Annie o' the Banks o' Dee Part 24

"Ay, Jack, she will; but I ain't in any particular hurry to go yet, you know."

"Well, it's two years come Monday since we sailed away from the beautiful Clyde. Heigho! I shouldn't wonder if Polly has given me up for good and all, and married some counter-jumping land-lubber of a draper or grocer."

"Never mind, Jack; there's as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it yet. Pa.s.s the rum. This is Sat.u.r.day night, and it was just real good of Captain d.i.c.kson to send us an extra drop of the rosy. Fill your gla.s.ses, gentlemen, for a toast and a song. That digging has made me a mighty deal too tired to think of dancing to the sweetest jig e'er a fiddler could sc.r.a.pe out."

"Well, give us your toast, Bill. We're all primed and waiting."

"My toast ain't a very short one, but here it goes: 'May the next year be our very last in this 'ere blessed island; may we all go home with bags of gold, and find our sweethearts true and faithful.'"

"Hear, hear!" And every gla.s.s was drained to the bottom. "Now for the song."

"Oh, only an old ditty o' Dibdin's, and I'd rather be on the heavin'

ocean when I sings it. There is no accompaniment to a song so fetching as that which the boom and the wash of the waves make. Them's my sentiments, boys.

"Wives and Sweethearts.

"'Tis said we ve't'rous diehards, when we leave the sh.o.r.e, Our friends should mourn, Lest we return To bless their sight no more; But this is all a notion Bold Jack can't understand, Some die upon the ocean, And some die on the land.

Then since 'tis clear, Howe'er we steer, No man's life's under his command; Let tempests howl And billows roll, And dangers press; In spite of these there are some joys Us jolly tars to bless, For Sat.u.r.day night still comes, my boys, To drink to Poll and Bess.

"Hurrah!" But just at this moment a strange and ominous sound, like distant thunder, put a sudden stop to the sailors' Sat.u.r.day night. All started to their feet to listen.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

"OH, AWFUL! WHAT CAN IT BE?" CRIED REGINALD.

I do not hesitate to say that the possession of unprotected wealth maketh cowards of most people. The anxiety connected therewith may keep one awake at night, and bring on a state of nervousness that shall end in a break-up of the general health. But no thought of ever losing the precious nuggets and pearls that had cost him so much hard work came into the mind of Reginald Grahame, until an event took place which proved that gold may tempt even those we trust the most.

Harry Jenkins was a bright little sailor, the pet of his mess. He was always singing when at work in the diggings, and he generally managed to keep his comrades in excellent humour, and laughing all the time. In their messroom of an evening they were all frank and free, and hid nothing one from the other. For each believed in his pal's honesty.

"I have a thousand pounds' worth of nuggets at least!" said Harry one evening.

"And I," said Bill Johnson, "have half as much again."

They showed each other their gold, comparing nuggets, their very eyes glittering with joy as they thought of how happy they should be when they returned once more to their own country. Then they each stowed away their wealth of nuggets and pearls, placed in tiny canvas bags inside their small sea-chests.

This was about a week after that pleasant Sat.u.r.day night which was so suddenly broken up by the muttering of subterranean thunder and the trembling of the earth.

But earthquakes were frequent in the island, though as yet not severe.

The Queen was by no means alarmed, but Ilda was--terribly so.

"Oh," she cried, "I wish I were away and away from this terrible island!"

The Queen comforted her all she could.

"I have a presentiment," replied the poor girl, "that this is not the last nor the worst."

But when days and days pa.s.sed away, and there were no more signs of earth-tremor, she regained courage, and was once more the same happy girl she had been before.

Then the occurrence took place that made Reginald suspicious of the honesty of some of those British sailors.

One morning Harry was missing. They sought him high, they sought him low, but all in vain. Then it occurred to Johnson to look into his box.

The box, with all his gold and pearls, was gone!

Harry's box had been left open, and it was found to be empty. No one else had lost anything. However, this was a clue, and the officers set themselves to unravel the mystery at once. Nor was it long before they did so. Not only was one of the largest canoes missing, with a sail that had been rigged on her, but two of the strongest natives and best boatmen.

It was sadly evident that Harry was a thief, and that he had bribed these two savages to set out to sea with him.

There was a favouring breeze for the west, and Harry no doubt hoped that, after probably a week's sailing, he would reach some of the more civilised of the Polynesian islands, and find his way in a s.h.i.+p back to Britain. Whether he did so may never be known, but the fact that the breeze increased to over half a gale about three days after he had fled, makes it rather more than probable that the big canoe was swamped, and that she foundered, going down with the crew and the ill-gotten gold as well. Only a proof that the wicked do not always prosper in this world.

Poor Johnson's grief was sad to witness.

"On my little store," he told his messmates, wringing his hands, and with the tears flowing over his cheeks, "I placed all my future happiness. I care not now what happens. One thing alone I know: life to me has no more charms, and I can never face poor Mary again."

He went to the diggings again in a halfhearted kind of way, and for a day or two was fairly successful; but it was evident that his heart was almost broken, and that if something were not done he might some evening throw himself over a cliff, and so end a life that had become distasteful to him.

So one morning Reginald had an interview with his messmates.

"I myself," he said, "must have already collected over twenty thousand pounds in nuggets and pearls, and will willingly give of this my store five hundred pounds worth of gold by weight, if you, Captain d.i.c.kson, and you, Hall, will do the same. Thus shall we restore reason and happiness to a fellow-creature, and one of the best-hearted sailors that ever lived and sailed the salt, salt seas."

Both d.i.c.kson and Hall must need shake hands with Reginald, and, while the tears stood in his eyes, the former said:

"That will we, my dear boy, and G.o.d will bless your riches, and restore you all your desires whenever we reach our British sh.o.r.es again."

And so that very night there was no more happy man than Johnson.

Another Sat.u.r.day night in the men's mess. d.i.c.kson willingly spliced the main-brace twice over, and the night pa.s.sed pleasantly on with yarn and song till midnight. But the thief Harry was never mentioned. It was better thus. Already, perhaps, the man had met his doom, and so they forgave him. Yet somehow this incident rankled in Reginald's bosom, and made him very uneasy.

"I say," he said to d.i.c.kson one day, "I confess that the flight of Harry Jenkins with poor Johnson's gold has made me suspicious."

"And me so as well," said d.i.c.kson.

"I mean," said Reginald, "to bury my treasure, and I have already selected a spot."

"You have? Then I shall bury mine near yours. I have ever liked you, doctor, since first we met, and we have been as brothers."

They shook hands.

Appealed to, Mr Hall said straight:

"I am a wealthy man, and, if ever I reach America, I shall have more than I can spend. I shall leave mine in the box where it is. I admit,"

he added, "that if there be one thief among six men, there may be two, and gold is a great temptation. But I'll go with you at the dead of night, and help to carry, and help you to bury your treasure."

They thanked him heartily, and accepted his kindly a.s.sistance.

The spot at which Reginald had chosen to hide his gold and treasure was called Lone Tree Hill. It was on a bare, bluff mountain side. Here stood one huge eucalyptus tree, that might have been used as a landmark for s.h.i.+ps at sea had it been in the track of vessels. But this island, as I have already said, was not so.