, sir." Miss Belcher turned the 
 chart over. " Tlie clue is given here, upon the back. 
 Listen." And she translated : — 
 
 " •' Bight hank of river a mile and a half up 
 from Gow Creek. Centre tree in clump of Jive : 
 branch hearing north and half a point east: two 
 forks ' " 
 
 " My trees ! " exclaimed the Doctor. " You remem- 
 ber my halting and pointing them out to you ? Ah, 
 yes, and I, too, remember now that you appeared to 
 be disconcerted. You recognized them, of course ? " 
 
 " Yes, we recognized them," Miss Belcher admitted. 
 " But let me finish : — 
 
 " ' Bight fork, four feet. Red cave under hill, 
 four hundred and seventy -five yards from foot of 
 tree, N.N.W. The stones here, under rock four 
 spans, left side '
 
 WE FIND THE TREASUEE 325 
 
 — which means, I sirppose, that the cave lies some 
 way up the face of the rock, and can only be seen by 
 climbing out upon the right fork of the tree ; and that 
 the stones — that is to say, the jewels — are hidden 
 under a rock to the left ; which rock either measures 
 four spans or lies four spans within the entrance of 
 the cave." 
 
 " I know of no such cave, ma'am," said Dr. Beau- 
 regard, bending his brows. " Though, to be sure, the 
 cliff is of a reddish colour thereabouts, due to a drip 
 of water and the growth of some small fungus." 
 
 " I was a fool," said Captain Branscome, " to leave 
 the tools in the gig. If we go back to fetch them, 
 sunset will be upon us before ever we get to work." 
 
 The Doctor rose, with a smile. 
 
 " You might have guessed, sir, that I am not un- 
 provided with spades and picks, or with ropes and a 
 ladder, which also I foresee we shall need. Come ; if 
 you have drunk your tea, I will ask you to follow me 
 into the house — the ladies included — and choose your 
 outfit." 
 
 They went in after him. I was in the act of 
 following — I had, in fact, taken a couple of steps 
 towards the French window — when a slight shiver 
 seemed to run through my hair, and I stood still. 
 
 " Little boy ! " 
 
 The words came in a whisper from the end of the 
 verandah. I stole back, and, leaning well across the 
 rail, peered around the corner of the house. 
 
 " Little boy ! " whispered the voice again, and I 
 saw the little lady of the graveyard. She was
 
 326 POISON ISLAND 
 
 standing close back against the side-boarding, her body 
 almost flattened against it. " Come," she whispered, 
 beckoning with a timid glance over her shoulder 
 towards the rear of the house, 
 
 I looked at her for a second or two, and shook my 
 head. 
 
 "But you must come," she insisted, still in a 
 whisper, and took a step or two as if to entice me 
 after her. Then she halted, and, seeing that I made 
 no motion to follow, came tip-toeing back. 
 
 " If you do not come," she said, " he will kill you ! 
 He will sar-tain-ly kill you all ! " 
 
 She nodded vehemently, and so, after another 
 glance to left and right, beckoned to me once again. 
 Her face was white, almost as her muslin frock, and 
 something in it persuaded me to climb over the 
 verandah-rail and follow her. 
 
 About thirty yards from the corner of the house 
 stood a clump of odorous laurels, the scent of which 
 we had been inhaling while we sat at tea. For these 
 she broke away at a run, nor looked back until she 
 was well within their shelter and I had overtaken 
 her. 
 
 " Good boy ! " she said, nodding again and smiling 
 at me with her desperately anxious face. " I would 
 wish — I would very much wish — to kiss you. But 
 you mus' not come a-near"— she sighed— "it is not 
 healthy. Only you come with me. I dream of you, 
 sometimes, all las' night. ' What a pity ! ' I dream, 
 ' and you so pe-ritty boy ! ' Now you come with me, 
 and I take you away so he never find you."
 
 WE FIND THE TEEASUEE 327 
 
 The woman was evidently mad. 
 
 " Please tell me what you have to say," I urged, 
 " and let me go back. They will be missing me in a 
 minute or so." 
 
 " If they miss you, it is no matter now. He will 
 kill them all, he is so strong ... as he killed all 
 those others . . . you remember ? See, now, pe-ritty 
 boy, what I have done for you, to save you from him ! 
 He shut me up, in his other house — he has another 
 house away up in the woods, beyond where we met." 
 She waved a hand towards the hills. " But I break 
 out, and come here to save you. He would kill me 
 also, if he knew." 
 
 Mad though I believed her, I was growing pretty 
 thoroughly frightened, remembering the graveyard 
 under the trees. 
 
 " You forget my friends," said I, speaking very 
 simply, as to a child. " If he means to kill them, I 
 ought to carry them warning," 
 
 " He will not kill them till to-night," she answered, 
 shaking her head. " It is always at night-time, when 
 they are at supper. There is no hurry, little boy • 
 but he will sar-tain-ly kill them, all the same." 
 
 I turned my head, preparing to run, for I heard 
 Captain Branscome's voice in the verandah, calling 
 my name. 
 
 " They are starting after the treasure. I must go," 
 I stammered. 
 
 She drew close, and laid a hand on my arm. Again 
 a dreadful odour was wafted under my nostrils — an 
 odour as of tuberoses, and I know not what of
 
 328 POISON ISLAND 
 
 corruption— and, as before in the graveyard, it turned 
 me both sick and giddy. 
 
 " They will not find it," she said, nodding with an 
 air of childish triumph. " Shall I tell you why ? I 
 have hidden it ! " Here she fell back on her old 
 litany. " He would kill me if he knew ... I hid it 
 — oh, years ago ! But come, and I will show you ; 
 and you shall take a great deal— yes, as much as you 
 can carry — if only you will go away, and never be 
 rash again." 
 
 A second time I heard Captain Branscome's voice 
 calling to me, demanding to know where I had dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 She put a finger to her lips, smiling. "Such 
 treasure you never did see. . . . Even Rosa does not 
 know . . . Come, little boy ! " 
 
 She pushed her way through the laurels, and I 
 followed her. The edge of the shrubbery overhung 
 the dry bed of a torrent, in the cleft of which, when 
 we had lowered ourselves over the edge, we were com- 
 pletely hidden from the house. From the edge a 
 slope of loose stones ran down to the bottom of the 
 cleft, where a thin stream of water trickled. The 
 stones slid with me, but not dangerously ; and as we 
 scurried down — I in my thick boots, she in her diminu- 
 tive dancing- shoes — I heard Plinny's voice join with 
 Captain Branscome's in calling my name. But by 
 this time I was committed to the adventure, and by- 
 and-by they desisted, supposing (as Plinny told me 
 later) that I had taken French leave again, and run 
 off to be first at the clump of trees.
 
 WE FIND THE TKEASURE 329 
 
 We might not climb the slope directly in face of 
 us ; for, by so doing (even if it had been accessible, 
 which I doubt), we should have emerged into view. 
 We therefore bent our way to the right up the bottom 
 of the gorge, to a narrow tongue of rock dividing it, 
 in the shelter of which we mounted the rough stairway 
 of the torrent bed from one flat rock to another until 
 we stepped out upon a shallow plateau where the 
 contour of the hills shut off the house and its terraces. 
 We stood, as I judged, upon the reverse or northern 
 side of that ridge which to the south and west over- 
 looked the valley of the treasure. Above the plateau 
 a stone-strewn scarp of earth led to the forest, which 
 reached to the very summit of the ridge ; and towards 
 the summit, after pausing for a second or two to pant 
 and catch her breath, my strange guide continued 
 her climb. 
 
 " What is your name, little boy ? " 
 
 I told her, and she repeated it once or twice, to get 
 it by heart. 
 
 " You may call me 'Metta," she said. " He calls 
 me 'Metta always, when he is pleased with me, and 
 that is almost every day. He is kind to me ; oh yes, 
 very kind — though terrible of course. . . . Keep on 
 my left hand, Harry Brooks ; so the breeze here will 
 not blow from me to you." 
 
 I drew up in a kind of giddiness, for that dread- 
 ful scent of death had touched me again. She, too, 
 halted with a little cry of dismay, and a feeble motion 
 of the hands, as if to wring them. 
 
 " Ah, you must keep wide of me. . . . That is my
 
 330 POISON ISLAND 
 
 suffering, Harry Brooks. I cannot bend over a flower but 
 it withers, and the butterflies die if they come near my 
 breath . . . and that, too, is his doing. He would be 
 kind to me, he said, and would een-oculate me; yes, 
 that is his word —een-oculate me, so that no poison 
 could ever harm me. He knows the secrets of all the 
 plants, and why peo23le die of disease. Months at a 
 time he used to leave me alone with Eosa, and go to 
 Havana, to the hospitals ; and there he would study till 
 his body was wasted away with work ; but at the end he 
 would come back, bringing visitors. Oh, many visitors ! 
 for he was rich, and the house had room for all. There 
 were singers — he loves music — and men who played all 
 day at cards, and women who made me jealous. But 
 he would only laugh and say, ' Wait, little one.' So 
 I waited, and in the end they all died. Kosa said it 
 was the yellow fever; but no." She held up both 
 hands, and made pretence to pour something from an 
 imaginary bottle into an imaginary glass. " He can 
 kill with one tiny drop. In his study he keeps a 
 machine which makes water into ice. Eosa would 
 carry round the ice with little glasses of curapoa, 
 after the coffee was served ; and all would say : ' What 
 wonders are these ? Ice in Mortallone ! ' and would 
 drink his health. But he never touched the ice. You 
 tell that to your friends, little boy. But it will not 
 save them : for he will find some other way." 
 
 As we went up the woods these awful confidences 
 poured from her like childish prattle, interrupted only 
 by little ripples of laughter, half shy, half silly, and 
 altogether horrible to hear. I hung back, divided
 
 WE FIND THE TEEASURE 331 
 
 between the impulse to tear myself away and the fear- 
 ful fascination of listening — between the urgent need 
 to find and warn my friends, and the forlorn hope to 
 extract from her something that might save them. 
 The toil of the climb had bathed me in sweat, and yet 
 I shivered. 
 
 I halted. We were close under the summit of the 
 ridge, and had reached a passing clearing where, 
 between the trees, as I turned about, I could see the 
 whole gorge in shadow at my feet, the sunlight warm 
 on its upper eastern slopes, and beyond these the sea. 
 In half an hour — in twenty minutes, maybe — I might 
 reach the valley there below, and at least cry my 
 warning. I faced round again to my companion. 
 
 She had vanished. 
 
 My mouth grew dry of a sudden. Was she a 
 ghost ? And her prattling talk — the voice yet 
 singing in my brain — 
 
 " Little boy ! Little boy ! " 
 
 I parted the tall ferns. Beyond them a small hand 
 beckoned, and, following it, I came face to face with 
 a wall of naked rock from which she lifted aside the 
 creepers over a deep cleft — a cleft wide enough to 
 admit a man's body if he turned sideways and stooped 
 a little. 
 
 She clapped her hands at my astonishment. " You 
 like my bower ? " she asked gleefully. " Ah, but wait, 
 and I will show you wonders ! No one knows of it, 
 not even Kosa." 
 
 She wriggled her way through the cleft. I peered 
 in, and went after her cautiously, expecting, as the
 
 332 POISON ISLAND 
 
 curtain of creepers fell behind me, to find myself in 
 a dark cave or grotto. Dark it was, to be sure, but 
 not utterly dark ; and to my amazement, as my eyes 
 grew accustomed to the gloom, the faint light came 
 from ahead of me and seemed to strike upwards from 
 the bowels of the earth. 
 
 " Do not be afraid, little boy ! But hold your 
 head low ; and look to your feet now, for it is steep 
 hereabouts." 
 
 Steep indeed it was. A kind of shaft, floored 
 for the most part with slippery earth, but here and 
 there with an irregular stairway of rock ; and still at 
 the lower end of the tunnel shone a faint light. I 
 would have given worlds by this time to retrace my 
 steps. A slight draught, blowing up the tunnel from 
 my companion to me, bore the odour of death upwards 
 under my nostrils ; but this, while it dizzied and 
 sickened me, seemed to clog my feet and take away 
 all will to escape. I had nearly swooned, indeed, 
 when my feet encountered level earth again, and she 
 put out a hand to steady me. 
 
 " Is— is— this the end ! " 
 
 " It goes down — down, little boy ; but we need not 
 follow it. See, there is light, to the left of you ; light, 
 and fresh air, and my pretty bower." 
 
 I turned as her hand guided me. A puff of wind 
 blew on my cheek, cold and infinitely pure. I stood 
 blinking in a short gallery that ended suddenly in 
 blue sky, and, staggering forward, I cast myself down 
 on the brink. 
 
 It was as though I lay on the sill of a great open
 
 WE FIND THE TREASURE 333 
 
 window. Below me — far below — waved great masses 
 of forest, and beyond these — far beyond — shone the 
 blue sea. I cannot say to what depth the cliff fell 
 away below me. It was more than sheer — it was 
 undercut. I lay as one suspended over the void. 
 
 " But see, pe-ritty boy ! did I not promise you 
 wonders ? " 
 
 As I faced around to the darkness of the gallery, 
 she held aloft something which, for the moment, I 
 mistook for a great green snake with lines of fire 
 running from scale to scale and sparkling as she 
 waved it before me. I rolled over upon my elbow and 
 stared. It was a rope of emeralds. 
 
 She flung an end over one shoulder and looped it 
 low over her breast ; then, passing the other end about 
 her neck, she brought it forward over the same 
 shoulder and let it dangle. It reached almost to 
 her feet. 
 
 " Does it become me, little boy ? " She made me a 
 mock curtsey that set thd gems dancing with fire. 
 " Come and choose, then ! " She put out both hands 
 to the darkness by the wall, and a whole cascade of 
 jewels came sliding down and poured themselves with 
 a rush about her feet and across the floor of the 
 gallery. She laughed and thrust her hands again 
 into the heap. 
 
 " All these I found — I myself — and carried up here 
 from the darkness. Take what you will, little boy, and 
 run back to your ship. Is it diamonds you will choose, 
 or rubies, or— see here — this chain of pearls? I do 
 not like pearls, for my part : they mean sorrow. But
 
 334 POISON ISLAND 
 
 — see here, again ! — there were boxes and boxes, all 
 heaped to the brim, and long robes sewn all over with 
 pearls. Take what you like — he will not know. He 
 gives me diamonds sometimes. I adored them in the 
 old days, in opera. And he remembers and gives 
 me a stone from time to time, to keep me amused. I 
 laugh to myself, then, when I think of the store I keep, 
 here in my bower. And he so clever ! But he does 
 not guess. Ah, child, if I had had but these to wear, 
 when I used to sing Eurydice ! " 
 
 She held out two handfuls of diamonds, and began 
 to sing in a high, cracked voice, while she let them 
 rain through her fingers. 
 
 " But listen ! " I cried suddenly. 
 
 She ceased at once, and stood with her face half 
 turned to the darkness behind her, her arms rigid at 
 her sides, the gems dropping as her hand slowly un- 
 clasped them. Below, where the tunnel ran down 
 into darkness, a voice hailed — 
 
 " 'Metta ! Is that 'Metta ? " 
 
 It was the voice of Dr. Beauregard. The poor 
 creature gazed at me helplessly and ran for the stair- 
 way. But her feet sank in the loose heap of jewels ; 
 she stumbled ; and, as she picked herself up, I saw 
 that she was too late ; for already a light shone up 
 from the tunnel below, and before she could gain the 
 exit the Doctor stood there, lifting a torch, in the 
 light of which I saw Mr. Rogers close behind his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " 'Metta ! " 
 
 I do not think he would have hurt her. But as
 
 WE FIND THE TREASURE 335 
 
 the torch flared in her face and lit up the shining 
 heap of jewels, she threw up both hands and doubled 
 back, screaming. I believed that she called to me to 
 hide. I put out a hand to catch her by the skirt, 
 seeing that she ran madly ; but the thin muslin tore 
 in my clutch. 
 
 '"Metta!" 
 
 On the ledge, against the sky, the voice seemed 
 to overtake and steady her for a second ; but too late. 
 With a choking cry, she put out both hands against 
 the void, and toppled forward ; and in the entrance 
 was nothing but the blue, empty sky.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 DOCTOR BEAUREGARD 
 
 " Glass ? My dear madam, pardon my remissness : 
 he is dead. Eosa brought me the news before we sat 
 down to table." 
 
 I opened my eyes. In the words, as I came back 
 to consciousness, I found nothing remarkable, nor for 
 a few seconds did it surprise me that the dark gallery 
 had changed into a panelled, lighted room, with 
 candles shining on a long, white table, and on flowers 
 and crystal decanters, and dishes heaped with fruit. 
 The candles were shaded, and from the sofa where I 
 lay I saw across the cloth the faces of Miss Belcher 
 and Captain Branscome intent on the Doctor. He was 
 leaning forward from the head of the table and 
 speaking to Plinny, who sat with her back to me, 
 darkly silhouetted against the light. Mr. Rogers, on 
 Plinny's left, had turned his chair sideways and was 
 listening too ; and at the lower end of the board a tall 
 epergne of silver partially hid the form of Mr. Good- 
 fellow. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, I ought to have told you," went on 
 336
 
 DOCTOR BEAUREGARD 337 
 
 the Doctor's voice. " But really no recovery could be 
 expected. The man's heart was utterly diseased." 
 
 His gaze, travelling past Plinny, wandered as if 
 casually towards me, where I lay in the penumbra. I 
 felt it coming, and closed my eyes ; and on the instant 
 my brain cleared. 
 
 Yes ; G-lass was dead, of course, poisoned by this 
 man as ruthlessly as these my friends would be 
 poisoned if I cried out no warning. ... Or perhaps it 
 had happened already. 
 
 I opened my eyes again, cautiously, little by little. 
 The Doctor was filling Plinny's glass. Having filled 
 it, he pushed the decanters towards Mr. Rogers, and 
 turned to say a word to Miss Belcher, on his right. 
 No ; there was time. It had not happened — yet. 
 
 I wanted to start up and scream aloud. But some 
 power, stronger than my will, held me down against 
 the sofa-cushion. I had lost all grip of myself — of my 
 voice and of my limbs alike. I could neither stir nor 
 speak, but lay watching with half-closed eyes, while 
 the room swam and in my ears I heard a thin voice 
 buzzing : " Tell your friends — the ice — he never 
 touches the ice. But it will not save them. He ^11 
 find some other way." 
 
 The door opened, and its opening broke the spell. 
 On the threshold stood the tall negress with a tray of 
 coffee-cups, and on the tray a salver with a number of 
 little glasses and a glass bowl — a bowl of ice. Her 
 master pushed back the decanters to make room for 
 the tray before him. She set it down, and the little 
 glasses jingled softly. 
 
 z
 
 338 POISON ISLAND 
 
 " Upon my word, sir," said Miss Belcher, " what 
 wonder upon wonders is this ? Ice ? And in Mor- 
 tallone ? " 
 
 " It is Rosa's little surprise, madame, and she will 
 be gratified by your " 
 
 He pushed back his chair and, leaving the sentence 
 unfinished, rose swiftly and came to me as I staggered 
 up from the sofa. A cry worked in my throat, but 
 before I could utter it his two hands were on my 
 shoulders, and he had appealed to the company with 
 a triumphant little laugh. 
 
 " Did I not tell you the child would come to him- 
 self all right ? A simple sedative — after the fright he 
 had. He's trembling now, poor boy. No, ma'am " — 
 he turned to Plinny, who had risen, and was coming 
 forward solicitously ; " let him sit upright for a 
 moment, while he comes to his bearings. Or, better 
 still, when you have finished your coffee — if Miss 
 Belcher will be kind enough to pour it for me— we 
 will take him out into the fresh air. Yes, yes, and the 
 sooner the better, for I see that Mr. Rogers is fidgeting 
 to be out and assure himself that the treasure has not 
 taken wings." 
 
 He forced me gently back to my seat, and walked 
 to the table. 
 
 " What were we saying ? Ah, yes — to be sure — 
 about the ice." He lifted his coffee-cup with a steady 
 hand, and, his eyes travelling over it, fixed themselves 
 on me, as though to make sure I was recovering. 
 " The ice is a surprise of Rosa's, and I assure you she 
 is proud of it. But (you may go Rosa) I advise you
 
 DOCTOR BEAUREGARD 339 
 
 to content yourselves with wondering ; for the water 
 on these hills, strange to say, is not healthy." 
 
 They voted the Doctor's advice to be good, and, 
 having finished tbeir coffee, wandered out into the 
 fresh air. Plinny took my arm, and, leading me to 
 the verandah, found me a comfortable seat, where 
 I could recline and compose myself, for I was 
 trembling yet. 
 
 " They have stacked the treasure there beyond the 
 last window," Plinny informed me, nodding towards 
 the end of the verandah, where Captain Branscome, 
 Mr. Rogers, and Mr. Goodfellow were already gathered 
 and busy in conversation. " In bulk it is less than we 
 expected, but in value (the Doctor says) it goes beyond 
 everything. Three hundredweight, they say, and in 
 pure gems ! He is to choose his share, by-and-by ; and 
 then we have to contrive how to take it down to the 
 ship." 
 
 " Miss Plinlimmon," said the Captain, coming 
 towards us, " you promised me a word yesterday. I 
 should wish to claim it now — that is, if Harry can 
 spare you." 
 
 I observed that his voice shook a little, but this 
 I set down to excitement. 
 
 "Did I? Yes, I remember." 
 
 Miss Plinlimmon's voice, too, was tremulous. She 
 hesitated, and her eyes in the dim light seemed to 
 seek mine. 
 
 I assured her that I was recovering fast, here in 
 the fresh air, and that it would be a kindness, indeed, 
 to leave me alone. She bent quickly and kissed me.
 
 340 POISON ISLAND 
 
 I wondered why, as she stepped past the Captain and 
 he followed her down the verandah steps. 
 
 I wished to be left alone. I was puzzled, and what 
 puzzled me was that neither Miss Belcher nor Dr. 
 Beaui-egard had left the dining-room. In fact, as I 
 passed out through the window, happening to turn my 
 head, I had caught sight of his face, and it had 
 signalled to her to stay. I knew not why he should 
 intend harm to Miss Belcher rather than to any other 
 of our party. But I distrusted the man ; and Plinny 
 had scarcely left me before, having made sure that 
 Mr. Eogers and Mr. Goodfellow were within easy call, 
 I rose up softly, crept to the dining-room window, and, 
 dropping upon hands and knees close by the wall, 
 peered into the room. 
 
 The Doctor and Miss Belcher had reseated them- 
 selves. He had poured himself out another glass of 
 wine and was holding it up to the light with a steady 
 hand, while she watched him, her elbows on the table 
 and her firm jaw resting on her clasped fingers. Her 
 face, though it showed no sign of fear, was pallid. 
 
 " Yes," he was saying slowly ; " it is too late at 
 this hour to be discussing what the priests would call 
 the sin of it. You would never convince me ; and if 
 you convinced me, I am too old — and too weary — for 
 what the priests call repentance. I am Martin — the 
 same man that outwitted Melhuish and his crew — the 
 same that played Harry with this Glass, and the man 
 Coffin, and a drunken old ruffian they brought with 
 them from Whydah ! The fools ! to think to frighten 
 me, that had started by laying out a whole ship's
 
 DOCTOR BEAUREGARD 341 
 
 crew ! And now you come along ; and I hold you all 
 in the hollow of my palm. But I open my hand — so 
 — and let you go." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Why ? I have told you. I am tired." 
 
 " That is not all the truth," answered Miss Belcher, 
 eyeing him steadily. 
 
 " No ; it is not all the truth. No one tells all the 
 truth in this world. But I am glad you challenge 
 me, for you shall have a little more of the truth. I 
 let you go because you were simpletons, and I had 
 not dealt with simpletons before." 
 
 " Is that the truth ? " she persisted. 
 
 He laughed and sipped his wine. 
 
 " No ; I let you go because I saw in you— I who 
 have killed many for wealth and more for the mere 
 pleasure of power — something which told me that, 
 after all, I had missed the secret. From an outcast 
 child in Havana I had made myself the sole king of 
 this treasure of Mortallone. I went back and made 
 slaves of men and women who had tossed that child their 
 coppers in contemptuous pity. I brought them here, 
 to Mortallone, to play with them ; and as soon as they 
 tired me, they — went. It was power I wanted ; power 
 I achieved ; and in power, as I thought, lay the secret. 
 The fools in this world say that a poisoner is always a 
 coward : it is one of the phrases with which fools 
 cheat themselves. For long I was sure of myself; 
 and then, when the thought began to haunt me that, 
 after all, I had missed the secret, I sought out the 
 man who, in Europe, had made himself more powerful
 
 342 POISON ISLAND 
 
 than kings ; and I found that he had missed the secret 
 too. Then I guessed that the secret is beyond a 
 man's power to achieve, unless it be innate in him ; 
 that the gods themselves cannot help a man born in 
 bastardy, as I was, or born with a vulgar soul, as was 
 Napoleon. One chance of redemption he has — to 
 mate with a woman who has, and has known from 
 birth, the secret which he has missed. I guessed it — 
 I that had wasted my days with singing -women, such 
 as poor 'Metta ! Then I met you, and I knew. Yes, 
 madam, you — you, whose life to-night I had almost 
 taken with a touch —taught me that I had left women 
 out of account. Ah, madam, if the world were twenty 
 years younger ! . . . Will you do me the honour to 
 touch glasses and drink with me ? " 
 
 " Not on any account," said Miss Belcher, rising. 
 " Not to put too fine a point upon it, you make me 
 feel thoroughly sick ; but " — she hesitated on the 
 threshold of the window — " the worst of it is, I think 
 I understand you a little." 
 
 I drew back into the shadow. Her stiff skirt 
 almost struck me in the cheek as she passed, and, 
 crossing the verandah, leant with both hands on the 
 rail, while her face went up to the sky and the newly 
 risen moon. 
 
 A voice spoke to her from the moonlit terrace below. 
 
 " Hallo ! " she answered. " Is that Captain 
 Branscome ? " 
 
 " It is, ma'am : and Miss Plinlimmon — Amelia — 
 as she allows me to call her." 
 
 Miss Belcher cut him short with a laugh. It rang
 
 DOCTOR BEAUREGARD 343 
 
 out frank and free enough, and only I, crouching by 
 the wall, understood the hysterical springs of it. 
 
 " You two geese ! " she exclaimed, and ran down 
 the steps to them. 
 
 * * * * » 
 
 " Was that Lydia ? " demanded Mr. Kogers, a 
 moment later, as he came along the verandah. 
 
 " It was," I answered. 
 
 " I don't understand these people," grumbled Mr. 
 Rogers, pausing and scratching his head. "There 
 was to have been a meeting outside here, directly 
 after supper, to divide off Doctor Beauregard's share ; 
 but confound it if every one don't seem to be play- 
 ing hide-and-seek ! Where's the Doctor ? " 
 
 " In the dining-room ! " said I, nodding towards 
 the window. . . . 
 
 He stepped towards it. At that moment I heard a 
 dull thud within the room, and Mr. Rogers, his foot 
 already on the threshold, drew back with a cry. I 
 ran to his elbow. 
 
 On the floor, stretched at her master's feet, lay the 
 negress Rosa. Dr. Beauregard stood by the corner of 
 the table, and poured himself a small glassful of 
 curafoa. While we gazed at him he reached out a hand 
 to the icebowl, selected a small piece, and dropped it 
 delicately into the glass. I heard it tingle against 
 the rim. 
 
 " Your good health, sirs ! " said Dr. Beauregard. 
 
 He sat back rigid in his chair. 
 
 THE END
 
 PRINTED BT 
 
 WII-LIAir CLOWES AND BONS, LIMITED, 
 
 LONDON AND BECCLKS.
 
 ?R 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW. 
 
 20m-6,'62(C9211s4)476
 
 3 1205 02089 4927 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A A 001 423 324 1