CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BLACK and high, the islands of the Aland Archipelago rise out of the Baltic. All winter long they lie bound about with ice. With the spring, the ice, borne southward by the waking streams of the north, grinds past them, scraping and tearing, rending all that lies in its path. The short summer follows, when the great bowl of the Baltic rocks to the horizon like molten gold; when the black rocks take on a coat of living green; and the sea birds scream as they flash through the surf that breaks against them or tears through the narrow channels between.
On the eastern edge of the archipelago rise two islands, Burndo and Ivono, Siamese twins whose tie has not been wholly severed. The channel between them lies almost east and west and not north and south, and so has been spared the full scour of the annual ice-flood. Cut deep at each seaward end, in the middle it is interrupted by a dike of harder rock that as yet persists against the inevitable and at low tide changes it into two inlets that nearly touch each other.
Into the western inlet, driven by her slowing engines, and urged by waves and tide, theOrkneyhad sped two years before; had impaled herself upon a sunken rock; and, shuddering backward, had sunk with her crew and her passengers and her million pounds sterling of gold.
No eye had seen her sink. The little fishing village of Burndo, scattered along the western inlet, close to the central neck, had slept soundly, lulled by the roar of the wind. The watchman at the beacon tower on the heights of Ivono Island had dozed, not watching. If cries arose from the sinking ship; if men battled for life in the surf; if the waves hammered and the wind tore, it passed unnoticed. When morning dawned theOrkneylay ten fathoms deep, and the wreckage and bodies belonging to her, caught in the tide, had been swept away toward Copenhagen and the vast Atlantic. Two succeeding winters had torn her masts away and ravished her upper decks of all their superstructure. But the hull lay intact, buried far beneath the green water.
For five days theSea Spumehad lain moored close to the head of the channel, within sight of the village, while the divers searched the bottom hour after hour until the last ray of daylight vanished. One of them was really a scientific assistant, and to him was allotted the task of making such observations and collecting such specimens as would naturally have been desired by Professor Shishkin, had the object of the expedition actually been that which it purported to be. Indeed, so far as the Professor was concerned, the work was conducted in goodfaith, the researches planned really being in exact line with his long-cherished ambitions.
The other two divers, under direction of Captain Wilson, commander of theSea Spume, who had necessarily been taken into confidence some time before, lost no time in setting about their search for the wreck. In less than half an hour after theSea Spumewas in position, they were hard at work at the bottom of the inlet.
It was not to be expected that the search would be brief. The inlet (or high-tide channel), though comparatively small, was large as compared with theOrkney. Its bottom was rocky, with irregular humps and unexpected holes, making search slow and difficult. Even if the unlucky steamer had run upon the beach itself, it must have slipped back and been carried by the current to a greater or less distance—just how far no one could predict. The divers might chance on it at their first descent, or might not discover it for a week or more. And after it was found would come the toilsome task of salvaging the gold. Five million dollars would weigh about ten tons, and, even lightened as it would be by being in the water, it would not be the work of a day to move it, even if it could be readily come at, which was improbable.
The adventurers had laid their plans with a full knowledge of these facts. Had there been any chance of speedy work, they might have tried to conceal their presence, but under the circumstances thiswould be impossible. Therefore they had resolved to proclaim their presence and even to welcome visitors if any should appear, up to the moment before the gold began to be brought aboard.
Besides the advisability of making their presence known to the authorities, there was always the off-chance that careful watch as the launch sped to and fro in the inlet might disclose theOrkneylying like a dark shadow beneath the water. The fisher boats, of course, had not discovered it, but this argued little, because the boats generally used the other, or eastern, outlet, rather than the western; and further, perhaps, because the fishermen were not looking for anything of the kind.
So soon as possible after the divers had gone below the water, Caruth ordered out a steam launch to make the quarter-mile trip to the head of the inlet and visit the village which he knew lay there, though screened from view of the yacht by a turn in the channel.
Caruth had intended to go to the village alone on the first trip, leaving Marie Fitzhugh (who thought it best not to show herself) and Captain Wilson to superintend affairs on board the yacht and deal with any emergencies that might arise. It was no part of his plan to take Wilkins along, but when that individual joined him, evidently intending to go, he did not quite know how to refuse.
So far, he had no reason to question the plainsman’s good faith. Wilkins had produced hisbrother’s letter at the time promised, and it had proved to be all that he had claimed for it. Caruth could not risk exciting any animosity by showing unwillingness to trust the man on shore.
Suddenly, in the midst of his hesitation, he recalled the westerner’s marked liking for the pretended Olga Shishkin, and at once sought out that young woman and invited her to go on the trip to the village.
“You’ll be doing us all a favor if you’ll come, Miss Shishkin,” he urged. “Of course we are all loyal and all that, but”—he dropped his voice—“none of us know very much about Wilkins, and it would make things a good deal safer for your father and the rest of us if you’d go along and keep an eye on him. He’s all right, you know, but——”
“But you’re on the anxious bench all the same. I know how it is myself. Sure! I’ll go with pleasure, Mr. Caruth.”
The run up to the village was brief, and soon the launch grated against a little wooden pier and disembarked her passengers, who started toward the cluster of buildings that seemed to constitute the village.
“There’s the church and the store and the post-office and the mayor’s house,” explained Caruth, pointing out the several edifices. “There’s no mistaking any of them, once you know the type. I’ll have to go to the mayor first, to report my arrival, and give him a chance to inform St. Petersburg.You needn’t come in unless you like. It will take only a few minutes, and then we can see the town.”
By the time the party had reached the village, quite a little crowd had collected. Visitors are few on Burndo Island, and the news of their coming spread apace. Curious faces appeared at doors and windows, and gaping children lined the way.
Caruth vanished into the house of the mayor, where he found that his business would take a much longer time than he had expected. The mayor, a stupid and suspicious peasant, spoke no English, and Caruth spoke no Russian, and there was a delay until an interpreter could be found.
This interpreter proved to be a slim fellow, whose appearance, despite the fact that his features were hidden by a profusion of beard, nevertheless impressed Caruth with a vague sense of familiarity. For an instant, indeed, the young fellow was sure that he had seen the man before; the next moment, however, he dismissed the idea as preposterous.
But he quickly adverted to his former feeling when the interpreter addressed him in very good American.
“Mornin’, Cap’n,” he said, with a nod. “This old son of a gun wants to know who you are and what you want here, anyhow.”
Caruth gave his name and explained the object of his trip; then added: “Who are you? You talk like an American.”
“American! Well, I guess yes! Me for the starry banner every time. I’m from little old Noo York;I am. But wait a minute till I tell his pie-face what you say.”
He turned and translated what Caruth had said into halting Russian, and then appeared to render into English something that the Mayor said in return.
“He says you are a liar or crazy,” he translated cheerfully. “He puts it kinder easier, but that’s what it means all right. Say, that yarn you told me about hunting things at the bottom of the bay is straight, I suppose.”
“Of course it’s straight.”
“Well, I’ll try to sneeze it to him again, though I ain’t much on the Russian. It tastes too much like it sounds, and that’s enough. Say! I suppose you belong to the safety vault crowd and have barrels of simoleons at home!”
Caruth flushed; then laughed. The man’s impudence was refreshing. “Well,” he admitted, “I’ve got enough to keep me going.”
“I guessed so. Wait a minute. I must keep the old geezer satisfied.” He turned and for a moment the language of the Czar held the floor. Finally the man resumed.
“It’s that touch of yours about rising sea bottoms that gets him,” he explained. “He says he’s lived here all his life and never saw the sea-bottom rise yet, ’cept when the tide goes out. It’s a tough sort of a gag to spring on one of these two-by-four government officers what rank somewhere between jack high and a bobtail flush and is intelligencedaccording. Not but what I reckon it’s true enough. But about this here question of wealth. If you’ve got it to burn, I don’t reckon you’d care to pyramid it a million or so, would you?”
Caruth was startled, his unquiet conscience making him suspect that everything any one said to him had reference to his true errand.
“I don’t know,” he answered cautiously. “What have you got? A gold mine?”
The man laughed shortly. “A gold mine!” he echoed. “A gold mine! Well, I guess you might call it that. What I want to know is, do you care to go in on it? Or if you don’t, will you help out an American marooned on this durned holeski?”
Caruth nodded uneasily. “Oh, I suppose so,” he answered slowly. “I’m always willing to help a fellow countryman. But you’ll have to explain.” The man nodded. “I’ll explain all right,” he promised. “But you’ve got to answer all the questions on this sheet of paper first or you’ll have the Czarski in your hairski.”
The questions were long and tedious, and when they were finished Caruth rose with a sigh of relief.
The interpreter rose also. “I’ve told his joblots that you want me to show you round the mud puddle,” he explained. “That’ll give me a chance to spiel. Come along.”
The two walked to the door. As they walked out, Wilkins met them. “Miss Shishkin’s looking at the church,” he explained. “She’s——”
He broke off and his face grew red, then white, as his eyes fell on the interpreter. Once or twice he swallowed; then coughed. “D—— that Russian tobacco!” he exclaimed. “It’s been strangling me ever since I sniffed it half an hour ago.”
Caruth, who had waited smilingly till the plainsman recovered, glanced toward the church. “Shall we go over and join Miss Shishkin?” he suggested. “I’ve got an interpreter here who can—— Hello! what’s become of the fellow?”
The interpreter had vanished. In the few instants that Caruth’s attention was centred on Wilkins, he had slipped away, probably around one of the houses that stood close by. At first Caruth supposed that the disappearance would be but temporary, but as the minutes went by without sign, he was forced to conclude that it was both permanent and intentional.
When at last doubt no longer remained, the young fellow laughed angrily. “Let him go, confound him!” he exclaimed. “He was half crazy, anyhow. Come! Let’s go to the church.”