"What of Mary?" demanded the deacon, perceiving that the young man paused.
"Only I was in hopes that what you had to say, deacon, might have some connection with her."
"What I have to say is better worth hearing than fifty Marys. As to my niece, Gar'ner, you are welcome to her, if she will have you; and why she does not is to me unaccountable. But, you see that chart--look at it well, and tell me if you find anything new or remarkable about it."
"It looks like old times, deacon, and here are many places that I have visited and know. What have we here? Islands laid down in pencil, with the latitude and longitude in figures! Who says there is land, thereaway, Deacon Pratt, if I may be so free as to ask the question?"
"I do--and capital good land it is, for a sealing craft to get alongside of. Them islands, Gar'ner, may make your fortune, as well as mine. No matter how I know they are there--it is enough that I do know it, and that I wish you to carry the Sea Lion to that very spot, as straight as you can go; fill her up with elephant's oil, ivory, and skins, and bring her back again as fast as she can travel."
"Islands in that latitude and longitude!" said Roswell Gardiner, examining the chart as closely as if it were of very fine print indeed--"I never heard of any such land before!"
"'Tis there, notwithstanding; and like all land in distant seas that men have not often troubled, plentifully garnished with what will pay the mariner well for his visit."
"Of that I have little doubt, should there be actually any land there. It may be a Cape Fly Away that some fellow has seen in thick weather. The ocean is full of such islands!"
"This is none of them. It is bony fidy 'arth, as I know from the man who trod it. You must take good care, Gar'ner, and not run the schooner on it"--with a small chuckling laugh, such as a man little accustomed to this species of indulgence uses, when in high good-humour. "I am not rich enough to buy and fit out Sea Lions for you to cast 'em away."
"That's a high latitude, deacon, to carry a craft into. Cook, himself, fell short of that, somewhat!"
"Never mind Cook--he was a king's navigator--my man was an American sealer; and what he has once seen he knows where to find again. There are the islands--three in number and there you will find 'em, with animals on their shores as plenty as clam-shells on the south beach."
"I hope it may be so. If land is there, and you'll risk the schooner, I'll try to get a look at it. I shall want you to put it down in black and white, however, that I'm to go as high as this."
"You shall have any authority a man may ask. On that point there can be no difficulty between me and you. The risk of the schooner must be mine of course; but I rely on you to take as good care of her as a man can. Go then, direct, to that point, and fill up the schooner. But, Gar'ner, my business doesn't end with this! As soon as the schooner is full, you will come to the southward, and get her clear of everything like ice as fast as possible."
"That I should be very likely to do, deacon, though you had said nothing on the subject."
"Yes, by all accounts them are stormy seas, and the sooner a body is shut of them the better. And now, Gar'ner, I must swear you again. I have another secret to tell you, and an oath must go with each. Kiss this sacred volume once more, and swear to me never to reveal to another that which I am about to reveal to you, unless it may be in a court of law, and at the command of justice, so help you God."
"What, a second oath, deacon!--You are as bad as the custom-houses, which take you on all tacks, and don't believe you when you've done. Surely, I'm sworn in already."
"Kiss the book, and swear to what I have put to you," said the deacon, sternly, "or never go to sea in a craft of mine. Never to reveal what I shall now tell you, unless compelled by justice, so help you God!"
Thus cornered, Roswell Gardiner hesitated no longer, but swore as required, kissing the book gravely and reverently. This was the young man's first command, and he was not going to lose it on account of so small a matter as swearing to keep his owner's secrets. Having obtained the pledge, the deacon now produced the second chart, which was made to take the place of the other on the bed.
"There!" he exclaimed, in a sort of triumph--"that is the real object of your voyage!"
"That key! Why, deacon, that is in north latitude --° --″, and you make a crooked road of it truly, when you tell me to go as far south as --° --″, In order to reach it."
"It is well to have two strings to a body's bow. When you hear what you are to bring from that key, you will understand why I send you south, before you are to come here to top off your cargo."
"It must be with turtle, then," said Roswell Gardiner, laughing. "Nothing grows on these keys but a few stunted shrubs, and nothing is ever to be found on them but turtle. Once in a while a fellow may pick up a few turtle, if he happen to hit the right key."
"Gar'ner," rejoined the deacon, still more solemnly--"that island, low and insignificant as it is, contains treasure. Pirates made their deposits here a long time ago, and the knowledge of that fact is now confined to myself."
The young man stared at the deacon as if he had some doubts whether the old man were in his right mind. He knew the besetting weakness of his character well, and had no difficulty in appreciating the influence of such a belief as that he had just expressed, on his feelings; but it seemed so utterly improbable that he, living on Oyster Pond, should learn a fact of this nature, which was concealed from others, that, at first, he fancied his owner had been dreaming of money until its images had made him mad. Then he recollected the deceased mariner, the deacon's many conferences with him, the interest he had always appeared to take in the man, and the suddenness, as well as the time, of the purchase of the schooner; and he at once obtained a clue to the whole affair.
"Daggett has told you this, Deacon Pratt"--said Gardiner, in his off-hand way. "And he is the man who has told you of those sealing-islands too?"
"Admitting it to be so, why not Daggett as well as any other man?"
"Certainly, if he knew what he was saying to be true--but the yarn of a sailor is not often to be taken for gospel."
"Daggett was near his end, and cannot be classed with those who talk idly in the pride of their health and strength--men who are ever ready to say--'Tush, God has forgotten.'"
"Why was this told to you, when the man had natural friends and relatives by the dozen over on the Vineyard?"
"He had been away from the Vineyard and them relatives fifty years; a length of time that weakens a body's feelings considerably. Take you away from Mary only a fourth part of that time, and you would forget whether her eyes are blue or black, and altogether how she looks."
"If I should, a most miserable and contemptible dog should I account myself! No, deacon, twice fifty years would not make me forget the eyes or the looks of Mary!"
"Ay, so all youngsters think, and feel, and talk. But let 'em try the world, and they'll soon find out their own foolishness. But Daggett made me his confidant because Providence put me in his way, and because he trusted to being well enough to go in the schooner, and to turn the expedition to some account in his own behalf."
"Had the man the impudence to confess that he had been a pirate, and helped to bury treasure on this key?"
"That is not, by any means, his history. Daggett was never a pirate himself, but accident placed him in the same prison and same room as that in which a real pirate was confined. There the men became friends, and the condemned prisoner, for such he was in the end, gave this secret to Daggett as the last service he could do him."
"I hope, deacon, you do not expect much in the way of profit from this part of the voyage?"
"I