The Island of Gold E-Book

Fenton Ash

• Herausgeber: Ktoczyta.pl
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Fenton Ash (pseudonym for Francis Henry Atkins) also known as Fred Ashley, Frank Aubrey (1840 – 1927), wrote a number of „scientific romances” beginning with „The Devil Tree” (1896). He was involved in a scandal at the turn of the century and sentenced to nine months imprisonment for obtaining money by deception. After leaving prison he dropped the name Frank Aubrey and – in his early 60s, following a three-year hiatus – began writing as Fenton Ash. „The Island Of Gold” (1918) is a fantasy adventure would suit anyone interested in old fantasy novels for children and young people. Wonderful entertainment and highly entertaining. If you haven’t discovered the joys of Fenton Ash’s adventures there is a good place to start. Highly recommended!

Leseprobe

Contents

I. THE OLD SAILOR'S YARN—"A LAND OF GOLD!"

II. THE MYSTERIOUS ISLAND.

III. IN TROUBLE.

IV. MORE TROUBLE!

V. THE STONES OF GOLD.

VI. A TERRIBLE JOURNEY.

VII. A SURPRISE.

VIII. A DEMON IN HUMAN FORM.

IX. BESIEGED BY FILIBUSTERS.

X. PEDRO DIEGO'S FIRST APPEARANCE.

XI. VICTORY!

XII. IN DIRE PERIL!

XIII. TO THE RESCUE!

XIV. PEDRO DIEGO—FILIBUSTER.

XXV. GRUESOME FOES.

XVI. A DESPERATE FIGHT.

XVII. TRAPPED!

XVIII. SEALED UP!

XIX. "IN CASE OF TROUBLE."

XX. BURIED ALIVE!

XXI. AN UNDERGROUND LABYRINTH.

XXII. THE GOLD WATER AGAIN!

XXIII. THE FIGHT!

XXIV. THE END OF THE FIGHT.

XXV. A LUCKY TUMBLE.

XXVI. ON THE TRACK.

XXVII. THE GOLDEN TEMPLE.

XXVIII. GOLD-GATHERING!

XXIX. CONCLUSION.

I. THE OLD SAILOR’S YARN–“A LAND OF GOLD!”

“THIS be a funny idea, Mr. Alec, as I bin readin’ about in the paper–gettin’ gold from sea-water. It ‘minds me of a queer thing as happened t’ me once in the Southern Seas, when I rescued a pore mad chap from a lonely island.”

“Does it, Ben? I must hear that yarn. Fill up your pipe and start straightaway. I’ve got an hour to spare this morning.”

Ben Grove, retired mariner, ex-bo’sun, shook his head deprecatingly; while his companion, Alec Mackay, a bright, good-looking young fellow of eighteen or nineteen, waited patiently for what was to come.

“No, sir; theer bain’t no yarn, exactly. The pore chap thought he’d found a reg’lar folderado–”

“Eh?” queried Alec, looking puzzled. “Oh, ah! H’m! Eldorado, I suppose?”

“Yes, sir; that’s it. Means a land of gold, don’t it?”

“Yes, yes! Something of the sort. That’s near enough, anyway! Steam ahead, Ben!”

“Well, this pore chap thought he’d found a reg’lar land of gold. It came about in this way. I wur actin’ mate at the time on a small schooner as had been doin’ some tradin’ among the South Seas Islands, an’ we passed an island as nobody seemed t’ know much about ‘cept that it wur believed t’ be uninhabited, an’ theer wur a volcani in the middle of it. The volcani wur there, anyhow, ‘cos we could see the smoke. But when we seed a man on the shore, we was puzzled, ‘cos we didn’t expect t’ see anybody, an’ when we seed him makin’ frantic signs to us, we wondered what was up.

“‘Better go ashore to him an’ see what he wants,’ our skipper said. ‘He may ‘a’ bin shipwrecked, an’ be theer alone; an’, if so, we can’t go away an’ leave him to his fate.’

“‘Ay, ay, sir,’ I says; an’ they got out a boat, an’ off I goes ashore to the chap.

“Soon as I landed, he takes me aside an’ asks me if I’d like t’ be a millinairy, an’ have a kerridge an’ pair, with servants in livery, an’ all that silly nonsense. ‘Cos, he said, if I would, all I had t’ do would be to go to a place on the island he had found out, wheer theer was lots o’ gold t’ be had fur the pickin’ of it up.

“He said he’d been shipwrecked, as the cap’n had thought, an’ he’d bin theer all by hisself, a-livin’ on shellfish an’ fruits, an’ sich-like; an’ I thought as his troubles had turned his brain an’ made him fancy things. He looked so wild an’ talked so excited that I told him, at last, I’d have to go aboard an’ tell the skipper about it. And if the skipper believed it all, p’r’aps he’d come back later on.

“Then the strange johnny grew frightened o’ bein’ left on the island alone agen, so he said he’d come along, an’ I took him back t’ the schooner. But the cap’n, he said he’d got no time t’ go foolin’ around treasure-huntin’. So we sailed away, taking the stranger with us.

“At first he wur very upset at havin’ to go away an’ leave his treasure island, but after a while he settled down a bit, an’ he seemed t’ take a great fancy t’ me. He wanted me t’ join him, to promise to go back with him to the island later on. He even give me a paper with a sort o’ map on it, showin’ wheer the gold was t’ be found, an’ offered me half shares if I’d go an’ help him bring the gold away. An’, to prove his story, he showed me a bag with a lot o’ what looked like lumps o’ gold in it.”

At this point, Alec suddenly became intensely interested. At first he had listened without much concern, thinking, perhaps, that this was only one more yarn of the kind of which most sailor-men are generally supposed to have a practically inexhaustible stock. But the mention of a bagful of lumps of gold was a different matter. It began to look like business!

“Lumps of gold!” he exclaimed. “Are you serious, Ben? How is it I’ve never heard this tale before?”

“Ye’ll hear d’reckly, Mr. Alec. I looks at the lumps, an’ an idea comes into me head. I takes a hammer an’ bangs one, an’ it flew t’ pieces! Twarn’t no lump o’ gold at all! Twor only a pebble caked over wi’ some bright-lookin’ stuff. We tried other lumps, but they was all the same.

“Then the pore chap went clean off his nut wi’ the dis’pintment. He chucked his lumps o’ gold overboard–all but a few which I kep’ fur cur’osity’s sake–an’ he took to his bunk an’ died, two days after, ravin’ mad. An’ that’s all, sir. Ye see, ‘tain’t much of a yarn, after all.”

“Poor chap! One can sympathize, in a sense, with his disappointment,” commented Alec thoughtfully. “It’s a curious story, so far as it goes. But what has it to do with the extraction of gold from sea-water?”

“Not much, I s’pose,” Ben admitted, “‘cept as I reckoned them pebbles were coated over that way by water running over ‘em. The chap as found ‘em said something of the sort, too.”

“H’m! I see what you mean, Ben. And perhaps you’re not far out. I know there are what they call petrifying wells in some places. In Derbyshire they make show places of them. There you can see all kinds of articles of various materials which have become covered with a coating of lime through the water of the petrifying well being allowed to drip upon them. You may even see birds’ nests so treated.

“But what you speak of is stranger still. It reminds me of a fairy-tale my nurse used to tell me when I was a child about a ‘gold-water’ which turned everything it touched to gold. In the end, the lucky–or unlucky–finder of the wonderful water splashed it on his fingers, and turned them into gold!

“But you said that you kept some of those curious pebbles. What became of them? I suppose you have not got them now, by any chance?”

“Why, yes, sir. I have got ‘em right enough! They be locked away in a old sea-chest o’ mine. You bide here a bit. I dessay I can hunt ‘em out.”

Ben went off, and presently returned, bringing with him three or four pebbles and some small shells and other articles of different shapes. They were all covered with a metallic coating which, though somewhat dulled by time, still looked curiously like gold.

Alec examined them with great attention, and finally asked permission to take them to show to his guardian, Dr. Campbell.

Ben raised no objection, and Alec started at once for the doctor’s house, which was not a great distance from the old sailor’s cottage.

During his absence, Ben puffed away at his pipe and, as he gazed dreamily out over the sea, his thoughts went back to the unhappy madman whom he had taken off the deserted island and his final, miserable fate.

“Shows what comes o’ bein’ greedy, an’ bein’ smitten wi’ the gold-huntin’ fever!” he soliloquized, wagging his head with an air of supreme wisdom. “Ben, me boy, ye should thank yer stars as ye wur never smitten wi’ the thirst fur gold, an’ never went a-huntin’ fur treasure!”

These and other philosophic reflections upon the foolishness of desiring to be rich occupied his mind all the time till Alec reappeared, and afforded him, apparently, much mental satisfaction.

He was surprised when Alec came bursting in on his cogitations, with sparkling eyes and face all aglow.

“Ben!” cried the young fellow. “Ben, what do you think? The doctor has tested those things, and he declares that they are coated with gold–real gold! Even for the gold on them, he says, they are worth several pounds, while, as scientific curiosities, he says, any museum would give you a good price for them!

“But that’s nothing to what we have been talking of. The doctor was wondering only this morning where he could go to for his next exploring expedition. Now he’s got an idea–a grand idea! Why not go in search of this island you were yarning to me of, and see if we can find the treasure that poor fellow told you about?

“Could you take us to the island, do you think? Have you got the latitude and longitude? Would you come with us as guide if the doctor paid you well, and gave you a liberal share of whatever gold we might find?”

Up sprang Ben.

“Just wouldn’t I!” he exclaimed, waving his cap in the air, and suddenly oblivious of all his sage reflections of a few minutes previously.

“Hoorooh! I’ll be a millinairy yet afore I dies, as that pore chap said I could be, an’ ride in me own kerridge-an’-pair. I’ll ‘ave a coachman an’ footman, too, in leveries! D’ye think, sir, as I could have silver-an’-blue leveries, like the grand people up at the Hall have?”

Alec laughed good-humouredly.

“Can’t say as to that, Ben,” he said, “but we can postpone a decision on the point till we get back. And now I’m off to find my chum, Clive Lowther–for, of course, he’ll have to come, too.”

II. THE MYSTERIOUS ISLAND

THUS it came about that, a month or so later, Dr. Campbell’s new yacht, the Valda set out from England in search of the supposed South Seas treasure island.

She was a large, well-found steam vessel, with a picked crew, and fitted with almost every improvement known to modern science. She was well armed, too, and had even, packed away in her hold, two aeroplanes of a new type specially designed by the doctor himself.

Alec Mackay, to his great delight, had his chum, Clive Lowther, as fellow-traveller, and with them went, of course, the indispensable Ben Grove.

The ostensible aim of the expedition was the study of the natural history of certain islands in the vicinity of the mysterious Easter Island, of which curious accounts have been given by the two or three travellers who have visited it. And as Dr. Campbell was known as a zealous and experienced scientist and explorer, the statement created neither surprise nor particular curiosity.

*     *

*

“So that is the island at last! The place we’ve been thinking of, talking of, dreaming of for so long! It seems hardly possible to realise that we are at last actually in sight of it, and that all our expectations will soon now be put to the test! How do you like the look of it, Clive?”

“Not much, Alec, if I must confess what is in my mind. Compared with some of the beautiful islands we have passed, it seems to be a contrast indeed–if what we can see of it is a fair sample!”

This talk took place on the deck of the large steam yacht Valda, as that vessel, after two or three minor adventures, approached a huge, dark-looking and forbidding mass rising out of the depths of the ocean, and towering high up towards the heavens.

“This, according to the data furnished by Ben Grove, was the island upon which the explorers were to search for the wonderful gold cave.”

Clive Lowther lowered his telescope with a disappointed look; and his face, usually good tempered in expression, was clouded with dissatisfaction.

“It gives me the shivers to look at it,” he went on. “You speak of dreaming about it, Alec. If it turns out as disappointing in other ways as it is in appearance, then all our hopes have been dreams indeed!”

Just then Dr. Campbell came up beside the two, and gazed attentively at the uninviting-looking place they were approaching.

Seen now, in his white dress and sun-helmet, he seemed a different man from the man people at home knew as the absorbed, studious-minded scientist, giving to poring over abstruse experiments in the laboratory.

He was tall and robust, with an upright, alert figure, which denoted masculine activity, and a face expressive of a somewhat stern, determined character. But with it all, there was a breezy manner, and a light in the eyes which hinted at the kindly nature which lay beneath.

Alec Mackay was his ward. Alec’s father, the captain of a Scottish merchant ship, had disappeared many years before while on a trading expedition in those very latitudes they were then visiting, and had never been heard of since.

By a will made by Captain Mackay before he had last left England, the doctor had been appointed Alec’s guardian in case anything happened to his father, and as the lad had no mother, the worthy doctor had taken him to live with him, and, in due time, had made him one of his own assistants.

Dr. Campbell now took the telescope from Clive, and looked long and searchingly at the land they had come to visit, and he, too, was impressed by its gloomy appearance. This was made the more noticeable by a column of black smoke which rose from a high peak, and, speaking broadly, cast deep shadows over the rocks and valleys below.

The doctor called Ben Grove to him. The latter had been standing forward staring at the island, with a face in which there was even more disappointment than in Clive’s.

Ben came aft to the doctor with a look in which surprise and perplexity struggled with dismay.

“What’s the matter, Ben?” Dr Campbell asked.

“Strike my flag, sir, but this doesn’t look like the place at all,” the old sailor declared.

“Why, Ben, what’s wrong with it?”

“It be darker; no green grass an’ trees, as I can see–an’–why, it be higher–ever so much higher!”

“Ha,” muttered the doctor. “That may quite possibly be, and yet it may be the same place. These volcanic islands rise from the depths of the ocean with startling suddenness at times. And,” he added grimly, “they sometimes disappear just as suddenly. It is possible enough that this one may have risen higher out of the sea since you saw it last.”

“I can’t think it be the same place, sir,” Ben persisted, doggedly. “Beg pardon, sir, fur sayin’ it, but doan’t ye think as the cap’n may ‘a made a mistake?”

Dr. Campbell smiled.

“We’ll question him,” he said. “Go and ask him to come here.”

A minute or two later Captain Barron, the doctor’s navigating officer, appeared, a smile on his face, and lurking laughter in his eyes.

He was known in marine circles as “the Jolly Baron,” so seldom was it that he was seen without a smile. He was short, dapper, and smart; a splendid seaman, yet one who seldom bullied his men. It was said, indeed, that he could get more work out of a crew by cutting jokes with them than other skippers could by any amount of cursing and swearing.

III. IN TROUBLE

DR. CAMPBELL told Captain Barron of Ben’s doubts, and asked him if he were sure he had come to the right island.

“As sure as I am that Ben keeps his store of loose gold there,” returned the captain, slyly; for he had been confidentially told their object in wishing to visit that particular place.

Ben sniffed indignantly.

“I tell ye, sir,” he cried, “as this be double the size, and double as high as the island I landed on.”

The skipper shook his head reprovingly. “Sees everything double–so early in the morning, too,” he murmured. “Ben, my friend, I must reduce your grog allowance.”

“And theer be too much smoke,” Ben added, ignoring the insinuation.

“There’ll he more still by and by, you’ll see,” returned Barron, with a wink. “I’ve a pretty shrewd idea that this business will end in smoke. You wait and see if I’m not right.”

However, the doctor begged the skipper to go down into the cabin with him to consult the charts, and the smiling officer invited Alec and Clive to join them.

“It will give you a little insight into the mysteries of navigation, my lads,” he said.

It did. He showed the three a selected collection of maps and charts, and, with compasses, he set off various distances, which he resolved into figures, and these he worked out in algebra and logarithms, with some excursions into trigonometry and conic sections thrown in.

At the end of less than ten minutes their eyes ached and their heads reeled with pouring over the dizzy array of figures, and they were reduced to a state of mind in which they would have believed the skipper’s assurances if he had declared they had arrived at the moon itself.

The two chums escaped from the cabin gasping. They found Ben waiting for their report.

“It’s all right, Ben,” said Alec. “The captain’s proved it to us with figures.”

“What figures?” demanded the sceptical sailor.

“Oh, every pretty figure you can think of–triangles, cosines, tangents, and–and–heaps more. No end of ‘em–on sixteen slates.”

Ben was evidently impressed, but not convinced. He shook his head gloomily, and went for’ard amongst his friends of the fo’castle.

Meantime, the Valda had approached close enough to the strange island to afford a better view of its shores. The wind carried the smoke away above, too, so that it could now be seen that the upper portion was green and bright, while the lower part was sombre and bare-looking.

Suddenly Ben Grove came rushing aft to the two chums. His eyes were distended with astonishment, and his whole manner betrayed the utmost amazement.

“Mr. Alec! Mr. Clive!” he gasped. “Look yonder. Theer be my island, up top! I couldn’t see it afore! Blame me, if it ain’t shifted its anchorage an’ got shoved right on top of another one!”

As Dr. Campbell had suggested, the island must have risen much higher out of the sea since Ben had last seen it.

Unlike so many of the islands of the Pacific, there was no outer coral reef with the usual snug lagoon within. This, of itself, the doctor pointed out, was a further proof of its volcanic origin. There was, moreover, no anchorage to be found outside, consequently there was nothing to be done but–the weather being fine–to bring up in one of the numerous inlets.

Within a few hours tents and stores sufficient for a temporary sojourn had been landed, and the doctor and his two young companions, with Ben Grove and a couple of sailors, went ashore.

It was getting rather late in the afternoon when, their preparations for the night having been completed, Alec and Clive loaded their rifles, and set off for a ramble. They met with little, however, to encourage their exploring ardour.

From some foothills they ascended they obtained views of the inhospitable shore and parts of the country inland, and the more they saw of it the less they liked it.

The fertile, wooded uplands and grassy slopes they had seen from the sea were completely hidden from them by gloomy, overhanging precipices. All they could see was a wilderness of rocks strewn about in endless confusion, with, here and there, dark gullies and caverns, and lakes and pools of stagnant water. These reminded them of something Ben Grove said the madmen had told him about the island being the haunt of strange monsters, and indeed, the whole region seemed well-fitted for the dwelling place of uncanny creatures.

“Let’s go back to the camp, Clive,” said Alec, with a shiver. “I don’t like the look of this place. It gives me a dismal, creeping, eerie sort of feeling. I hope, to-morrow, we shall be able to get to the upper regions. A night or two down will be enough to give a fellow the horrors! Great Scott, what’s that?”

A shriek suddenly rang out on the heavy air. It echoed from rock to rock, and was multiplied a hundred times ere it finally died away in muttering moans.

The two started, and loosened their rifles, which, in the belief that the place was uninhabited, and that there was nothing to shoot at, they had slung at their backs.

“Heavens! What could that have been?” Alec cried out again, in dismay. “Was it human? Yet–how could it be?”

They stared and peered about on all sides, but could see nothing to account for what they had heard.

“Let’s go back,” muttered Clive. “I don’t like this!”

“But it must have been someone in distress–” Alec began, then broke off as the sound suddenly rose again.

This time it was unmistakably the long, despairing cry of someone in mortal dread, in awful, deadly danger.

Clive pointed to the edge of a hollow fifty or sixty yards from where they were standing.

“Seemed to me it came from below the brink there,” he said. And with one accord they ran towards it and looked over.

A strange and terrible sight met their gaze.

Immediately below them they saw the dark waters of a large pool, with steep, rocky sides, upon which, here and there, were a few small, stunted trees and low bushes.

Clinging desperately to one of these bushes, was a man–a stranger, who held on with one hand, whilst he held off, as best he could with the other, the head of a large serpent, which had already one coil round its victim’s body.

So startled was Alec by the sight that he slipped upon the treacherous edge of the pool, and rolled down its rocky side.

He thus came plump upon the two–the man and the reptile, and the force of the impact caused the man to let go his hold on the bush. The next moment there was a great splash, and all three were thrown, fighting and struggling wildly together, into the murky water of the pool.

Fortunately for all concerned, Clive retained his presence of mind in the sudden emergency in which he was placed.

Before coming ashore he had, while gathering together his arms, cartridge-belt, and so on, taken up a lariat and, half laughingly, wound it round his waist, remarking that one never knew what might not come in handy in a strange land. And it certainly came in handy now.

Even as he scrambled down, rifle in hand, to the water’s edge, he began to loosen and unwind it. In a trice he had it free; then, quickly coiling it he flung the coil deftly in the direction in which his chum had disappeared.

Thus it came about that when Alec rose to the surface the line came whizzing over his head, and fell so near that he was able to grasp it.

And well it was that he got a good hold upon it, for a moment or so later, to Clive’s dismay, he again sank from sight. And it was evident, from the manner of his disappearance, that he had been dragged under–probably either by the strange man or by the serpent.

Hoping it might be the former rather than the latter, Clive pulled frantically at the lariat, and, to make sure that he should not be dragged in himself, he passed the end round the bush the man had been clinging to.

Just as he had done this he saw the snake crawling ashore some distance to his right. Startled no doubt by the unexpected immersion, it had let go its hold and made for the shore.

Clive, his anxiety somewhat relieved as he saw the reptile creep away amongst the bushes and loose rocks, applied all his strength to pulling at the line. And now he had the satisfaction of seeing his chum’s face appear once more above the surface.

But he was evidently in difficulties, and the reason revealed itself a few seconds later. He was struggling to save the stranger, who was making the task harder by clinging to him with the desperation of a drowning man.

Where the two were the water was deep, for the bottom sloped steeply, and it seemed an age ere Clive could drag them near enough for his chum to touch the bottom with his feet. Then he still had all his work cut out, even with Clive’s assistance, to haul his burden ashore.

This done, he sank down exhausted, and, for a space, seemed almost as inanimate as the man he had rescued, who was quite unconscious.

Just then Clive heard voices. Someone from the yacht was evidently coming that way, though from where he was he could not see who it was.

He called out, and a cheery hail came in answer. Then three men appeared on the top of the slope. They were Ben Grove and two other sailors, and they came hurrying down to Clive’s assistance.

“Why, what be the matter?” cried Ben, looking in surprise, first at Alec and then at the stranger lying beside him. “Be Mr. Alec hurt? Who’s this galoot? A dago, b’ the look on him. Has he done anything t’ Mr. Alec?”

Clive answered as briefly as he could, the while that they tended the two. Alec very soon revived, sat up, and then got to his feet. But the stranger remained unconscious for some little time.

When finally he had recovered sufficiently to talk it turned out that Grove’s blunt reference to him as a “dago” had been a pretty shrewd guess, for he said he was a Portuguese. Then he gave the following account of himself, and of the reason of his being there alone:

His name, he said, was Miguel. He had been engaged, at Valparaiso, as a member of the crew of a vessel supposed to be employed in ordinary trading business among the Pacific Islands. But he had not been long on board before he had found out that this was not the case. The crew were “blackbirders”–in other words, slave traders. Their leader was a man notorious in those latitudes for the merciless manner in which he carried out his vile pursuits and the outrages he had committed.

Miguel, finding himself in such company, could not, he said, conceal his disgust and dislike. This led to a quarrel with the rascally leader, who, after trying first persuasion and then threats, had finally put him ashore on this inhospitable, uninhabited island, and left him there to his fate.

And there, according to Miguel’s statement, he had remained for over a month, helpless, hopeless, and half starved. His one occupation, apart from hunting about for food, had been keeping a look-out for a passing ship. But the island lay out of the usual track of vessels, and he had seen no sign of one till that morning, when, to his great joy, he had descried the yacht evidently approaching the place. Thereupon he had hastened down to the shore. But in his hurry he had passed too near to the crater-like edge of one of the large pools, had slipped, rolled down the slope, but brought up against a bush, only to be seized upon by a big serpent, as the two chums had seen.

“There are lots of serpents here,” he remarked. “And some are very large–much larger than the one that got hold of me. That fact has made my stay here very hard to bear. I had no firearms, and I never felt safe from them day or night–especially at night.”

The man seemed to be very grateful for his timely rescue, as well as overjoyed at the chance of getting away from the island.

The two chums felt sorry for him, and received his fervent protestations of gratitude with their usual good-natured feeling toward anybody in distress. Ben Grove alone seemed a bit cool in his attitude towards the stranger, a circumstance which Clive noticed and which caused him surprise.

He mentioned it to Alec, as the two hurried on ahead of the others, anxious to get back to the camping-place, for Alec wanted a change of clothes.

“Did you notice how standoffish Ben is with that poor castaway?” he said. “He seems quite sour over it. One would almost think he is sorry we saved the poor beggar. It isn’t like Ben, you know. He always seems so good-hearted, so ready to help anyone in trouble, no matter whom. I wonder what makes him so crusty?”

“No idea–unless it is that the man is what [the] sailors call a dago,” Alec answered. “Many very worthy English sailors are like that. Sailors have their likes and dislikes, and amongst some there is a strong prejudice, I believe, very often, against Portuguese in particular.”

The fact was that shrewd old Ben Groves, like the Scotsman, “had his doots”; though, if he had been pressed for reasons, he might have found some difficulty in giving tangible grounds for them.

Ben was an old stager, experienced in the ways of sailors, and somehow this man, judged by his standard, did not “ring true.” It was not altogether that he was a dago–though, as Alec had surmised, that had a good deal to do with it–but Ben doubted the truth of the man’s story.

Later on, when he was alone with the two young fellows in their tent, and they questioned him about it, he blurted this out:

“Ye heered him say he’d bin heer a month,” he reminded them, “an’ durin’ that time, he says, he’s ‘ad precious little t’ eat–bin half starved accordin’ t’ his account. Now, do he look half starved?”

Alec laughed.

“Oh, well, that may be a little bit of exaggeration just to excite our sympathy,” he suggested. “The poor chap wants to get away. He wants us to take him with us when we leave the island, and to feed him meanwhile and treat him well. We’re more likely to do that, I suppose he thinks, if we feel sorry for him.”

But this did not remove Ben’s doubts. He did not argue the matter further, but contented himself with shaking his head.

As to the doctor, he did not trouble himself with these doubts; or, if he did, he said nothing about them. He was evidently glad to meet with someone who knew something about the island, and he took the man in hand and began questioning him with a view to getting as much information from him as possible.

Afterwards, when he had finished with him and all arrangements had been made for the night, he called the two chums into his tent for a conference. He told them all the man had said, and spent some time comparing his statements with Ben’s recollections of the place, trying thus to settle upon some plan to guide their future proceedings.

The rough map which the madman whom Ben had taken off the island had made was brought out and carefully inspected. On it was marked the spot where the “gold pebbles” had been found.

“But where is that place now?” Dr. Campbell asked. “That is what’s going to bother us. Everything is altered. The whole configuration of the island is different. The place we want seems to have been lifted up, as it were. It is no longer down near the shore. That seems to be pretty certain. We shall have to look for it on the upper part.

“For all we know it may have been covered up in some way, and may want a lot of finding. There’s our difficulty. And we can’t even begin our search of the high ground until we have made ourselves acquainted with the lower part. There is the safety of the yacht to be considered. We must find out the best and safest place for her to be in while we are away elsewhere on our search.”

And then, it being by that time late at night, the conference broke up, and Alec and Clive went off to their tent.

Though they both “turned in” dead tired, one of the two–Alec– found it very difficult to get any rest.

The occurrences of the day–their actual arrival at the long-talked-of island, the adventure with the stranger, and sundry other smaller matters–seemed all to be passing and repassing in a jumble through his mind at once in a series of confused dreams.

From these he woke up so many times that, at last, he gave up the attempt to get any sleep, and, rising quietly, he put on his clothes and boots. Then, after a glance at Clive, who was slumbering soundly, he stepped softly to the entrance.

He found that it was light enough to see fairly well. Indeed, there was a moon somewhere behind the clouds which, he judged, would shortly appear in the clear space he could see down towards the horizon. Then it would shine across the sea and shore, and Alec took a fancy to a stroll along the strand to see what the place looked like by moonlight.

Apart from this, it would not be very long before the dawn. So of what use was it to think of lying down again?

Thinking thus, the young fellow stood awhile at the door of the tent looking out, at one time over the sea or the shore, then at the silent, ghostly forms of the other tents. Everyone but himself seemed to be asleep; indeed, from somewhere near at hand he could hear some very unmistakable snores.

He was about to step out from the shadow of the tent where he had been standing, when his attention was drawn to the further end of the encampment. There he distinctly saw a figure rise up, as though from the ground, and creep away, in stealthy, furtive fashion, in an inland direction.

Alec could not see who it was. He could not form any idea. The clouds over the moon had become temporarily darker, and the figure seemed but a shadow itself, as it moved noiselessly over the stony ground.

Who could this be who was thus leaving the camp in the darkness? What legitimate object could anyone have in view, taking all the circumstances into account?

Alec asked himself these and other questions, and failed to find a satisfactory answer to them. The only persons who might be supposed to be at liberty to act in this way were the doctor, Clive, Grove, and himself. Clive was asleep in the tent behind him, the doctor’s tent was at the other end of the camping-ground from that where the mysterious form had appeared. Besides, though Alec had not been able to see the figure clearly enough to recognize it or give a guess as to whom it could be, he felt pretty certain it had not been either the doctor or Ben Grove.

At once Alec made up his mind to follow this mysterious individual and find out what his object was. If it turned out to be innocent, so much the better, and no harm would be done. While, if there were anything sinister afoot, he would do his best to find it out and frustrate it. Having thus decided, he crept out of the camp in the wake of the one he had seen, taking every precaution to avoid being seen or heard himself.

The task proved longer and more difficult than he expected. The route lay through a rocky ravine covered with boulders, and full of pools and hollows. Cliffs, rising precipitously on each side, made the track so obscure that it was very trying work to pick one’s way. While the man he was following seemed to have no trouble, for he went ahead with confidence.

This fact alone was suspicious. If the man knew his way so well, he could hardly be one of the doctor’s party. Who, then, could he be save the stranger whom he, Alec, had rescued?

Alec recalled Ben Grove’s confessed distrust of the man, and was fain to admit that he had probably been more correct in his judgment than he himself had been.

On either side was a grim, shadowy tract of unknown extent, of which all he knew was that it must be very swampy.

As he went along, uncanny sounds came now and then to his ears. Strange noises, as of the slow movements of some heavy, bulky creature; loud snorts and stertorous breathing broke the brooding silence.

Then he would be startled by a sudden hissing [sound] close at hand, or a muffled splash, as of some monstrous form plunging into unknown depths.

Then all at once, as it were, it came home to him that he had lost his man.

He listened and listened, and waited patiently, straining his ears, intent upon picking up some sound which would guide him as to the fellow’s present whereabouts.