CHAPTER XIV

A PILE OF FUEL

Four days had passed, and nothing had happened. The stone mound in the
lake had not been visited, for there had been no reason for sending the
black men away, and with one of them nearer than a mile the captain would
not even look at his treasure. There was no danger that they would
discover the mound, for they were not allowed to take the lantern, and no
one of them would care to wander into the dark, sombre depths of the
cavern without a light.

The four white people, who, with a fair habitation in the rocks, with
plenty of plain food to eat, with six servants to wait on them, and a
climate which was continuously delightful, except in the middle of the
day, and with all fear of danger from man or beast removed from their
minds, would have been content to remain here a week or two longer and
await the arrival of a vessel to take them away, were now in a restless
and impatient condition of mind. They were all eager to escape from the
place. Three of them longed for the return of Rynders, but the other one
steadily hoped that they might get away before his men came back.

How to do this, or how to take with him the treasure of the Incas, was a
puzzling question with which the captain racked his brains by day and by
night. At last he bethought himself of the Rackbirds' vessel. He
remembered that Maka had told him that provisions were brought to them by
a vessel, and there was every reason to suppose that when these
miscreants went on some of their marauding expeditions they travelled by
sea. Day by day he had thought that he would go and visit the Rackbirds'
storehouse and the neighborhood thereabout, but day by day he had been
afraid that in his absence Rynders might arrive, and when he came he
wanted to be there to meet him.

But now the idea of the boat made him brave this possible contingency,
and early one morning, with Cheditafa and two other of the black fellows,
he set off along the beach for the mouth of the little stream which,
rising somewhere in the mountains, ran down to the cavern where it had
once widened and deepened into a lake, and then through the ravine of the
Rackbirds on to the sea. When he reached his destination, Captain Horn
saw a great deal to interest him.

Just beyond the second ridge of rock which Maka had discovered, the
stream ran into a little bay, and the shores near its mouth showed
evident signs that they had recently been washed by a flood. On points of
rock and against the sides of the sand mounds, he saw bits of debris from
the Rackbirds' camp. Here were sticks which had formed the timbers of
their huts; there were pieces of clothing and cooking-utensils; and here
and there, partly buried by the shifting sands, were seen the bodies of
Rackbirds, already desiccated by the dry air and the hot sun of the
region. But the captain saw no vessel.

"Dat up here," said Cheditafa. "Dey hide dat well. Come 'long, captain."

Following his black guide, the captain skirted a little promontory of
rocks, and behind it found a cove in which, well concealed, lay the
Rackbirds' vessel. It was a sloop of about twenty tons, and from the
ocean, or even from the beach, it could not be seen. But as the captain
stood and gazed upon this craft his heart sank. It had no masts nor
sails, and it was a vessel that could not be propelled by oars.

Wading through the shallow water,--for it was now low tide,--the captain
climbed on board. The deck was bare, without a sign of spar or sail, and
when, with Cheditafa's help, he had forced the entrance of the little
companionway, and had gone below, he found that the vessel had been
entirely stripped of everything that could be carried away, and when he
went on deck again he saw that even the rudder had been unshipped and
removed. Cheditafa could give him no information upon this state of
things, but after a little while Captain Horn imagined the cause for this
dismantled condition of the sloop. The Rackbirds' captain could not trust
his men, he said to himself, and he made it impossible for any of them to
escape or set out on an expedition for themselves. It was likely that the
masts and sails had been carried up to the camp, from which place it
would have been impossible to remove them without the leader knowing it.

When he spoke to Cheditafa on the subject, the negro told him that after
the little ship came in from one of its voyages he and his companions had
always carried the masts, sails, and a lot of other things up to the
camp. But there was nothing of the sort there now. Every spar and sail
must have been carried out to sea by the flood, for if they had been left
on the shores of the stream the captain would have seen them.

This was hard lines for Captain Horn. If the Rackbirds' vessel had been
in sailing condition, everything would have been very simple and easy for
him. He could have taken on board not only his own party, but a large
portion of the treasure, and could have sailed away as free as a bird,
without reference to the return of Rynders and his men. A note tied to a
pole set up in a conspicuous place on the beach would have informed Mr.
Rynders of their escape from the place, and it was not likely that any of
the party would have thought it worth while to go farther on shore. But
it was of no use to think of getting away in this vessel. In its present
condition it was absolutely useless.

While the captain had been thinking and considering the matter, Cheditafa
had been wandering about the coast exploring. Presently Captain Horn saw
him running toward him, accompanied by the two other negroes.

"'Nother boat over there," cried Cheditafa, as the captain approached
him,--"'nother boat, but badder than this. No good. Cook with it,
that's all."

The captain followed Cheditafa across the little stream, and a hundred
yards or so along the shore, and over out of reach of the tide, piled
against a low sand mound, he saw a quantity of wood, all broken into
small pieces, and apparently prepared, as Cheditafa had suggested, for
cooking-fires. It was also easy to see that these pieces of wood had
once been part of a boat, perhaps of a wreck thrown up on shore. The
captain approached the pile of wood and picked up some of the pieces. As
he held in his hand a bit of gunwale, not much more than a foot in
length, his eyes began to glisten and his breath came quickly. Hastily
pulling out several pieces from the mass of debris, he examined them
thoroughly. Then he stepped back, and let the piece of rudder he was
holding drop to the sand.

"Cheditafa," said he, speaking huskily, "this is one of the Castor's
boats. This is a piece of the boat in which Rynders and the men set out."

The negro looked at the captain and seemed frightened by the expression
on his face. For a moment he did not speak, and then in a trembling voice
he asked, "Where all them now?"

The captain shook his head, but said nothing. That pile of fragments was
telling him a tale which gradually became plainer and plainer to him, and
which he believed as if Rynders himself had been telling it to him. His
ship's boat, with its eight occupants, had never gone farther south than
the mouth of the little stream. That they had been driven on shore by the
stress of weather the captain did not believe. There had been no high
winds or storms since their departure. Most likely they had been induced
to land by seeing some of the Rackbirds on shore, and they had naturally
rowed into the little cove, for assistance from their fellow-beings was
what they were in search of. But no matter how they happened to land,
the Rackbirds would never let them go away again to carry news of the
whereabouts of their camp. Almost unarmed, these sailors must have fallen
easy victims to the Rackbirds.

It was not unlikely that the men had been shot down from ambush without
having had any intercourse or conversation with the cruel monsters to
whom they had come to seek relief, for had there been any talk between
them, Rynders would have told of his companions left on shore, and these
would have been speedily visited by the desperadoes. For the destruction
of the boat there was reason enough: the captain of the Rackbirds gave
his men no chance to get away from him.

With a heart of lead, Captain Horn turned to look at his negro
companions, and saw them all sitting together on the sands, chattering
earnestly, and holding up their hands with one or more fingers extended,
as if they were counting. Cheditafa came forward.

"When all your men go away from you?" he asked.

The captain reflected a moment, and then answered, "About two weeks ago."

"That's right! That's right!" exclaimed the negro, nodding violently as
he spoke. "We talk about that. We count days. It's just ten days and
three days, and Rackbirds go 'way, and leave us high up in rock-hole,
with no ladder. After a while we hear guns, guns, guns. Long time guns
shooting. When they come back, it almost dark, and they want supper
bad. All time they eat supper, they talk 'bout shooting sharks. Shot
lots sharks, and chuck them into the water. Sharks in water already
before they is shot. We say then it no sharks they shot. Now we say it
must been--"

The captain turned away. He did not want to hear any more. There was no
possible escape from the belief that Rynders and all his men had been
shot down, and robbed, if they had anything worth taking, and then their
bodies carried out to sea, most likely in their own boat, and thrown
overboard.

There was nothing more at this dreadful place that Captain Horn wished to
see, to consider, or to do, and calling the negroes to follow him, he set
out on his return.

During the dreary walk along the beach the captain's depression of
spirits was increased by the recollection of his thoughts about the
sailors and the treasure. He had hoped that these men would not come back
in time to interfere with his disposal, in his own way, of the gold he
had found. They would not come back now, but the thought did not lighten
his heart. But before he reached the caves, he had determined to throw
off the gloom and sadness which had come upon him. Under the
circumstances, grief for what had happened was out of place. He must keep
up a good heart, and help his companions to keep up good hearts. Now he
must do something, and, like a soldier in battle, he must not think of
the comrade who had fallen beside him, but of the enemy in front of him.

When he reached the caves he found supper ready, and that evening he said
nothing to his companions of the important discoveries he had made,
contenting himself with a general statement of the proofs that the
Rackbirds and their camp had been utterly destroyed by the flood.




CHAPTER XV

THE CLIFF-MAKA SCHEME

The next morning Captain Horn arose with a plan of action in his mind,
and he was now ready, not only to tell the two ladies and Ralph
everything he had discovered, but also what he was going to do. The
announcement of the almost certain fate of Rynders and his men filled his
hearers with horror, and the statement of the captain's plans did not
tend to raise their spirits.

"You see," said he, "there is nothing now for us to wait for here. As to
being taken off by a passing vessel, there is no chance of that whatever.
We have gone over that matter before. Nor can we get away overland, for
some of us would die on the way. As to that little boat down there, we
cannot all go to sea in her, but in it I must go out and seek for help."

"And leave us here!" cried Mrs. Cliff. "Do not think of that, captain!
Whatever happens, let us all keep together."

"That cannot be," he said. "I must go because I am the only seaman among
you, and I will take four of those black fellows with me. I do not
apprehend any danger unless we have to make a surf landing, and even
then they can all swim like fishes, while I am very well able to take
care of myself in the water. I shall sail down the coast until I come to
a port, and there put in. Then I will get a vessel of some sort and come
back for you. I shall leave with you two of these negroes--Cheditafa, who
seems to be a highly respectable old person, and can speak English, and
Mok, who, although he can't talk to you, can understand a great deal that
is said to him. Apart from his being such an abject coward, he seems to
be a good, quiet fellow, willing to do what he is told. On the whole, I
think he has the best disposition of the four black dummies, begging
their pardons. I will take the three others, with Maka as head man and
interpreter. If I should be cast on shore by a storm, I could swim
through the surf to the dry land, but I could not undertake to save any
one else. If this misfortune should happen, we could make our way on foot
down the coast."

"But suppose you should meet some Rackbirds?" cried Ralph.

"I have no fear of that," answered the captain. "I do not believe there
is another set of such scoundrels on this hemisphere. So, as soon as I
can get that boat in order, and rig up a mast and a sail for her, I
shall provision her well and set out. Of course, I do not want to leave
you all here, but there is no help for it, and I don't believe you need
have the slightest fear of harm. Later, we will plan what is to be done
by you and by me, and get everything clear and straight. The first thing
is to get the boat ready, and I shall go to work on that to-day. I will
also take some of the negroes down to the Rackbirds' camp, and bring
away more stores."

"Oh, let me go!" cried Ralph. "It is the cruellest thing in the world to
keep me cooped up here. I never go anywhere, and never do anything."

But the captain shook his head. "I am sorry, my boy," said he, "to keep
you back so much, but it cannot be helped. When I go away, I shall make
it a positive condition that you do not leave your sister and Mrs.
Cliff, and I do not want you to begin now." A half-hour afterwards, when
the captain and his party had set out, Ralph came to his sister and sat
down by her.

"Do you know," said he, "what I think of Captain Horn? I think he is a
brave man, and a man who knows what to do when things turn up suddenly,
but, for all that, I think he is a tyrant. He does what he pleases, and
he makes other people do what he pleases, and consults nobody."

"My dear Ralph," said Edna, "if you knew how glad I am we have such a man
to manage things, you would not think in that way. A tyrant is just what
we want in our situation, provided he knows what ought to be done, and I
think that Captain Horn does know."

"That's just like a woman," said Ralph. "I might have expected it."

During the rest of that day and the morning of the next, everybody in
the camp worked hard and did what could be done to help the captain
prepare for his voyage, and even Ralph, figuratively speaking, put his
hand to the oar.

The boat was provisioned for a long voyage, though the captain hoped to
make a short one, and at noon he announced that he would set out late
that afternoon.

"It will be flood-tide, and I can get away from the coast better then
than if the tide were coming in."

"How glad I should be to hear you speak in that way," said Mrs. Cliff,
"if we were only going with you! But to be left here seems like a death
sentence all around. You may be lost at sea while we perish on shore."

"I do not expect anything of the sort!" exclaimed Edna. "With Ralph and
two men to defend us, we can stay here a long time. As for the captain's
being lost, I do not think of it for a moment. He knows how to manage a
boat too well for that."

"I don't like it at all! I don't like it at all!" exclaimed Mrs. Cliff.
"I don't expect misfortunes any more than other people do, but our
common sense tells us they may come, and we ought to be prepared for
them. Of course, you are a good sailor, captain, but if it should happen
that you should never come back, or even if it should be a very long
time before you come back, how are we going to know what we ought to do?
As far as I know the party you leave behind you, we would all be of
different opinions if any emergency arose. As long as you are with us, I
feel that, no matter what happens, the right thing will be done. But if
you are away--"

At this moment Mrs. Cliff was interrupted by the approach of Maka, who
wished very much to speak to the captain. As the negro was not a man who
would be likely to interrupt a conversation except for an important
reason, the captain followed him to a little distance. There he found, to
his surprise, that although he had left one person to speak to another,
the subject was not changed.

"Cap'n," said Maka, "when you go 'way, who's boss?"

The captain frowned, and yet he could not help feeling interested in this
anxiety regarding his successor. "Why do you ask that?" he said. "What
difference does it make who gives you your orders when I am gone?"

Maka shook his head. "Big difference," he said. "Cheditafa don' like boy
for boss. He wan' me tell you, if boy is boss, he don' wan' stay. He wan'
go 'long you."

"You can tell Cheditafa," said the captain, quickly, "that if I want him
to stay he'll stay, and if I want him to go he'll go. He has nothing to
say about that. So much for him. Now, what do you think?"

"Like boy," said Maka, "but not for boss."

The captain was silent for a moment. Here was a matter which really
needed to be settled. If he had felt that he had authority to do as he
pleased, he would have settled it in a moment.

"Cap'n big man. He know everyt'ing," said Maka. "But when cap'n go 'way,
boy t'ink he big man. Boy know nothin'. Better have woman for boss."

Captain Horn could not help being amused. "Which woman?" he asked.

"I say old one. Cheditafa say young one."

The captain was not a man who would readily discuss his affairs with any
one, especially with such a man as Maka; but now the circumstances were
peculiar, and he wanted to know the opinions of these men he was about to
leave behind him.

"What made you and Cheditafa think that way?" he asked.

"I t'ink old one know more," replied the negro, "and Cheditafa t'ink wife
make bes' boss when cap'n gone, and young one make bes' wife."

"You impertinent black scoundrels!" exclaimed the captain, taking a step
toward Maka, who bounced backward a couple of yards. "What do you mean by
talking about Miss Markham and me in that way? I'll--" But there he
paused. It would not be convenient to knock the heads off these men at
this time. "Cheditafa must be a very great fool," said he, speaking more
quietly. "Does he suppose I could call anybody my wife just for the sake
of giving you two men a boss?"

"Oh, Cheditafa know!" exclaimed Maka, but without coming any nearer
the captain. "He know many, many t'ings, but he 'fraid come tell
you hisself."

"I should think he would be," replied the captain, "and I wonder you are
not afraid, too."

"Oh, I is, I is," said Maka. "I's all w'ite inside. But somebody got
speak boss 'fore he go 'way. If nobody speak, den you go 'way--no boss.
All crooked. Nobody b'long to anybody. Den maybe men come down from
mountain, or maybe men come in boat, and dey say, 'Who's all you people?
Who you b'long to?' Den dey say dey don' b'long nobody but demselves.
Den, mos' like, de w'ite ones gets killed for dey clothes and dey money.
And Cheditafa and me we gets tuck somew'ere to be slaves. But if we say,
'Dat lady big Cap'n Horn's wife--all de t'ings and de people b'long to
big he'--hi! dey men hands off--dey shake in de legs. Everybody know big
Cap'n Horn."

The captain could not help laughing. "I believe you are as big a fool as
Cheditafa," said he. "Don't you know I can't make a woman my wife just by
calling her so?"

"Don' mean dat!" exclaimed Maka. "Cheditafa don' mean dat. He make all
right. He priest in he own country. He marry people. He marry you 'fore
you go, all right. He talk 'bout dat mos' all night, but 'fraid come
tell cap'n."

The absurdity of this statement was so great that it made the captain
laugh instead of making him angry; but before he could say anything more
to Maka, Mrs. Cliff approached him. "You must excuse me, captain," she
said, "but really the time is very short, and I have a great deal to say
to you, and if you have finished joking with that colored man, I wish you
would talk with me."

"You will laugh, too," said the captain, "when you hear what he said to
me." And in a few words he told her what Maka had proposed.

Instead of laughing, Mrs. Cliff stood staring at him in silent amazement.

"I see I have shocked you," said the captain, "but you must remember that
that is only a poor heathen's ignorant vagary. Please say nothing about
it, especially to Miss Markham."

"Say nothing about it!" exclaimed Mrs. Cliff. "I wish I had a thousand
tongues to talk of it. Captain, do you really believe that Cheddy man is
a priest, or what goes for one in his own country? If he is, he ought to
marry you and Edna."

The captain frowned, with an air of angry impatience. "I could excuse
that poor negro, madam," he said, "when he made such a proposition to
me, but I must say I did not expect anything of the kind from you. Do you
think, even if we had a bishop with us, that I would propose to marry any
woman in the world for the sake of making her what that fellow called the
'boss' of this party?"

It was now Mrs. Cliff's turn to be impatient. "That boss business is a
very small matter," she replied, "although, of course, somebody must be
head while you are gone, and it was about this that I came to see you.
But after hearing what that colored man said, I want to speak of
something far more important, which I have been thinking and thinking
about, and to which I could see no head or tail until a minute ago.
Before I go on, I want you to answer me this question: If you are lost
at sea, and never come back, what is to become of that treasure? It is
yours now, as you let us know plainly enough, but whose will it be if
you should die? It may seem like a selfish and sordid thing for me to
talk to you in this way just before you start on such an expedition, but
I am a business woman,--since my husband's death I have been obliged to
be that,--and I look at things with a business eye. Have you considered
this matter?"

"Yes, I have," answered the captain, "very seriously."

"And so have I," said Mrs. Cliff. "Whether Edna has or not I don't
know, for she has said nothing to me. Now, we are not related to you,
and, of course, have no claim upon you in that way, but I do think
that, as we have all suffered together, and gone through dangers
together, we all ought to share, in some degree at least, in good
things as well as bad ones."

"Mrs. Cliff," said the captain, speaking very earnestly, "you need not
say anything more on that subject. I have taken possession of that
treasure, and I intend to hold it, in order that I may manage things in
my own way, and avoid troublesome disputes. But I have not the slightest
idea of keeping it all for myself. I intend that everybody who has had
any concern in this expedition shall have a share in it. I have thought
over the matter a great deal, and intended, before I left, to tell you
and Miss Markham what I have decided upon. Here is a paper I have drawn
up. It is my will. It is written in lead--pencil and may not be legal,
but it is the best I can do. I have no relatives, except a few second
cousins somewhere out in the Northwest, and I don't want them to have
anything to do directly with my property, for they would be sure to make
trouble. Here, as you see, I leave to you, Miss Markham, and Ralph all
the property, of every kind and description, of which I may die
possessed. This, of course, would cover all treasure you may be able to
take away from this place, and which, without this will, might be claimed
by some of my distant relatives, if they should ever chance to hear the
story of my discovery.

"Besides this, I have written here, on another page of this note--book, a
few private directions as to how I want the treasure disposed of. I say
nothing definite, and mention no exact sums, but, in a general way, I
have left everything in the hands of you two ladies. I know that you will
make a perfectly just and generous disposition of what you may get."

"That is all very kind and good of you," said Mrs. Cliff, "but I cannot
believe that such a will would be of much service. If you have relatives
you are afraid of,--and I see you have,--if Edna Markham were your widow,
then by law she would get a good part of it, even if she did not get it
all, and if Edna got it, we would be perfectly satisfied."

"It is rather a grim business to talk about Miss Markham being my widow,"
said the captain, "especially under such circumstances. It strikes me
that the kind of marriage you propose would be a good deal flimsier than
this will."

"It does not strike me so," said she. "A mere confession before witnesses
by a man and woman that they are willing to take each other for husband
and wife is often a legal ceremony, and if there is any kind of a
religious person present to perform the ceremony, it helps, and in a case
like this no stone should be left unturned. You see, you have assumed a
great deal of responsibility about this. You have stated--and if we were
called upon to testify, Miss Markham and I would have to acknowledge that
you have so stated--that you claimed this treasure as your discovery, and
that it all belonged to you. So, you see, if we keep our consciences
clear,--and no matter what happens, we are going to do that,--we might be
obliged to testify every cent of it away from ourselves. But if Edna were
your wife, it would be all right."

The captain stood silent for a few moments, his hands thrust into his
pockets, and a queer smile on his face. "Mrs. Cliff," said he, presently,
"do you expect me to go to Miss Markham and gravely propose this scheme
which you and that half--tamed African have concocted?"

"I think it would be better," said Mrs. Cliff, "if I were to prepare her
mind for it. I will go speak to her now."

"No," said he, quickly, "don't you do that. If the crazy idea is to be
mentioned to her at all, I want to do it myself, and in my own way. I
will go to her now. I have had my talk with you, and I must have one
with her."




CHAPTER XVI

ON A BUSINESS BASIS


Captain Horn found Edna at the entrance to the caves, busily employed in
filling one of the Rackbirds' boxes with ship-biscuit.

"Miss Markham," said he, "I wish to have a little business talk with you
before I leave. Where is Ralph?"

"He is down at the boat," she answered.

"Very good," said he. "Will you step this way?"

When they were seated together in the shade of some rocks, he stated to
Edna what he had planned in case he should lose his life in his intended
expedition, and showed her the will he had made, and also the directions
for herself and Mrs. Cliff. Edna listened very attentively, occasionally
asking for an explanation, but offering no opinion. When he had finished,
she was about to say something, but he interrupted her.

"Of course, I want to know your opinion about all this," he said, "but
not yet. I have more to say. There has been a business plan proposed
by two members of our party which concerns me, and when anything is
told concerning me, I want to know how it is told, or, if possible,
tell it myself."

And then, as concisely as possible, he related to her Maka's anxiety in
regard to the boss question, and his method of disposing of the
difficulty, and afterwards Mrs. Cliff's anxiety about the property, in
case of accident to himself, and her method of meeting the contingency.

During this recital Edna Markham said not one word. To portions of the
narrative she listened with an eager interest; then her expression
became hard, almost stern; and finally her cheeks grew red, but
whether with anger or some other emotion the captain did not know.
When he had finished, she looked steadily at him for a few moments,
and then she said:

"Captain Horn, what you have told me are the plans and opinions of
others. It seems to me that you are now called upon to say something for
yourself."

"I am quite ready to do that," he answered. "A half-hour ago I had never
thought of such a scheme as I have laid before you. When I heard it, I
considered it absurd, and mentioned it to you only because I was afraid I
would be misrepresented. But since putting the matter to you, even while
I have been just now talking, I have grown to be entirely in favor of it.
But I want you to thoroughly understand my views on the subject. If this
marriage is to be performed, it will be strictly a business affair,
entered into for the purpose of securing to you and others a fortune,
large or small, which, without this marriage, might be taken from you. In
other words," said he, "you are to be looked upon in this affair in the
light of my prospective widow."

For a moment the flush on the face of the young woman faded away, but it
quickly returned. Apparently involuntarily, she rose to her feet. Turning
to the captain, who also rose, she said:

"But there is another way in which the affair would have to be looked at.
Suppose I should not become your widow? Suppose you should not be lost at
sea, and should come back safely?"

The captain drew a deep breath, and folded his arms upon his chest. "Miss
Markham," said he, "if this marriage should take place, it would be
entirely different from other marriages. If I should not return, and it
should be considered legal, it may make you all rich and happy. If it
should not hold good, we can only think we have done our best. But as to
anything beyond this, or to any question of my return, or any other
question in connection with the matter, our minds should be shut and
locked. This matter is a business proposition, and as such I lay it
before you. If we adopt it, we do so for certain reasons, and beyond
those reasons neither of us is qualified to go. We should keep our eyes
fixed upon the main point, and think of nothing else."

"Something else must be looked at," said Edna. "It is just as likely that
you will come back as that you will be lost at sea."

"This plan is based entirely on the latter supposition," replied the
captain. "It has nothing to do with the other. If we consider it at all,
we must consider it in that light."

"But we must consider it in the other light," she said. She was now quite
pale, and her face had a certain sternness about it.

"I positively refuse to do that," he said. "I will not think about it,
or say one word about it. I will not even refer to any future settlement
of that question. The plan I present rests entirely upon my non-return."

"But if you do return?" persisted Edna.

The captain smiled and shook his head. "You must excuse me," he said,
"but I can say nothing about that."

She looked steadily at him for a few moments, and then she said: "Very
well, we will say nothing about it. As to the plan which has been
devised to give us, in case of accident to you, a sound claim to the
treasure which has been found here, and to a part of which I consider I
have a right, I consent to it. I do this believing that I should share
in the wonderful treasures in that cave. I have formed prospects for my
future which would make my life a thousand times better worth living
than I ever supposed it would be, and I do not wish to interfere with
those prospects. I want them to become realities. Therefore, I consent
to your proposition, and I will marry you upon a business basis, before
you leave."

"Your hand upon it," said the captain; and she gave him a hand so cold
that it chilled his own. "Now I will go talk to Maka and Cheditafa," he
said. "Of course, we understand that it may be of no advantage to have
this coal-black heathen act as officiating clergyman, but it can do no
harm, and we must take the chances. I have a good deal to do, and no time
to lose if I am to get away on the flood-tide this afternoon. Will it
suit you if I get everything ready to start, and we then have the
ceremony?"

"Oh, certainly," replied Edna. "Any spare moment will suit me."

When he had gone, Edna Markham sat down on the rock again. With her hands
clasped in her lap, she gazed at the sand at her feet.

"Without a minute to think of it," she said to herself,
presently,--"without any consideration at all. And now it is done! It
was not like me. I do not know myself. But yes!" she exclaimed, speaking
so that any one near might have heard her, "I do know myself. I said it
because I was afraid, if I did not say it then, I should never be able
to say it."

If Captain Horn could have seen her then, a misty light, which no man can
mistake, shining in her eyes as she gazed out over everything into
nothing, he might not have been able to confine his proposition to a
strictly business basis.

She sat a little longer, and then she hurried away to finish the work on
which she had been engaged; but when Mrs. Cliff came to look for her, she
did not find her packing provisions for the captain's cruise, but sitting
alone in one of the inner caves.

"What, crying!" exclaimed Mrs. Cliff. "Now, let me tell you, my dear
child, I do not feel in the least like crying. The captain has told me
that everything is all right between you, and the more I think of it, the
more firmly I believe that it is the grandest thing that could have
happened. For some reason or other, and I am sure I cannot tell you why,
I do not believe at all that the captain is going to be shipwrecked in
that little boat. Before this I felt sure we should never see him again,
but now I haven't a doubt that he will get somewhere all right, and that
he will come back all right, and if he does it will be a grand match.
Why, Edna child, if Captain Horn never gets away with a stick of that
gold, it will be a most excellent match. Now, I believe in my heart," she
continued, sitting down by Edna, "that when you accepted Captain Horn you
expected him to come back. Tell me isn't that true?"

At that instant Miss Markham gave a little start. "Mrs. Cliff," she
exclaimed, "there is Ralph calling me. Won't you go and tell him all
about it? Hurry, before he comes in here."

When Ralph Markham heard what had happened while he was down at the
beach, he grew so furiously angry that he could not find words in which
to express himself.

"That Captain Horn," he cried, when speech came to him, "is the most
despotic tyrant on the face of the earth! He tells people what they are
to do, and they simply go and do it. The next thing he will do is to tell
you to adopt me as a son. Marry Edna! My sister! And I not know it! And
she, just because he asks her, must go and marry him. Well, that is just
like a woman."

With savage strides he was about marching back to the beach, when Mrs.
Cliff stopped him.

"Now, don't make everybody unhappy, Ralph," she said, "but just listen to
me. I want to tell you all about this matter."

It took about a quarter of an hour to make clear to the ruffled mind of
Ralph the powerful, and in Mrs. Cliffs eyes the imperative, reasons for
the sudden and unpremeditated matrimonial arrangements of the morning.
But before she had finished, the boy grew quieter, and there appeared
upon his face some expressions of astute sagacity.

"Well," said he, "when you first put this business to me, it was tail
side up, but now you've got heads up it looks a little different. He will
be drowned, as like as not, and then I suppose we can call our souls our
own, and if, besides that, we can call a lot of those chunks of gold our
own, we ought not to grumble. All right. I won't forbid the banns. But,
between you and me, I think the whole thing is stuff and nonsense. What
ought I to call him? Brother Horn?"

"Now, don't say anything like that, Ralph," urged Mrs. Cliff, "and don't
make yourself disagreeable in any way. This is a very serious time for
all of us, and I am sure that you will not do anything which will hurt
your sister's feelings."

"Oh, don't be afraid," said Ralph. "I'm not going to hurt anybody's
feelings. But when I first meet that man, I hope I may be able to keep
him from knowing what I think of him."

Five minutes later Ralph heard the voice of Captain Horn calling him. The
voice came from the opening in the caves, and instantly Ralph turned and
walked toward the beach. Again came the voice, louder than before:
"Ralph, I want you." The boy stopped, put his hands in his pockets, and
shrugged his shoulders, then he slowly turned.

"If I were bigger," he said to himself, "I'd thrash him on the spot. Then
I'd feel easier in my mind, and things could go on as they pleased. But
as I am not six feet high yet, I suppose I might as well go to see what
he wants."

"Ralph," said the captain, as soon as the boy reached him, "I see Mrs.
Cliff has been speaking to you, and so you know about the arrangements
that have been made. But I have a great deal to do before I can start,
and I want you to help me. I am now going to the mound in the cave to get
out some of that gold, and I don't want anybody but you to go with me. I
have just sent all the negroes down to the beach to carry things to the
boat, and we must be quick about our business. You take this leather bag.
It is Mrs. Cliff's, but I think it is strong enough. The lantern is
lighted, so come on."

To dive into a treasure mound Ralph would have followed a much more
ruthless tyrant than Captain Horn, and although he made no remarks, he
went willingly enough. When they had climbed the mound, and the captain
had lifted the stone from the opening in the top, Ralph held the lantern
while the captain, reaching down into the interior, set himself to work
to fill the bag with the golden ingots. As the boy gazed down upon the
mass of dull gold, his heart swelled within him. His feeling of
indignant resentment began to disappear rapidly before the growing
consciousness that he was to be the brother-in-law of the owner of all
that wealth. As soon as the bag was filled, the stone was replaced, and
the two descended from the mound, the captain carefully holding the
heavy bag under his arm, for he feared the weight might break the
handle. Then, extinguishing the lantern as soon as they could see their
way without it, they reached the innermost cave before any of the
negroes returned. Neither Mrs. Cliff nor Edna was there, and the
captain placed his burden behind a piece of rock.

"Captain," said the boy, his eyes glistening, "there must be a fortune in
that bag!"

The captain laughed. "Oh, no," said he, "not a very large one. I have had
a good deal of experience with gold in California, and I suppose each one
of those little bars is worth from two hundred and fifty to three hundred
dollars." What we have represents a good deal of money. But now, Ralph, I
have something very important to say to you. I am going to appoint you
sole guardian and keeper of that treasure. You are very young to have
such a responsibility put upon you, but I know you will feel the
importance of your duty, and that you will not be forgetful or negligent
about it. The main thing is to keep those two negroes, and anybody who
may happen to come here, away from the mound. Do what you can to prevent
any one exploring the cave, and don't let the negroes go there for water.
They now know the way over the rocks to the stream.

"If I should not come back, or a ship should come along and take you off
before I return, you must all be as watchful as cats about that gold.
Don't let anybody see a piece of it. You three must carry away with you
as much as you can, but don't let any one know you are taking it. Of
course, I expect to come back and attend to the whole business, but if I
should not be heard from for a long time,--and if that is the case, you
may be sure I am lost,--and you should get away, I will trust to your
sister and you to get up an expedition to come back for it."

Ralph drew himself up as high as circumstances would permit. "Captain,"
said he, "you may count on me. I'll keep an eye on those black fellows,
and on anybody else who may come here."

"Very good," said the captain. "I am sure you will never forget that you
are the guardian of all our fortunes."




CHAPTER XVII

"A FINE THING, NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS"


After the noonday meal, on the day of Captain Horn's departure, Mrs.
Cliff went apart with Maka and Cheditafa, and there endeavored to find
out, as best she might, the ideas and methods of the latter in regard to
the matrimonial service. In spite of the combined efforts of the two,
with their limited command of English, to make her understand how these
things were done in the forests and wilds of the Dark Continent, she
could not decide whether the forms of the Episcopal Church, those of the
Baptists, or those of the Quakers, could be more easily assimilated with
the previous notions of Cheditafa on the subject. But having been married
herself, she thought she knew very well what was needed, and so, without
endeavoring to persuade the negro priest that his opinions regarding the
marriage rites were all wrong, or to make him understand what sort of a
wedding she would have had if they had all been in their own land, she
endeavored to impress upon his mind the forms and phrases of a very
simple ceremony, which she believed would embody all that was necessary.

Cheditafa was a man of considerable intelligence, and the feeling that
he was about to perform such an important ceremony for the benefit of
such a great man as Captain Horn filled his soul with pride and a strong
desire to acquit himself creditably in this honorable function, and he
was able before very long to satisfy Mrs. Cliff that, with Maka's
assistance as prompting clerk, he might be trusted to go through the
ceremony without serious mistake.

She was strongly of the opinion that if she conducted the marriage
ceremony it would be far better in every way than such a performance by a
coal-black heathen; but as she knew that her offices would not count for
anything in a civilized world, whereas the heathen ministry might be
considered satisfactory, she accepted the situation, and kept her
opinions to herself.

The wedding took place about six o'clock in the afternoon, on the plateau
in front of the great stone face, at a spot where the projecting rocks
cast a shade upon the heated ground. Cheditafa, attired in the best suit
of clothes which could be made up from contributions from all his
fellow-countrymen present, stood on the edge of the line of shadow, his
hands clasped, his head slightly bowed, his bright eyes glancing from
side to side, and his face filled with an expression of anxiety to
observe everything and make no mistakes. Maka stood near him, and behind
the two, in the brilliant sunlight, were grouped the other negroes, all
very attentive and solemn, looking a little frightened, as if they were
not quite sure that sacrifices were not customary on such occasions.

Captain Horn stood, tall and erect, his jacket a little torn, but with an
air of earnest dignity upon his handsome, sunburnt features, which, with
his full dark beard and rather long hair, gave him the appearance of an
old-time chieftain about to embark upon some momentous enterprise. By his
side was Edna Markham, pale, and dressed in the simple gown in which she
had left the ship, but as beautiful, in the eyes of Mrs. Cliff, as if she
had been arrayed in orange-blossoms and white satin.

[Illustration: Reverently the two answered the simple questions which
were put to them.]

Reverently the two answered the simple questions which were put to them,
and made the necessary promises, and slowly and carefully, and in very
good English, Cheditafa pronounced them man and wife. Mrs. Cliff then
produced a marriage certificate, written with a pencil, as nearly as she
could remember, in the words of her own document of that nature, on a
leaf torn from the captain's note-book, and to this she signed
Cheditafa's name, to which the African, under her directions, affixed his
mark. Then Ralph and Mrs. Cliff signed as witnesses, and the certificate
was delivered to Edna.

"Now," said the captain, "I will go aboard."

The whole party, Edna and the captain a little in the lead, walked down
to the beach, where the boat lay, ready to be launched. During the short
walk Captain Horn talked rapidly and earnestly to Edna, confining his
remarks, however, to directions and advice as to what should be done
until he returned, or, still more important, as to what should be done if
he did not return at all.

When they reached the beach, the captain shook hands with Edna, Mrs.
Cliff, and Ralph, and then, turning to Cheditafa, he informed him that
that lady, pointing to Edna, was now the mistress of himself and Mok, and
that every word of command she gave them must be obeyed exactly as if he
had given it to them himself. He was shortly coming back, he said, and
when he saw them again, their reward should depend entirely upon the
reports he should receive of their conduct.

"But I know," said he, "that you are a good man, and that I can trust
you, and I will hold you responsible for Mok."

This was the end of the leave-taking. The captain stepped into his boat
and took the oars. Then the four negroes, two on a side, ran out the
little craft as far as possible through the surf, and then, when they had
scrambled on board, the captain pulled out into smooth water.

Hoisting his little sail, and seating himself in the stern, with the
tiller in his hand, he brought the boat round to the wind. Once he turned
toward shore and waved his hat, and then he sailed away toward the
western sky.

Mrs. Cliff and Ralph walked together toward the caves, leaving Edna alone
upon the beach.

"Well," said Ralph, "this is the first wedding I ever saw, but I must say
it is rather different from my idea of that sort of thing. I thought that
people always kissed at such affairs, and there was general jollification
and cake, but this seemed more like a newfangled funeral, with the dear
departed acting as his own Charon and steering himself across the Styx."

"He might have kissed her," said Mrs. Cliff, thoughtfully. "But you see,
Ralph, everything had to be very different from ordinary weddings. It was
a very peculiar case."

"I should hope so," said the boy,--"the uncommoner the better. In fact,
I shouldn't call it a wedding at all. It seemed more like taking a first
degree in widowhood."

"Ralph," said Mrs. Cliff, "that is horrible. Don't you ever say anything
like that again. I hope you are not going to distress your sister with
such remarks."

"You need not say anything about Edna!" he exclaimed. "I shall not worry
her with any criticisms of the performance. The fact is, she will need
cheering up, and if I can do it I will. She's captain now, and I'll stand
up for her like a good fellow."

Edna stood on the beach, gazing out on the ocean illuminated by the rays
of the setting sun, keeping her eyes fixed on the captain's boat until it
became a mere speck. Then, when it had vanished entirely among the lights
and shades of the evening sea, she still stood a little while and
watched. Then she turned and slowly walked up to the plateau. Everything
there was just as she had known it for weeks. The great stone face seemed
to smile in the last rays of the setting sun. Mrs. Cliff came to meet
her, her face glowing with smiles, and Ralph threw his arms around her
neck and kissed her, without, however, saying a word about that sort of
thing having been omitted in the ceremony of the afternoon.

"My dear Edna," exclaimed Mrs. Cliff, "from the bottom of my heart I
congratulate you! No matter how we look at it, a rare piece of good
fortune has come to you."

Edna gazed at her for a moment, and then she answered quietly, "Oh, yes,
it was a fine thing, no matter what happens. If he does not come back, I
shall make a bold stroke for widowhood; and if he does come back, he is
bound, after all this, to give me a good share of that treasure. So, you
see, we have done the best we can do to be rich and happy, if we are not
so unlucky as to perish among these rocks and sand."

"She is almost as horrible as Ralph," thought Mrs. Cliff, "but she will
get over it."




CHAPTER XVIII

MRS. CLIFF IS AMAZED

After the captain set sail in his little boat, the party which he
left behind him lived on in an uneventful, uninteresting manner,
which, gradually, day by day, threw a shadow over the spirits of each
one of them.

Ralph, who always slept in the outer chamber of the caves, had been a
very faithful guardian of the captain's treasure. No one, not even
himself, had gone near it, and he never went up to the rocky promontory
on which he had raised his signal-pole without knowing that the two
negroes were at a distance from the caves, or within his sight.

For a day or two after the captain's departure Edna was very quiet, with
a fancy for going off by herself. But she soon threw off this dangerous
disposition, and took up her old profession of teacher, with Ralph as the
scholar, and mathematics as the study. They had no books nor even paper,
but the rules and principles of her specialty were fresh in her mind, and
with a pointed stick on a smooth stretch of sand diagrams were drawn and
problems worked out.

This occupation was a most excellent thing for Edna and her brother, but
it did not help Mrs. Cliff to endure with patience the weary days of
waiting. She had nothing to read, nothing to do, very often no one to
talk to, and she would probably have fallen into a state of nervous
melancholy had not Edna persuaded her to devote an hour or two each day
to missionary work with Mok and Cheditafa. This Mrs. Cliff cheerfully
undertook. She was a conscientious woman, and her methods of teaching
were peculiar. She had an earnest desire to do the greatest amount of
good with these poor, ignorant negroes, but, at the same time, she did
not wish to do injury to any one else. The conviction forced itself upon
her that if she absolutely converted Cheditafa from the errors of his
native religion, she might in some way invalidate the marriage ceremony
which he had performed.