Chapter 15 The Grave, Death, Gape, and Doting Death is near. Shakespeare. The bucket was large, for all that the turnkey had tried to frighten me into thinking it small, and I could crouch in it low enough to feel safe of not falling out. Moreover, such a venture was not entirely new to me, for I had once been over-gad-cliff in a basket to get two Peregrine's eggs. Yet nonetheless I felt ill at ease and fearful when the bucket began to sink into that dreadful depth, and the air to grow chilly as I went down. They lowered me gently enough, so that I was able to take stock of the way the wall was made, and found that for the most part it was cut through solid chalk. But here and there, where the chalk failed or was broken away, they had lined up the walls with brick, patching them now on this side, now on that, and now all round. By degrees the light, which was dim even over-ground that rainy day, died out in the well, till all was black as night but for my candle, and far overhead I could see the well-mouth, white, and round, like a lustreous full moon. I kept an eye all the time on Elsevier's cord that hung down the well-side, and when I saw it was coming to a finish, shouted to them to stop, and they brought the bucket up near level with the end of it, so I knew I was about eighty feet deep. Then I raised myself, standing up in the bucket and holding by the rope, and began to look around, knowing not all the while what I looked for, but thinking to see a hole in the wall, or perhaps the dam in itself shining out of a cranny. But I could perceive nothing, and what made it more difficult was that the walls here were lined completely with small, flat bricks, and looked much the same all round. I examined these bricks as closely as I might, and took course by course, looking first to the north side where the plumb line hung, and afterwards turning round to the bucket, till I was afraid of getting giddy, but to little purpose. They could see my candle moving round and round from the well-top, and knew no doubt what I was at. But Master Turnkey grew impatient and shouted down, What are you doing? Have you found nothing? Can you see no treasure? No, I called back, I could see nothing, and then, Are you sure, Master Block, that you've measured the plummet true to eighty feet? I heard them talking together, but could not make out what they said, for the bim, bomb, and echo in the well, till Elsevier shouted again, They say this floor has been raised, you must try lower. Then the bucket began to move slower, slowly, and I crouched down in it again, not wishing to look too much into the unfathomable dark abyss below. And all the while there rose groanings and moanings from eddies in the bottom of the well, as if the spirits that kept watch over me, dual, were yammering together that one should be so near it. And clear above them all, I heard Grace's voice sweet and grave.  But I set foot on this way now, I must go through with it. So when the bucket stopped some six feet lower down, and I fell again to the diligently examining the walls. They were still built of the same shallow bricks, and scammed course by course as before, I could at first see nothing. But as I moved my eyes downward, they were brought up by a mark, scratched on a brick, close to the hanging plummet line. Now, however lightly a man may glance through a book, yet if his own name, or even only one nice it, should be printed on the page, his eyes will instantly be stopped by it. So, too, if his name be mentioned by others in their speech, though it should be whispered never so low, his ears will catch it. Thus it was with this mark, for though it was very slight, so that I think not one in a thousand would ever have noticed it at all. Yet it stopped my eyes, and brought up my thoughts suddenly, because I knew by instinct that it had something to do with me, and what I sought. The sides of this well are not moist, green, or clammy, like the sides of some others where damp and noxious exhalations abound, but dry and clean. For it is said that there are below hidden entrances and exits for the water, which keep it always moving. So these bricks were also dry and clean, and this mark as sharp as if it made yesterday, though the issue showed that was put there a very long time ago. Now, the mark was not deeply or regularly graven, but roughly scratched, as I have known boys to score their names, or alphabet letters, or a date on the alabaster figures that lie in Moonfleet Church. And here, too, was called a letter of the alphabet, a plain Y, and would have passed for nothing more perhaps to any not born in Moonfleet. But to me it was the cross-pole, or black Y of the Mahoons, and whose shadow we were all brought up. So as soon as I saw that, I knew I was near what I sought, and the Colonel John Mahoon had put this sign here a century ago, either by his own hands, or by those of a servant. And then I thought of Mr. Glenny's story, that the Colonel's conscience was always unquiet because of a servant whom he had put away, and now I seemed to understand something more of it. My heart throbbed fiercely, as many another's heart has throbbed when he has come near the fulfilment of a great desire, whether lawful or guilty. And I tried to get at the break. But though by holding on to the rope with my left hand, I could reach over far enough to touch the break with my right, it was as much as I could do. And so I shouted up the well that they must bring me nearer into the side. They understood what I would be at, and slipped a noose over the well-rope, and so drew it into the side, and made it fast till I should give the word to loose again. Thus I was brought close to the well-wall, and the marked brick near about the level of my face when I stood up in the bucket. There was nothing to show that this brick had been tampered with, nor did it sound hollow when tapped. Though when I came to look closely at the joints, it seemed as though there was more cement than usual about the edges. But I never doubted that what we sought was to be found behind it, and so got to work at once fixing the wooden frame of the candle in the fastening of the chain, and chipping out the mortar-setting with the plasterous hammer. When they saw above that first I was to be pulled into the side, and afterwards felt a work on the wall of the well, they guessed, no doubt, how matters were, and I had scarce begun chipping when I heard the turnkey's voice again sharp and greedy. What are you doing? Have you found nothing? It chafed to me that this grasping fellow should be always shouting to me, while Irzavir was content to stay quiet. So I cried back that I had found nothing, and it should know what I was doing in good time. Soon I had the mortar out of the joints, and the brick loose enough to prise it forward by putting the edge of the hammer in the crack. I lifted it clean out and put it in the bucket to see later on in case of need if there was a hollow for anything to be hidden in, but never had occasion to look at it again, for there, behind the brick, was a little hole in the wall, and in the hole what I sought. I had my fingers on the wall too quick for words, and brought out a little parchment bag for all the world like those dried fish-eggs cast up on the beach that children call Shepard's purses. Now, Shepard's purses are crisp and crackle to the touch, and sometimes I've known a pebble get inside one and rattle like a pea in a drum, and this little bag that I pulled out was dry too, and crackling had had something at the sides of a small pebble that rattled it in the inside of it. Only I knew well that this was no pebble, and set to work to get it out, but though the little bag was parched and dry, it was not so easily torn, and at last I struck off the corner of it with the sharp edge of my hammer against the bucket. Then I shook it carefully, and out into my hand there dropped a pure crystal as big as a walnut. I'd never in my life seen a diamond, either large or small. Yet even if I had not known that Blackbeard had buried a diamond, and if we had not come hither of set purpose to find it, I should not have doubted that what I had in my hand was a diamond, and this of matchless size and brilliance. It was cut into many facets, and though there was little or no light in the well save my candle, there seemed to be in this stone the light of a thousand fires that flashed out sparkling red and blue and green as I turned it between my fingers. At first I could think of nothing else, neither how I got there, nor I had come to find it, but only of it the diamond, and there was such a prize, Elsevier, and I could live happily ever afterwards, and that I should be a rich man and able to go back to Moonfleet. So I crouched down in the bottom of the bucket, being filled entirely with such thoughts, and turned it over and over again, wondering continually more to see the fiery light fly out of it. I was, as it were, dazed by its brilliance, and by the possibilities of wealth that it contained, and had perhaps a desire to keep it to myself as long as might be, so that I thought nothing of the two who were waiting for me at the well-mouth. Till I was suddenly called back by the harsh voice of the turnkey crying as before, Why are you doing? Have you found nothing? Yes, I shouted back, I have found the treasure you can pull me up.  It in that short journey other thoughts came to my mind, and I heard Grace's voice again, sweet and grave.  At the same time I remembered how I had been led to the discovery of this jewel first, by Mr. Lenny's stories a second, by my finding the locket, and third by Ratsy giving me the hint that the writing was a cipher, and so had come to the hiding-place without a swerve or stumble, and it seemed to me that I could not have reached it so straight without a leading hand. But whether good or evil, who should say? As I near the top I heard the turnkey urging the donkey to trot faster in the wheel, so that the bucket might rise the quicker. But just before my head was leveled with the ground, he set the break on, and fixed me where I was. I was glad to see the light again, and Elsevier's face looking kindly on me, but vexed to be brought up thus suddenly just when I was expecting to set foot on Terra Farmer. The turnkey had stopped me through his covetous eagerness, said he might get sooner of the jewel, and now he craned over the low parapet, and reached out his hand to me, crying, Where's the treasure? Where's the treasure? Give me the treasure! I held the diamond between finger and thumb at my right hand, and waved it for Elsevier to see. By stretching out my arm, I could have placed it in the turnkey's hand, and was just going to do so when I caught his eyes for the second time that day, and something in them maybe stop. There was a look in his face that brought back to me the memory of an autumn evening, when I sat in my aunt's parlor reading the book called The Arabian Nights, and how, in the story of the wonderful lamp, Aladdin's wicked uncle stands at the top of the stairs when the boy's coming up out of the underground cabin, and will not let him out unless he first gives up the treasure. But Aladdin refused to give up his lamp, until he should stand safe on the ground again, because he guessed that if he did, his uncle would shut him up in the cabin and leave him to die there. And the look in the turnkey's eyes made me refuse to hand in the jewel till I was safe out of the well, for a horrible fear seized me that as soon as he had taken it from me, he meant to let me fall down and drown below. So when he reached down his hand and said, Give me the treasure, I answered, Pull me up then, I cannot show it to you in the bucket. And a lad, he said, cussing at me, It is safer to give him now, and have both hands free to help you getting out. The stones are wet and greasy, and you may chance to slip, and having no hand to save you, fall back in the well. But I was not to be cheated. And said again, sturdily, No, you must pull me up first. Then he took to scowling, and cried in an angry tone, Give me the treasure, I say, or it will be the worst for you. But Elsevier would not let him speak to me that way, and broken roughly.  He is sure-footed, and will not slip. It is his treasure, and he shall do with it as he likes. I know that thou shalt have a third of it when we have sold it. Then he, It is not his treasure, no, nor yours either, but mine, for it is in my well, and I have let you get it. Here, I'll give you a half share in it, but as for this boy, what is he to do with it? I'll give him a golden guinea, it will be richly paid for his pains. Tosh, cries Elsevier, Let us have no more fooling, this boy shall have his share, or I will know the reason why. I shall know the reason, fair enough, answer the turnkey, just because your name is Black, and there is a price of fifty upon your head, and twenty upon this boy's. You thought to outmit me, and you are yourself outwitted. In here I have you in a trap, and neither leaves this room, except with hand-stide and bound for the gallows, unless I first have the jewels safe in my purse. On that, I whipped the diamond back quick into the little parchment bag, and thrust both down snug into my breech's pocket, meaning to have a fight for it anyway before I let it go.  But before the words were out of his mouth, the turnkey had his weapon up, and levelled full at Elsevier.  Another giving time for answer, fires. Elsevier stood on the other side of the well-mouth, and it seemed the other could not miss him at such a distance, but as I blinked my eyes at the flash, I felt the bullet strike the arch-chain to which I was holding, and saw that Elsevier was safe. The turnkey saw it too, and flinging away his pistol sprang round the well, and was at Elsevier's throat before he knew whether he was hit or not. I said that the turnkey was a tall, strong man, and twenty years the younger of the two, so doubtless when he made for Elsevier, he thought he would easily have him broken down and handcuffed her, and then turned to me. But he reckoned without his host, for though Elsevier was the shorter and older man, he was wonderfully strong, and seasoned as a salted thong. Then they hugged one another, and began a terrible struggle, for Elsevier knew that he was wrestling for life, and I dare say the turnkey guessed that the stakes were much the same for him, too. As soon as I saw what they were at, and that the bucket was, say, fixed, I laid hold of the well-chain, and climbed up it by swinging myself onto the top of the parapet, be eager to help Elsevier, and get the turnkey gagged and bound while we made our escape. But before I was well on the firm ground again, I saw that little help of mine was needed for the turnkey was flagging, and there was a look of anguish and desperate surprise upon his face, to find that the man he had thought to master so lightly was strong as a giant. They were swaying, too, and fro, and the jailer's grip was slackening, for his muscles were overraught and tired. But Elsevier held him firm as a vice, and I saw from his eyes and the bearing of his body that he was gathering himself up to give his enemy a fall. Now I guessed that the fall he would use would be the Compton Toss. For though I had never seen him give it, yet he was well known for a wrestler in his younger days, and the Compton Toss was his most certain fall. I shall not explain the method of it, but those who have seen it used will know that it is a deadly fall, and he who lets himself get thrown that way even upon grass is seldom fit to wrestle another bout of the same day. Still it is a difficult fall to use, and perhaps Elsevier would never have been able to give it, had not the other at that moment taken one hand off the waist and tried to make a clutch with it at the throat. But the only way of avoiding that fall, and indeed most others, is to keep both hands firm between hip and shoulder blade, and the moment Elsevier felt one hand off his back, he had the jailer off his feet and gave him Compton's Toss. I do not know whether Elsevier had been so taxed by the fierce struggle that he could not put his fullest force into the throw, or whether the other, being a very strong and heavy man, needed more to fling him. But so it was that instead of the turkey going down straight as he should, with the back of his head on the floor, for that is the real damage of the Toss, he must need stagger backwards a face or two trying to regain his footing before he went over. It was those few staggering paces that ruined him. But with the last he came upon the stones close to the well-mouth, that had been made wet and slippery by continual spilling there of water. Then up flew his heels, and he fell backwards with all his weight. As soon as I saw how near the well-mouth he was got, I shouted out and ran to save him. But Elsevier saw it quicker than I, and springing forward seized him by the belt just when he turned over. The parapet wall was very low, and caught the turkey behind the knees as he staggered, tripping him over into the well-mouth. He gave a bitter cry, and there was a wrench on his face when he knew where he was come, and it was then Elsevier caught him by the belt. For a moment I thought he was saved, seeing Elsevier setting his body low back, with heels pressed firm against the parapet wall to stand the strain. Then the belt gave way at the fasting, and Elsevier fell sprawling on the floor. But the other went backwards down the well. I got to the parapet just as he fell head-first into that black abyss. There was a second of silence, then a dreadful noise, like a coconut being broken on a pavement. For we once had coconuts in plenty at Moonfleet when the Batavia man came on the beach, then a deep, echoing blow where he rebounded, and struck the wall again. And asked of all the thud and thundering splash, when he reached the water of the bottom. I held my breath for sheer horror, and listened to see if he would cry, though I knew at heart he would never cry again, after that first sickening smash. But there was no sound or voice, except the moaning voices of the water-eddies that I had heard before. Elsevier slung himself into the bucket. You can handle the break, he said to me. Let me down quick into the well. I took the break-leaver, luring him as quickly as I durced, till I heard the bucket touch water at the bottom, and then stood by and listened. All was still. Yet I started once, and could not help looking round over my shoulder, for it seemed as if I was not alone in the well-house. And though I could see no one, yet I had a fancy of a tall, black-bearded man with coppery face, chasing another round and round with a well-mouth. Both vanished from my fancy, just as the pursuer had his hand on the pursued. But Mr. Lenny's story came back again to my mind, how the Colonel Mahune's conscience was always on quiet because of a servant he had put away. And I guess now that the turnkey was not the first man these walls had seen go head-long down the well. Elsevier had been in the well so long that I began to fear something had happened to him when he shouted to me to bring him up. So I fixed the clutch and set the donkey going in the tread-wheel, and the patient-drudge started on his round, wrecking nothing whether it was a bucket of water he brought up or a live man or a dead man, while I looked over the parapet and waited with a cramping suspense to see whether Elsevier would be alone or have something with him. But when the bucket came in sight there was only Elsevier in it. So I knew the turnkey had never come to the top of the water again, and indeed there was but little chance he should after that first knock. Elsevier said nothing to me, till I spoke. Let us fling the duel down the well after him, Master Block, it was evenly come by and will bring a curse with it. He hesitated for a moment while I half hoped, yet half feared, he was going to do as I asked. But then said, No, no, thou art not fit to keep so precious a thing, give it to me. It is thy treasure, and I will never touch a penny of it, but fling it down the well, thou shalt not. For this man has lost his life for it, and we have risked ours for it. I may lose them for it too, perhaps. So I gave him the duel. Recording by Simon Evans Moonfleet by J. Mead Faulkner Chapter 16 Part 1 The Duel All that glisters is not gold Shakespeare There was the turnkey's belt lying on the floor with the keys and manacles fixed to it, just as it had failed and come off him at the fatal moment. Elsevier picked it up, tried the keys till he found the right one, and unlocked the door of the well-house. There are other locks to open before we get out, I said. I, he answered, but it is more than our life is worth to be seen with these keys, so send them down the well after their master. I took them back and flung them, belt and keys and handcuffs, clanking down against the sides into the blackness and the hidden water at the bottom. Then we took a pail and hammer, brush and ropes, and turned our backs upon that hateful place. There was the little court to cross before we came to the door banquet hall. They were locked, would be knocked until a guard opened them. As for the plasterer men who had passed an hour before, and only asked, Where's e-frame? meaning the turnkey. He is stopping behind in the well-house, Elsevier said. And so we passed on through the hall where the prisoners were making what breakfast they might of odds and ends, with a savoury smell of cooking and a great patter of French. At the outer gate was another guard to be passed, but they opened for us without question, cursing e-frame under their breath that he did not take the plain pains to let his own men out. Then the wicket of the great gate swung to behind us, and we went into the open again. As soon as we were out of sight, we quickened our pace, and the weather having much bettered and a fresh breeze springing up, we came back to the bugle about ten in the forenoon. I believe that neither of us spoke a word during that walk, and though Elsevier had not yet seen the diamond, he never even took the pains to draw it out of the little parchment bag in which it still lay hid in his pocket. Yet if I did not speak, I thought, and my thoughts were sad enough. For here were we a second time, flying for our lives, and if we had not the full guilt of blood upon our hands, yet blood was surely there. So this flight was very bitter to me, because the scene of death at which I had been witness this morning seemed to take me farther still away from all my old happy life, and to stand like another dreadful obstacle between grace and me. In the family Bible lying on the table in my aunt's best parlour was a picture of Cain, which I had often looked at with fear on wet Sunday afternoons. It showed Cain striding along in the midst of a boundless desert, with his sons and their wives striding behind him, and their little children carrying slung on poles. There was a quick swinging motion in the bodies of all, as though they must needs always stride as fast as they might and never rest, and their fists were set hard and thin with eternal wandering and disquart. But the thinnest and most restless looking and hardest face was Cain's, and on the middle of his forehead there was a dark spot, which God had set to show that none might touch him, because he was the first murderer and cursed for ever. This has always been to me a dreadful picture that I could not choose but look at it, and was sorry indeed for Cain, for all he was so wicked, because it seemed so hard to have to wander up and down the world all his life long, and never be able to come to moorings. And yet this very thing had come upon me now, for here we were, with the blood of two men on our hands, wanderers on the face of the earth, who durst never go home. And if the mark of Cain was not on my forehead already, I felt it might come out there at any minute. When we reached the bugle, I went upstairs and flung myself upon the bed to try to rest a little and think. But Elsevier shut himself in with the landlord, and I could hear them talking earnestly in the room under me. After a while he came up and said that he had considered with the landlord how he could best get away, telling him that he must be off at once, but letting him suppose that we were eager to leave the place because some of the exciser got wind of our whereabouts. He had said nothing to our host about the turnkey, wishing as few persons as possible to know of that matter, but doubted not that we should by all means hasten our departure from the island, for that as soon as the turnkey was missed, inquiry would certainly be made for the plasterers with whom he was last seen. Yet in this thing at least fortune favoured us, for there was now lying at cows and ready to sail that night a Dutch Cooper that had run a cargo of Holland's on the other side of the island, and was going back to Scheveningen, freighted with wool. Our landlord knew the Dutch captain well, having often done business for him, and so could give us letters of recommendation which would ensure us a passage to the low countries. Thus in the afternoon we were on the road making our way from Newport to cows in a new disguise, for which we had changed our clothes again, and now wore the common sail-address of blue. The clouds had returned after the rain, and the afternoon was wet and worse than the morning, so I shall not say anything of another weary and silent walk. We arrived on cow's-key by eight in the evening, and found the Cooper ready to make sail, and waiting only for the tide to set out. Her name was the Goedendroom, and she was a little larger than a Bonaventure, but had a smaller crew, and was not near so well found. Elsevier exchanged a few words with the captain, and gave him the landlord's letter, and after that they had at us come on board, but said nothing to us. We judged that we were best out of the way, so went below, and finding her laden deep, and even the cabin full of bales of wool, flung ourselves on them to rest. I was so tired and heavy with sleep, that my eyes closed almost before I was laying down, and never opened till the next morning was well advanced. I shall not say anything about our voyage or how we came safe to Chevenigan, because it had little to do with our story. Elsevier had settled that we should go to Holland, not only because the Cooper was waiting to sail there, for we might doubtless have found other boats before long to take us elsewhere, but also because he had learned at Newport that the Hague was the first market in the world for diamonds. This he told me after we were safe housed, a little tavern in the town, which was frequented by seamen, but those of the better class such as mates, and skippers of small vessels. Here we lay for several days, while Elsevier made such enquiries he could without waking suspicion as to who were the best dealers in precious stones, and the most able to pay a good price for a valuable jewel. It was lucky too for us that Elsevier could speak the Dutch language, not well indeed, but enough to make himself understood, and to understand others. When I asked him where he had learned it, he told me that he came of Dutch blood on his mother's side, and so got his name as Elsevier, and that he could once speak in Dutch as readily as in English, only that his mother dying when he was yet a boy he lost something of the facility. As the days passed the memory of that dreadful morning at Carriesbrook became dimmer to me, and my mind more cheerful or composed. I got the diamond back from Elsevier, and had it out many times both by day and by night, and every time it seemed more brilliant and wonderful than the last. Often of nights, after all the house was gone to rest, I would lock the door of the room and sit with a candle burning on the table, and turn the diamond over in my hands. It was, I have said, as big as a pigeon's egg or walnut, delicately cut and faceted all over, perfect and flawless, without speck or stain. And yet, for all it was so clear and colourless, there flew out from the depth in such flashes and sparkles of red, blue and green, as made my wonder whence these tints could come. Thus, while I sat and watched it, I would tell Elsevier's stories from the Arabian nights of wondrous jewels. Though I believed there never was a stone that the eagles bought up from the valley of diamonds, known, or any in the caliph's crown itself, that could sell this gem of ours. Sure, that at such times we talked much of the value that was to be put upon the stone, and what was likely to be got for it, but never could settle, not having any experience of such things. Only, I was sure that it must be worth thousands of pounds, and so sat and rubbed my hands, saying that though life was like a game of hazard and our throes had hitherto been bad enough, yet we have made something of this last. But all the while a strange change was coming over us both, and our parts seemed turned about, for whereas a few days before it was I who wished to fling the diamond away, feeling overwrought and heavy-hearted in that awful well who held me from it, now it was he that seemed to set little store by it, and I, to whom it was all in all. He seldom cared to look much of the jewel, and one night when I was praising it to him, spoke out, said not thy heart too much upon this stone, it is thine and thine to deal with, never a penny will I charge that we may get for it. Yet where I thou and reached great wealth with it, and so came back one day to moon-fleet, I would not spend it all on my own ends, but put aside a part to build the poor houses again, as men say Blackbeer meant to do with it. I did not know what made him speak like this, and was not willing, even infancy, to agree to what he counseled, for with that gem before me, lustrous, and all the brighter for lying on a rough deal-table, I could only think of the wealth it was to bring to us, and how I would most certainly go back one day to moon-fleet, and marry Grace. So I never answered Elsevier, but took the diamond and slipped it back in the silver locket, which still hung round my neck, for that was the safest place for it that we could think of. We spent some days in wandering round the time-making inquiries, and learnt that most of the diamond buyers lived near one another in a certain little street, whose name I have forgotten, but that the richest and best known of them was one Christian Alderbrand. He was a Jew by birth, but had lived all his life in the Hague, and besides having bought and sold some of the finest stones, was said to ask a few questions, and to trouble little whence stones came, so they were but good. Thus, after much thought and many changes of purpose, we chose this Alderbrand, and settled we would put the matter into the touch with him. We took an evening in late summer for our venture, and came to Alderbrand's house about an hour before sundown. I remember the place well, though I have not seen it for so long, and I would certainly never like to see it again. It was a low house of two stories, standing matter little from the street, with some wooden palings and a grass plot before it, and a stone-flagged path leading up to the door. The front of it was whitewashed with green shutters, and had a shiny-leaved magnolia trained round about the windows. These jewelers had no shops, though sometimes they set a single necklace or bracelet in a bottom window, but put up notices proclaiming their trade. Thus, there was over Alderbrand's drawer a board stuck out to say that he bought and sold jewels, and would lend money on diamonds or other valuables. A sturdy-serving man opened the door, and when he heard our business was to sell a jewel, left us in a stone-flawed hall or lobby, while he went upstairs to ask whether his master would see us. A few minutes later the stairs creaked, and Alderbrand himself came down. He was a little wise-and-demand with yellow skin and deep wrinkles, not less than seventy years old, and I saw he wore wore shoes of polished leather, silver buckled, and tilted heeled to add to his stature. He began to speak to us from the landing, not coming down to the hall, but leaning over the handrail. Well, my sons, what would you with me? I hear you have a jewel to sell, but you must know I do not purchase sailors flotsam. Soft as a moonstone, or cat's eye, or some pin-hitted diamonds, keep them to make brooches for your sweethearts, for Alderbrand buys no toys like that. He had a thin and squeaky voice and spoke to us in our own tongue, guessing no doubt that we were English from our faces. It was true he handled the language badly enough, yet I was glad he used it, for so I could follow all that was said. No toys like that! he said again, repeating his last words, and Elsevier answered, Amade, please, your worship, we are sailors from overseas, and this boy has a diamond that he would sell. I had the gem in my hand already, and when the old man squeaked peevishly, Out with it then, let's see, let's see! I reached it out to him. He stretched down over the banisters and took it, holding out his palm hollowed, as if it was some little paltry stone that might otherwise fall and be lost. It netled me to have him thus under radar treasure, even though he had never seen it, and so I plumped it down into his hand, as if it were as big as a pumpkin. Now the hall was a dim place, being lit only by a half-circle of glass over the door, and so I could not see very well, and in reaching down he brought his head near mine, and I could swear his face changed when he felt the size of the stone in his hand, and turned from impatience and contempt to wonder and delight. He took the jewel quickly from his palm, and held it up between finger and thumb, and when he spoke again, his voice was changed as well as his face, and had lost most of the sharp impatience. There is not light enough to see in this dark place, follow me! And he turned back and went upstairs rapidly, holding the stone in his hand, and weed close at his heels, being anxious not to lose sight of him, now that he had our diamond, for all he was so rich and well-known a man. Thus we came to another landing, and there he flung open the door of a room which looked out west, and had the light of the setting sun streaming in full flood through the window. The change from the dimness of the stairs to this level red blaze was so quick, but for a minute I could make out nothing. But turning my back to the window saw presently that the room was panelled all out through with painted wood, with a bed let into the wall on one side and shelves round the others, on which were many small covers and strong boxes of iron. The doula was sitting at a tip of with his face to the sun, holding the diamond up against the light, and gazing into it closely, that I could so I could see every working of his face. The hard and cunning look that had come back to it, and he turned suddenly upon me and asked quite sharply, What is your name by? When did you come? Now, I was not used to walk under false names, and he took me unaware, so I must need to blurt out, My name is John Trenshaw, sir, and I come from Moonfleet, endorse it. A second later I could have bitten off my tongue for having said as much, and saw Elsevier frowning at me to make me hold my peace. But it was too late then, for the merchant was writing down my answer in a little parchment linger. And they would seem to most but a little thing that he should thus take down my name and birthplace, and only vex us at the time, because we would not have known it at all whence we came. Yet in the overrulings of providence it was ordered, that this note, in Mr Alderbrown's book, should hereafter change the issue of my life. From Moonfleet endorse it, he repeated to himself as he finished writing my answer, and how did John Trenshaw come by this? And he tapped the damon as it lay on the table before him. Then Elsevier broke in quickly, fearing no doubt lest I should be betrayed into saying more. Nayser, we are not come to play at questions and answers, but to know whether your worship will buy this damon at what price. We have no time to tell long histories, and so I must only say that we are English sailors, and that the stone is fairly come by. And he let his fingers play with the damon on the table, as if he feared it might slip away from him. "'Softly, softly,' said the old man. All stones are fairly come by, but had you told me whence you got this, I might have spelled myself some tedious tests which now I must crave pardon for making.'  Then he sat down again, drew the damon gently from Elsevier's fingers, which were loathed to part with it, and began using his scales, balancing the damon carefully, now against a crystal, now against some small brass weights. I stood with my back to the sunset, watching the red light fall upon this old man, as he weighed the damon, rubbed it on the black stone, or let fall on it a drop of the liquor. And so could see the wonder and emotion fade from his face, and only hard craftiness left in it. I watched him meddling till I could bear to watch no longer, feeling a fierce feverish suspense as to what he might say, and my pulse beating so quick that I could scarce stand still. For was not the decisive moment very nigh when we should know from these parched-up lips the value of the jewel, and whether it was worth risking life for, whether the fabric of our hopes was built on shore foundation or on slippery sand? So I turned my back on the damon merchant, and looked out of the window, waiting all the while to catch the slightest word that might come from his lips. I found then, and at other times, that in such moments there the mind be occupied entirely by one overwhelming thought, yet the eyes take in, as it were unwittingly, all that lies before them, so that we can afterwards recall a face or landscape of which at the time we took no note. Thus it was with me that night, for there I was thinking of nothing but the jewel, yet I noted everything that could be seen through the window, and the recollection was of use to me later on. The window was made in the French style reaching down to the floor, and opening like a door with two leaves. It laid onto a little balcony, and now stood open, for the day was still very hot, and on the wall below was trained a pear tree which was half-embarred the balcony with its green leaves. The blinds inside and heavy shutters shot with iron on the outer wall, and there were besides strong bolts and sockets, from which ran certain wires, whose use I did not know. Below the balcony was a square garden plot, shut in with a brick wall, and kept very neat and trim. There were hollyhocks round the walls and many coloured poppies with many other shrubs and flowers. My hours fell on one especially a tall red blossom that rushy kind of flower that I had never seen before, and that seemed indeed to be something out of the common, for it stood in the middle of a little earth plot, and had the whole bed nearly to itself. I was looking at this flat, thinking of it, but wondering all the while whether Mr. Alderbaum would say the diamond was worth ten thousand pounds, or fifty or a hundred thousand, when I heard him speaking, and turned round quick. My sons, and you especially, son John, he said, and turned to me, this stone that you have brought to me is no stone at all, but glass, or rather paste, for so we call it. Not but what it is good paste, and perhaps the best that I have seen, and so I had to try it to make sure. Began as high chemic trists no sham can stand, and first it is too light in weight, and second rubbed on this basanos, or black stone, traces no line of white as any diamond must. But third and last I have tried it with a hermeneoctic proof, and dipped it in this most costly limbic, and the record remains pure green and clear, not turbid orange a diamond leaves it. As he spoke, the room spun round, and I felt the sickness and heart-sinking that comes with the sudden destruction of long cherished hope. So it was all a sham, a bit of glass for which we had risked our lives. Blackbeard had only mocked us, even in his death, and from which men we would become the poorest outcasts. And all the other bright fancies that had been built on this worstless thing fell down at once like a house of cards. There was no money now with which to go back rich to moon-fleet, no money to cloak past offences, no money to marry Grace. And with that I gave a sigh, and my knees failing should have fallen had not Elsevier held me. Nay, son John, squeak the old man, seeing I was so put about, take it not so hardly, for though this is but paste I say not, it is worthless. It is fine, workers, as if I have seen, and I will offer you ten silver crowns for it, which is a goodly sum for a sailor lad to have in hand, and more than all the other buyers in this town would bid you for it. Tush, tush, cried Elsevier, and I could hear the bitterness and disappointment in his voice, however much he tried to hide it. We are not come to beg for silver crowns, so keep them in your purse, and the devil take this shining sham. We are well good of it. There is a curse upon the thing. With that he caught up the stone, and flung it away out of the window in his anger. End of Chapter 16 Part 1, Recording by Simon Evers Chapter 16 Part 2 of Moonfleet This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Simon Evers Moonfleet by Jaymeet Faulkner Chapter 16 Part 2 This brought the diamond buyer to his feet in a moment.  Are you come here to beard me? And when I say the thing is worth ten silver crowns, do you fling it to the winds? I had sprung forward with a half-fort of catching Elsevier's arm, but it was too late. The stone flew up in the air, caught the low rays of the setting sun for a moment, and then fell among the flowers. I could not see it as it fell, yet to follow with my eyes the line in which it should have fallen, and thought I saw a glimmer where it touched the earth. It was only a flash or sparkle for an instant, just at the stem of that same rushy red-flowered plant, and then nothing more to be seen. But as I faced round, I saw the little man's eyes turned that way too, and perhaps he saw the flash as well as I. There's for you ten crowns, said Elsevier. Let us be going, lad. And he took me by the arm and marched me out of the room and down the stairs. Go, and a blight on you, says Mr. Alderbrand, his voice being not so high as when he cried out last but in his usual squeak, and then he repeated, a blight on you, just for a parting shot as he went through the door. We passed two more waiting men on the stairs, but they said nothing to us, and so we came to the street. We walked along together for some time without a word, and then Elsevier said, Cheer up, lad, cheer up. I said to myself, thou fierest, there was a curse on the thing. Tonight is gone, maybe you will well quit of it. Yet I could not say anything, being too much disappointed to find the diamond was a sham, and bitterly cast down at the loss of all our hopes. It was all very well to think there was a curse upon the stone so long as we had it and a feign that we were ready to part with it. But now it was gone. I knew that at heart I never wished to part with it at all, and would have risked any curse to have it back again. There was supper waiting for us when we got back, but I had no stomach for vitals and sat moodily while Elsevier ate, and he not much. But when I sat and brooded over what had happened, a new thought came to my mind, and I jumped up and cried, Elsevier, we are fools, the stone is no sham, it is a real diamond. He put down his knife and fork and looked at me, not saying anything, but waiting for me to say more, and yet did not show so much surprise as I expected. Then I reminded him how the old merchant's face was full of wonder and delight when first he saw the stone, which showed he thought it was real then, and how afterwards, though he schooled his voice to bring out long words to deceive us, he was ready enough to spring to his feet and shriek out loud when Elsevier threw the stone into the garden. I spoke fast, and in talking to him convinced myself, so when I stopped for wonder-breath I was quite sure that the stone was indeed a diamond, and that Alderbrand had adduped us. Still Elsevier showed little eagerness, and then he said, It is like enough that when you say it is true, but what would you have us do? The stone is flung away. Yes, I answer, but I saw where it fell, and know the very place. Let us go back now at once and get it. Do you not think that Alderbrand saw the place, too? asked Elsevier. And then I remembered how, when I turned back to the room after seeing the stone fall, I caught the eyes of the old merchant looking the same way. And how he spoke more quietly after that, and not with the bitter cry he used when Elsevier tossed the jewel out of the window. I do not know, I said doubtfully. Let us go back and see. It fell just by the stem of a red flower that I marked well. What! I added, seeing him still hesitate and draw back. Do you doubt? Shall we not go and get it? Still he did not answer for a minute, and then spoke slowly as if weighing his words. I cannot tell. I think that all you say is true and that this stone is real. No, I was half of that mind when I threw it away, and yet I would not say we are not best without it.  But now I cannot tell. For ever since we first scented this treasure, luck has run against us, John. Yes, run against us very strong. And here we are, flying from home, called out claws and with blood upon our hands. Not that blood frightens me, for I have stood to face to face with men in fair fight, and never felt a death blow given so way on my soul. But these two men came to a tricksy kind of end, and yet I could not help it. It is true that all my life I have served the contraband. But no man ever knew me to do a foul action. And now I do not like that men should call me felon, unlike it less. That they should curse thee, and call thee felon too. Perhaps there may be a lawsome curse that hangs about this stone, and leads to ruin those that handle it. I cannot say. For I am not a passant glenny in these things. But Blackbeard, in an evil mood, may have tied the treasure up to be a curse to any that use it for themselves. What do we want with this thing at all? I have got money to be touched at need. We may lay quiet to this side of the channel, where thou shall learn and on his trade. And when the mischief was blown over, we will go back to Moonfleet. So let the duel be, John. Shall we not let the duel be? He spoke earnestly, and most earnestly, at the end, taking me by the hand, and looking me fool in the face. But I could not look him back again, and turn my eyes away, for I was wilful, and would not bring myself to let the diamond go. In all the while I thought that what he said was true, and I remembered that sermon that Mr. Glenny preached, saying that life was like a why, and that to each comes a time when two ways part, and where he must choose whether he will take the broad and sloping road, or the steep and narrow path. So now I guessed that long ago I chosen the broad road, and now I was but walking farther down it in seeking after this evil treasure. And still I could not bear to give all up, and persuaded myself that it was a child's folly to madly fling away so fine a stone. So instead of listening to good advice from one so much older than me, I set to work to talk him over, and persuaded him that if we got the diamond again, and ever could sell it, we would give the money to build up the Mahune arms' houses. Knowing well in my heart, that I never meant to do any such thing. Thus at the last, Elsevier, who was the stubbornest of men, and never yielded, was over-born by his great love to me, and yielded here. It was ten o'clock before we set out together to go again to Alderbrand's, meaning to climb the garden wall and get the stone. I walked quickly enough, and talked all the time to silence my own misgivings, but Elsevier hung back a little and said nothing, for it was sorely against his judgment that he came at all. But as we neared the place I ceased my chatter, and so we went on in silence busy with his own thoughts. We did not come in front of Alderbrand's house, but turned out of the main street down a side lane which we guessed would skirt the garden wall. There were few people moving even in the streets, and in this little lane there was not a soul to meet as we crept along in the shadow of the high walls. We were not mistaken, for soon we came to what we judged was the outskide of Alderbrand's garden. Here we pause for a minute, and I believe Elsevier was for making a last remonstrance, but I gave him no chance, for I had found a place where some bricks were loosened in the wall-face, and set myself to climb. It was easy enough to scale for us, and in a minute we both dropped down in a bed of soft mould on the other side. We pushed through some goosebra bushes that caught the clothes, and distinguishing the outline of the house made that way. Then in a few steps we stood on the Palouse, or turf, which I had seen from the balcony three hours before. I knew the twirl of the walks and the pattern of the beds, the rank of hollyhocks that stood up all along the wall, and the poppies breathing out a faint sickly odour in the night. An utter silence held all the garden, and, the night being very clear, there was still enough light to show the colours of the flowers when one looked close at them, though the green of the leaves was turned to grey. We kept in the shadow of the wall, and looked expectantly at the house. But no murmur came from it. It might have been a house of the dead for any noise the living made there. Nor was there light in any window, except in one behind the balcony, to which our eyes were turned first. In that room there was some one not yet gone to rest, for we could see a lattice of light where a lamp shone through the open work of the wooden blinds. He is up still, I whispered, and the outside shutters are not closed. Else of you nodded, and then I made straight for the bed where the red flower grew. I had no need of any light to see the bells of that great rushy thing, for it was different from any of the rest, and besides that was planted by itself. I pointed it out to Elsevier. The stone lies by the stalk of that flower, I said, on the side nearest to the house. And then I stayed him with my hand upon his arm, that he should stand where he was at the bed's edge, while I stepped on and got the stone. My feet sank in the soft earth as I passed through the fringe of poppies circling the outside of the bed, and so I stood beside the tall rushy flower. The scarlet of its bells was almost black, but there was no mistaking it, and I stooped to pick the darmen up. Was it possible? Was there nothing for my outstretched hand to finger, except the soft, rich loam, and on the darkness of the ground no guiding sparkle? I knelt down to make more sure, and looked all round the plant, and still found nothing. There was light enough to see a pebble, much more to catch the gleam and flash of the great darmen I knew so well. It was not there, and yet I knew that I had seen it fall beyond all room for doubt. It is gone, Elsevier, it is gone! I cried out in anguish, but only heard a hush from him, to bid me not to speak so loud. Then I fell on my knees again, and sifted the mould through my fingers to make sure the stone had not sunk in and been overlooked. But it was all to no purpose, and at last I stepped back to where I was at the house, and at last I stepped back to where Elsevier was, and begged him to light a piece of match in the shelter of the hollyhocks, and I would screen it with my hands, so that the light should fall upon the ground, and not be seen from the house, and so search round the flower. He did as I asked, not because he thought that I should find anything, but rather to humour me. And as he put the lighted match into my hands, said, speaking low, Let the stone be, lad, let it be, for either that is to fail to mark the place right, or others have been here before thee. It is ruled we should not touch the stone again, and so it is best. Let be, let be, let us get home. He put his hand upon my shoulder gently, and spoke with such an earnestness and pleading in his voice, that one would have thought it was a woman, rather than a great rough giant. And yet I would not hear, and broke away, sheltering the match in my hollowed hands, and making back to the red flower. But this time, just as I stepped upon the mould, coming to the bed from the house side, the light fell on the ground, and there I saw something that brought me up short. It was but a dint or impress on the soft brown loam, and yet, before my eyes were well upon it, I knew it for the print of a sharp heel, a sharp deep heel, having just in front of it the outline of a little foot. There is a story every boy was given to read when I was young of Cruzé, wrecked upon a desert isle, who, walking one day on the shore, was staggered by a single footprint in the sand, because he learnt, thus, that there were savages in that sad place where he thought he stood alone. Yet I believe even that footprint in the sand was never greater blow to him than was this impress in the garden mould to me. For I remembered well the little shoes of polished leather with their silver buckles and high tilted heels. He had been there before us. I found another footprint, and another, leading towards the middle of the bed, and then I flung the match away, trampling the fire out in the soil. It was no use searching farther now, for I knew well there was no diamond here for us. I stepped back to the lawn, and caught Elsevier by the arm. Alderbrand has been here before us and stole away the jewel. I whispered sharp, and looking wildly round in the still night, saw the lattice of lamp-light shining to the wooden blinds of the balcony window. Well, there's an end of it, said he, and we are saved further question.  Say he turned to go back, and there was one more chance for me to choose the better way and go with him. But still I could not give the jewel up, and must go farther on the other path which led to ruin for us both. For I had my eyes fixed on the light coming through the blinds of that window, and saw how thick and strong the boughs of the pear tree were trained against the wall about to the balcony. Elsevier, I said, swallowing the bitter disappointment which rose in my throat. I cannot go till I have seen what is doing in that room above. I would climb to the balcony and look in through the chinks. Perhaps he is not there, perhaps he has left our diamond there, and we may get it back again. So I went straight to the house, not giving him time to raise a word to stop me, for there was something in me driving me on, and I was not to be stopped by any one from that purpose. There was no need to fear any seeing us. For all the windows except that one were tight shuttered, and though our footsteps on the soft lawn woke no sound, I knew that Elsevier was following me. It was no easy task to climb the pear tree, for all that the boughs looked so strong, for they laid close against the wall and gave little hold for hand or foot. Twice or more an unripe pair was broken off and fell rustling down through the leaves to earth, and I paused and waited to hear if any one was disturbed in the room above. But all was deathly still, and at last I got my hand upon the parapet, and so came safe to the balcony. I was panting from the hard climb, yet did not wait to get my breath, but made straight for the window to see what was going on inside. The outer shutters were still flung back, as there had been in the afternoon, and there was no difficulty in looking in, for I found an opening in the lattice-blind just leveled with my eyes, and could see all the room inside. It was well lit, as for a marriage feast, and I think there were a score of candles or more burning in holders on the table or in sconces on the wall. At the table, on the farther side of it away from me, and facing the window, sat Alderbrand, just as he sat when he told us the stone was a sham. His face was turned towards the window, and as I looked full at him, it seemed impossible but that he should know that I was there. In front of him on the table lay the diamond, our diamond, my diamond, for I knew it was a diamond now and not false. It was not alone, but had a dozen more cut gems lay beside it on the table, each a little apart from the other, yet there was no mistaking mine, which was thrice as big as any of the rest. And if it surpassed them in size, how much more did it excel in fierceness and sparkle? All the candles in the room were mirrored in it, and as the splendour flashed from every line and facet that I knew so well, it seemed to call to me, Am I not queen of all diamonds of the world? Am I not your diamond? Would you not take me to yourself again? Would you save me from this sorry trickster? I had my eyes fixed, but still knew that Elsevier was beside me. He would not let me risk him myself in any hazard alone without he stood by me himself to help me in case of need. Yet his faithfulness but galled me now, and I asked myself with a sneer, Am I never to stir hand or foot without this man to dog me? The merchant sat still for a minute as though thinking, and then he took one of the diamonds that lay on the table, and then another, and set them close beside the great stone, pitting them as it were with it. Yet how could any match with that? For it outshone them all, as the sun outshines the stars in heaven. Then the old man took the stone and weighed it in the scales which stood on the table before him, balancing it carefully, and a dozen times against some little weights of brass. And then he wrote with pen and ink in a sheepskin book, and afterwards on a sheet of paper as though casting up numbers. What would I have not given to see the figures that he wrote? Or was he not casting up the value of the jewel and summing up the profits he would make? After that he took the stem between finger and thumb, holding it up before his eyes, and placing it now this way, now that, so that the light might best fall on it. I could have cursed him for the wandering love of that fair jewel that overspread his face, and cursed him ten times more for the smile upon his lips, because I guessed he laughed to think how he had duped two simple sailors that very afternoon. There was the Darmond in his hands, our Darmond, my Darmond, in his hands, and I bet two yards from my own, only a flimsy veil of wooden glass to keep me from the treasure he had basely stolen from us. Then I felt Elsevier's hand upon my shoulder. Let us be going, he said, a minute more, and he may come to put these shutters to and find us here. Let us be going! Darmond is not for simple folk like us. This is an evil stone and brings curse with it. Let us be going, John!  For just now the man at the table rose and took out a little iron box from a cupboard at the back of the room. I knew that he was going to lock my treasure into it, and that I should see it no more. But the great jewel lying lonely on the table flashed and sparkled in the light of twenty candles and called to me. Am I not queen of all Darmonds of the world? Am I not your Darmond? Save me from the hands of this scurvy robber! Then I hurled myself forward with all my weight full on the joining of the window frames, and in a second crashed through the glass and through the wooden blind into the room behind.  But I cared neither for bells nor whars, for there lay the great jewel flashing before me. The merchant had turned sharp round at the crash and darted for the Darmond, crying, Thieves! Thieves! Thieves! He was nearer to it than I, and as I dashed forward our hands met across the table with his underneath upon the stone. But I gripped him by the wrist, and though he struggled he was but a weak old man, and in a few seconds I had it twisted from his grasp. In a few seconds, before they were passed, the Darmond was well in my hand, the door burst open, and in rush six sturdy serving men with staves and bludgeons. Elsevier had given a little groan when he saw me forth the window, but followed me into the room that was now at my side. Thieves! Thieves! Thieves! screamed the merchant, falling back exhausted in his chair and pointed to us, and then the knaves fell on just too quick for us to make for the window. Two sit on me and four on Elsevier, and one man, even a giant, cannot fight with four, above all when they carry staves. Never had I seen Master Block overborn or worsted by any lords, and fortune was kind to me, at least in this, that she let me not see the issue then, for a staff caught me so round a knock on the head as made the Darmond drop out of my hand, and laid me, swooning on the floor. End of Chapter 16 Recording by Simon Evers Chapter 17 of Moonfleet This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Simon Evers Moonfleet by J. Mead Faulkner Chapter 17 Atty Imeguin As if a thief should steal a tainted vest, some dead man's spoil, and sicken of his pest. Hood. Tis bitterer to me than Wyrmwood, the memory of what followed, and I shall tell the story in the fewest words I may. We were cast into prison, and lay there for months in a stone cell with little light, and only foul straw to lie on. At first we were cut and bruised from that tussle and cuddling in Alderbrand's house, and it was long before we were recovered of our wounds, for we had nothing but bread and water to live on, and that so bad as barely to hold body and soul together. Afterwards the heavy fetters that were put about our ankles set up sores and galled us so that we scarce could move for pain, and of the iron galled my flesh. My spirit chafed ten times more within those damp and dismal walls. Yet all that time Elzevir never breathed a word of reproach, though as my wilfulness had led us into so terrible a strait. At last came our jailer one morning, and said that we must be brought up that day before the Gerect, which is their court of assays, to be tried for our crime. So we were marched off to the courthouse, in spite of sores and heavy arms, and were glad enough to see the daylight once more and drink the open air, even though it should be to our death that we were walking, for the jailer said they were like to hang us for what we had done. In the courthouse our business was soon over, because there were many to speak against us, but none to plead our cause, and all being done in the Dutch language I understood nothing of it, except what Elzevir told me afterwards. There was Mr Alderbrand in his black gown and buckled shoes with tip-tilted heels, standing at a table and giving evidence, how that one afternoon in August came to evil-looking English sailors to his house under pretence of sending a diamond, which turned out to be but a lump of glass, and that having taken observation of all his dwelling, and more particularly the approaches to his business room, they went their ways. But later in the same day, or rather night, as he sat matching together certain diamonds for a coronet ordered by the most illustrious, the Holy Roman Emperor, these same ill-favoured English sailors burst suddenly through shutters and window and made forcible entry into his business room.  But by the good providence of God and his own foresight, the window was fitted with a certain alarm which rang bells in other parts of the house. Thus his trusty servants were summoned, and after being themselves attacked and nearly over-born, succeeded at last in mastering these scurvy ruffians and handing them over to the law, from which Mr. Alderbrand claimed sovereign justice. Thus much, Elsevier explained to me afterwards. But at that time, when that pretender spoke of the diamond as being his own, Elsevier cut in and said in open court that it was a lie, and that his precious stone was none other than the one that we had offered in the afternoon, and Alderbrand had said was glass. Then the diamond merchant laughed, and took from his purse our great diamond, which seemed to fill the place with light, and dazzled half the court. He turned it over in his hand, poising it in his palm like a great flourishing lamp of light, and asked if it was likely that two common sailor men should hawk a stone like that, and any more, that the court might know what daring rogues they had in the morning, the court might know what daring rogues they had to deal with. He pulled out from his pocket the quittance given him by Shulamoth the Jew of Petersburg for this same jewel, and showed it to the judge. Whether it was a forged quittance or one for some other stone, we knew not. But Elsevier spoke again, saying that the stone was ours, and we had found it in England. When Mr. Alderbrand laughed again, and held the jewel up once more, where such pebbles he asked found on the shore by every squalid fisherman, and the great diamond flashed as he put it back into his purse, and cried to me, Am I not queen of all the diamonds of the world? Must I house with this base rascal? But I was powerless now to help. After Alderbrand the serving men gave witness, telling how they had trapped us in the act red-handed, and as for this jewel they had seen their master handle it any time in these past six months. But Elsevier was galled to the quick with all their falsehoods, and burst out again that they were liars and the dual ours, till a jailer who stood by struck him on the mouth and cut his lip to silence him. The process was soon finished, and the judge in his red robe stood up and sentenced us to the galleys for life, bidding us of mar the mercy of the law to outlanders for, had we been but Dutchmen we should sure have hanged. Then they took and marched us out of court, as well as we could walk for fetters, and Elsevier with a bleeding mouth. But as we passed the place where Alderbrand sat, he bows to me and says in English, You're servant, Mr. Threnchyard, I wish you a good day, Sir John Threnchyard, of Moonfleet in Dosset. The jailer parsed a moment, hearing Alderbrand speak to us, they're not understanding what he said. So I had time to answer him. Good days are Alderbrand's liar and thief, and may the Dharma bring you evil in this present life and damnation in that which is to come. So we parted from him, and at the same time departed from our liberty, and from all joys of life. We were fettered together with other prisoners in droves of six, our wrists manacled to a long bar, but I was put into a different gang from Elsevier. Thus we marched a ten-days journey into the country to a place called Imeguen, where a royal fortress was building. That was a weary march for me, for it was January with wet and marry roads, and I had little enough clothes upon my back to keep off rain and cold. On other side rode guards on horseback with loaded flint-locks across the saddle-bow, and long whips in their hands with which they let fly at any laggard. Though it was hard enough for men to walk where the mud was over the horse's fetlocks. I had no chance to speak to Elsevier all the journey, and indeed spoke nothing at all, for those to whom I was chained were brute beasts rather than men, and spoke only in Dutch to boot. There was but little of the buildings of the fortress begun when we reached Imeguen, and the tasks that we were set to was the digging of the trenches and other earthworks. I believe that the war was not enough to I believe that there were five hundred men employed in this way, and all of them condemned like us to galley-work for life. We were divided into squads of twenty-five, but Elsevier was drafted to another squad on a different part of the workings, so I saw him no more except at odd times, now and again, when our gangs met, and we could exchange a word or two in passing. Thus I had no solace of any company but my own, and was driven to thinking, and to occupy my mind with the recollection of the past. And at first the life of my boyhood, now lost forever, was constantly present even in my dreams, and I would wake up thinking that I was at school again under Mr. Lenny, or talking in the summer house with Grace, or climbing where the beach hill with the salt-channel breeze singing through the trees. But alas, these things faded when I opened my eyes, and knew the foul-smelling wood hut and floor of fetid straw, where fifty of us lay in fetters every night. I say I dreamt these things at first, but by degrees remembrance grew blunted, and the images less clear, and even these sweet, sad visions of the night came to me less often. Thus life became a weary round, in which month followed month, season followed season year followed year, and brought always the same eternal, profitless work. And yet the work was merciful, for it dulled the biting edge of thought, and the unchanging evenness of life gave wings to time. In all the years the locals said for me at Emenguin, there is but one thing I need to speak of here. I'd been there a week when I was loosed one morning from my aunt's, and taken from work into a little hut apart, where there stood a half-dozen of the guard, and in the midst a stout wooden chair with clamps and bands.  My heart misgave me when I saw that chair and fire, and smelt that sickly smell, for I guessed this was a torture-room, and these the torturers waiting. They forced me into the chair and bound me there with lashings and a cramp about the head, and then one took a red hunn from the fire upon the floor, and tried it a little way from his hands to prove the heat. I'd screwed up my heart to bear the pain as best I might, but when I saw that iron sighed for sheer relief, because I knew it for only a branding tool, and not the torture. And so they branded me on the left cheek, setting the arm between the nose and cheekbone that was plainest to be seen. I took the pain and scorching light enough, seeing that I'd looked for much worse, and should not have made mention of the thing here at all, were it not for the branding mark they used. Now this mark was a Y, being the first letter of E. M. McGowan, and set on all the prisoners that worked there, as I found afterwards. But to me it was much more than a mere letter, and nothing less than the black Y itself, or cross-pole of the Mahoons. Thus as a sheep is marked with his own as keel, and can be claimed wherever he may be, so here was I branded with the keel of the Mahoons, and marked for theirs in life or death, with or so ever I should wonder. It was three months after that, and the mark healed and well set, that I saw Elsevier again. And as we passed each other in the trench and called a greeting, I saw that he too bore the cross-pole full on his left cheek. Thus years went on, and I was grown from boy to man, and that no weak one, either, for though they gave us but scant food and bad, the air was fresh and strong, because E. M. McGowan was meant for palace as well as fortress, and they chose a healthful sight. And by degrees the motes were dug, and ramparts built, and stone by stone the castle rose till it was near the finish, and so our labour was not wanted. Every day squads of our fellow prisoners marched away, and my gang was left till nearly last, being engaged in making good a culvert that heavy rains had broken down. It was in the tenth year of our captivity, and in the twenty-sixth of my age, that one morning, instead of the guard marching us to work, they handed us over to a party of mounted soldiers, from whose match-locks and long whips I knew that we were going to leave E. M. McGowan. Before we left, another gang joined us, and how my heart went out when I saw Elsevier among them. It was two years or more since we had met, even to pass a greeting, for I worked outside the fortress, and he on the great tower inside.  And as for the cross-pawl on his cheek, I never thought of it at all, for we were also well used to the mark, to that one bore it, not stamped upon his face, we should have stared at him as on a man born with but one eye. But though his look was sad, yet Elsevier had a kind smile and hearty greeting for me as he passed, and on the march, when they served out our food, we got a chance to speak a word or two together. Yet how could he find room for much gladness, for even the pleasure of meeting was marred, because we were forced thus to take notice of where of each other's misery, and to know that the one had nothing for his old age but to break in prison, and the other, nothing but the prison to eat away the strength of his prime. Before long, all knew whither we were brown, for it leaked out we were to march to the Hague, and thence to Scheveningen, to take ship to the settlements of Java, where they used transported felons on the sugar-farms.  Hopes of grace, hopes of seeing Moonfleet again were dead long, long ago. And now was there to be no hope of liberty, or even wholesome air, this side of the grave, but only burning sun and steaming swamps, and the crack of the slave-driver's whip till the end came. Could it be so? Could it be so? And yet what help was there, or what release? Had I not watched ten years for any gleam or loophole of relief and never found it? If we were shut in cells or dungeons in the deepest rock we might have schemed escape. But here, in the open, fatted up in droves, what could we do? They were bitter thoughts enough that filled my heart as I trudged along the rough roads, fatted by by wrists to the long bar, and seeing Elsevier's white hair and bowed shoulders trudging in front of me, remembered when that head had scarcer grizzled on it, and the back was straight as the massive stubborn pillars in old Moonfleet Church. What was it that brought us to this pitch? And then I called to mind, a July evening, years ago, the twilight summer-house under sweet grave-voice that said, Have I care how you touch the treasure? It was evilly come by, and will bring a curse with it. Aye, it was the Dharma to done it all, and brought a blight upon my life, since that first night I spent in Moonfleet Vault.  We marched back to the Hague, and through that very street where Alderbrand dealt, only the house was shut, and the boar, the boar his name, taken away. So it seemed that he had left the place, or else was dead. Thus we reached the keys at last. And though I knew that I was leaving Europe, and leaving all hope behind, it was a delight to smell the sea again, and fill my nostrils with the keen salt air. The ship that was to Karius swung at the boy a quarter of a mile offshore, and there were row-boats waiting to take us to her. She was a brig of some hundred-and-twenty-tons-burthen, and as we came under the stern, I saw her name was the Orangzeba. Tossed with regret unspeakable, I took my last look at Europe, and, casting my eyes round, saw the smoke of the town dark against the darkening sky. Yet knew that neither smoke nor sky was half as black as was the prospect of my life. They sent us down to the Orlop, or lowest deck, a foul place where there was no air nor light, and shut the hatches down on top of us. There were thirty of us all told, hustled and driven like pigs into this deck, which was to be our pigsty for six months or more. Here was just light enough, when they had the hatches off, to show us what sort of place it was, namely, as foul did it smelt, with never table, seat, nor anything but roughest planks and bulks. And there they changed our bonds, taking away the bar, and putting a tight bracelet round run wrist, with a padlocked chain running through a loop on it. Thus we were still armed, six together, but had a greater freedom and more scope to move. And more than this, the man who shifted to the chains, whether through Caprice or perhaps because he really wished to show us what pity he might, padlocked me onto the same chain with Elsevier, saying, we were English swine and might sink or swim together. Then the hatches were put on, and there they left us in the dark to think, or sleep, or curse the time away. The weariness of Ymenguin was bad indeed, and yet it was a heaven to this night of hell, where all we had to look for was twice a day the moving of the hatches, and half an hour's glimmer of a ship's lantern, while they served us out of the broken vitals that the Dutch crew would not eat. I shall say nothing of the foulness of this place, because it was too foul to be written on paper, and if it was foul at starting, it was ten times worse when we reached open sea. For of all the prisoners, only Elsevier and I were sailors, and the rest took the motion unkindly. From the first we made bad weather of it, for though we were below and could see nothing, yet it was easy enough to tell there was a heavy head-sea running, almost as soon as we were out of the harbour. Although Elsevier and I had not had any chance of talking freely for so long, and were now able to speak as we liked, being linked so close together, we said but little. And this, not because we did not value very greatly one another's company, but because we had nothing to talk of except memories of the past, and those were too bitter, and came too readily to our minds to need any to summon them. There was, too, the banishment from Europe, from all and everything we loved, and the awful certainty of slavery that lay continuously on us like a weight of lead. Thus we said little. We'd been out a week, I think, for time is difficult enough to measure whether it is neither clock nor sun nor stars, when the weather, which had moderated a little, began to grow much worse. The ship plunged and laboured heavily, and this added much to our discomfort because there was nothing to hold on by, and unless we lay flat on the filthy deck we ran a risk of being flung to the side whenever there came a more violent lurch or roll. Though we were so deep down, yet the roaring of wind and wave was loud enough to reach us, and there was such a noise when the ship went about, such grinding of ropes, with creaking and groaning of timbers, as would make a lanceman fear the break was going to pieces. And this some of our fellow prisoners feared indeed, and felt a crying or kneeling chained together as they were upon the sloping deck, while they tried to remember long forgotten prayers. For my own part, I wondered why these poor wretches should pray to be delivered from the sea, when all that was before them was lifelong slavery. But I was perhaps able to look more calmly on the matter myself, as having been at sea, and not thinking that the vessel was going to founder because of the noise. Yet the storm rose till twas very plain that we were in a raging sea, and the streams which began to trickle through the joinings of the hatch showed that water had got below. I've known better ships go under for less than this, Elsevier said to me, and if our skipper hath not a tight craft and stout hands to worker, there will soon be two score slaves the less to cut the canes in java. I cannot guess where we are now, maybe off for shant, maybe not so far, for this sea is too short for the bay. But the saints send a serum for we've been wearing these three hours. It was true enough that we had gone to wearing, as one might tell from the heavier roll or wallowing when we went round instead of the plunging of attack. But there was no chance of getting it our whereabouts. The only thing we had to reckon time with all was the taking off of the hatch twice a day for food. And even this poor clock kept not the hour too well. For often there were such gaps and intervals as made our bellies pine, and at this present we had waited so long that I craved even that filthy broken meat they fed us with. So we were glad enough to hear a noise at the hatch just as Elsevier had done speaking, and the cover was flung off, letting in a splash of salt water and a little dim and dusky light. But instead of the guard with their muskets and lanterns and the tubs of broken vitals, there was only one man, and that the jailer who had padlocked us into gangs at the beginning of the voyage. He bent down for a moment over the hatch, holding on to the combing to steady himself in the sea-way, and flung a key on a chain down into the aulop right among us. Take it, he shouted in Dutch, and make the most of it, God helps the brave, and the devil takes the hindmost. That said, he stayed not one moment, but turned about quick and was gone. For an instant none knew what this play portended, and there was the key lying on the deck, and the catch left open. Then Elsevier saw what it all meant, and seized the key. John, Christy, speaking to me in English, the ship is foundering, and they are giving us a chance to save our lives and not drown like rats in a trap. With that he tried the key on the padlock, which held our chain, and it fitted so well that in a trice our gang was free. Off fell the chain, clanking on to the floor, and nothing left of our bonds, but an iron bracelet clamped round the left wrist. You may be sure the others were quick enough to make use of the key when they knew what was, but we waited not to see more, but made for the ladder. Now Elsevier and I, being used to the sea, were first through the hatchway above, and oh, the strength and sweet coolness of the sea air, instead of the warm, fetid reek of the aulop below. There was a good deal of water sowsing about on the main deck, but nothing to show the ship was sinking, yet none of the crew was to be seen. We stayed there not a second, but moved to the companion as fast as we could for the heavy pitching of the ship, and so came on deck. The dusk of a winter's evening was sitting in, yet with ample light to see near at hand, and the first thing I perceived was that the deck was empty, there was not a living soul but us upon it. The brig was broached, too, with her bows against the heaviest sea I ever saw, and the waves swept her for and aft, so we made for the tail of the deck-house, and there took stock. But before we got there, I knew why, twas the crew were gone, and why they let us loose, for Elsevier pointed to something wither we were drifting, and shouted in my ear so that I heard it above all the raging of the tempest. We are on a lee shore!  There were tattered ribbons fluttering on the yards to show where the sails had been blown away, and every now and then the stasile would flap like a gun going off, to show it wanted to follow them. But for all we lay head to sea we were moving backwards, and each great wave as we passed carried us on stern first with a leap and swirling lift. It was over the stern that Elsevier pointed in the course that we were going, and there was such a mist up with the wind and rain and spin drift, that one could but see a little way. And yet I saw too far, from the mist to which we were making a sternboard, I saw a white line like a fringe or valence to the sea, and then I looked to starboard, and there was the same white fringe, and then to larboard, and the white fringe was there too. Only those who know the sea know how terrible were Elsevier's words uttered in such a place. A moment before I was exalted with the keen salt wind, and with the hope and freedom that had been strangers for long. But now it was all dashed, and death, that is so far off to the young, had moved nearer by fifty years, was moving a year nearer every minute. We are on a lee shore, Elsevier shouted, and I looked and knew what the white fringe was, and that we should be in the breakers in half an hour. What a whirl of wind and wave and sea! What a whirl of thought and wild conjecture! What was that land to which we were drifting? Was it cliff, with deep water and iron face, where a good ship is shattered at a blow, and death comes like a thunder-trap? Or was it shelving sand, where there is stranding, and the pound, pound, pound of the waves for hulls, before she goes to pieces, and all is over? We were in a bay, for there was the long white crescent of surf, reaching far away on either side, till it was lost in the dusk, and the brig helpless in the midst of it. Elsevier had held of my arm, and gripped it hard, as he looked to L'Arbid. I followed his eyes, and where one horn of the white crescent faded into the mist, caught a dark shadow in the air, and knew it was high land looming behind. And then the murk and driving rain lifted ever so little, and as it were only for that purpose, and we saw a misty bluff slope down into the shee, like the long head of a basking alligator poised upon the water, and stared into each other's eyes, and cried together, The Snout! It vanished almost before it was seen, and yet we knew there was no mistake. It was the Snout that was there looming behind the moving rack, and we were in Moonfleet Bay.  We were so near to all we loved, so near only a mile of broken water, and yet so far for death lay between, and we had come back to Moonfleet to die. There was a change came over Elsevier's features when he saw the Snout. His face had lost its sadness, and wore a look of sober happiness. He put his mouth close to my ear, and said, There is some strange leading hand has brought us home at last, and I'd rather drown on Moonfleet Beach than live in prison any more, and drown we must within an hour. Yet we will play the man and make a fight for life. And then, as if gathering together all his force, we have weathered bad times together, and who knows, but we shall weather this. The other prisoners were on deck now, and had found their way aft. They were wild with fear, being landsmen, and never having seen an angry sea, and indeed that sea might have frighted sailors, too. So they stumbled along, drenched with the waves, and clustered round Elsevier, for they looked on him as a leader, because he knew the ways of the sea, and was the only one left calm in this dreadful strait. It was plain that when the Dutch crew found they were in bade, and that the ship must drift into the breakers, they'd taken to the boats, for gig and jolly boat were gone, and only the pinnish left amid ships. It was too heavy a boat perhaps for them to have got out into such a fearful sea, but there it lay, and it was to that the prisoners turned their eyes. Some had hold of Elsevier's arms, some fell upon the deck, and caught him by the knees, beseeching him to show them how to get the pinnish out. Then he spoke out, shouting to make them here, Friends, any man that takes to boat is lost. I know this bay, and know this beach, and was indeed born hereabouts, but never knew a boat to come to land in such a sea, save bottom up most. So if you want my counsel, there you have it, namely, to stick by the ship. In half an hour we shall be in the breakers, and I will put the helm up, and try to head the brig-bars on to the beach. So every man will have a chance to fight for his own life, and God have mercy on those that drown. I knew what he said was the truth, and there was nothing for it but to stick to the ship, though there was small chance enough. But those poor, fear-demented souls would have nothing of his advice now it was given, and must need go for the boat. Then some came up from below who had been in the spirit-room, and were full of drink, and drink courage, and heartened by the sea. Indeed, fate seemed to point to them that road, for a heavier sea than any came on board, and cleared away a great piece of labored bullocks that had been working loose, and made, as it were, a clear launching-way for the boat. Again did Elsevier try to prevail with them to stand by the ship, but they turned away, and all made for the pinnace. It lay amidships, and boarded the ship, and the ship was in the middle of the sea, and was a heavy boat enough, but with so many hands to help, they got it to the broken bullocks. Then Elsevier, seeing they would have it out at any price, showed them how to take advantage of the sea, and shifted the helm a little till the Aurangzebe fell off to labored, and put the gap in the bullocks on the lee. So in a few minutes, there it lay at a rope's end on the sheltered side, deep laden with thirty men, who were ill-found with oars, and much worse found with skill to use them. There were one or two before they left, shouted to Elsevier and me to try to make us follow them. Partly, I think, because they really liked Elsevier, and partly that they might have a sailor in the boat to direct them. But the others cast off, and left us with a curse, saying that we might go and drown for obstinate Englishmen. So we too were left alone on the brig, which kept drifting backward slowly. But the pinnace was soon lost to sight, and we saw that they were rowing wild as soon as she passed out of the shelter of the ship, and that they had much ado to keep her head to the sea. Then Elsevier went to the kicking-wheel and beckoned me to help him, and between us we put the helm hard up. I saw then that he'd given up all hope of the wind shifting, and was trying to run her dead for the beach. She was broached too with her bows in the wind, but gradually paid off as the stacel filled, and so she headed straight for shore. The November night had fallen, and it was very dark, only the white fringe of the breakers could be seen, and grew plainer as we drew closer to it. The wind was blowing fiercer than ever, and the waves broke more fiercely nearer the shore. They had lost their dirty yellow colour when the light died, and were rowing after us like great black mountains, with a combing white top that seemed as if they must overwhelm us every minute. Twice they pooped us, and we were up to our wastes in icy water, but still held on to the wheel for our lives. The white line was nearer to us now, and above all the rage of wind and sea, I could hear the awful roar of the undertow sucking back the pebbles on the beach. The last time I could remember hearing that roar was when I lay, as a boy, one summer's night twixed sleep and waking in the little whitewashed bedroom at my aunt's. And I wondered now if any sat before their inland hearths this night, and hearing that far distant roar would throw another log on the floor, and thank God they were not fighting for their lives in Moonfleet Bay. I could picture all that was going on this night on the beach. Heratzee and the landers would have sighted the Aurangzebi, perhaps at noon, perhaps before, and knew she was in Bade, and nothing could save her but the wind drawing to east. But the wind would hold pinned in the south, and they would see sail after sail blown off her, and watch her wear and wear, and every time come nearer in. And the talk could run through the street, that there was a ship could not weather the snout, a must come ashore by sundown. Then half the village would be gathered on the beach, with the men ready to risk their lives for ours, and in no wise wishing for the ship to be wrecked. Yet anxious not to lose their chance of booty, if Providence should rule that wrecked she must be. And I knew Ratsy would be there, and Damon, Tewkesbury, and Laver, and like enough Plars and Lenny, and perhaps, and at that perhaps my thoughts came back to where we were, for I heard Elsevier speaking to me. Look, he said, there's a light! It was but the faintest twinkle, or not even that, only something that told there was a light behind drift and darkness. He grew clearer as he looked at it, and again was lost in the murk. And then Elsevier said, Maskew's match! It was a long forgotten name that came to me from so far off, down such long alleys of the memory that I had, as it were, to grope and grapple with it to know what it should mean. Then it all came back, and I was a boy again on the trawler, creeping shorewards in the light breeze of an August night, and watching that friendly twinkle from the man of woods above the village. Had she not promised she would keep that lamp alight to guide all sailors every night till I came back again? Was she not waiting still for me, or was I not coming back to her now?  No more a boy, not on an August night, but broken branded convict in the November Gale. It was well indeed there was between us that white fringe of death that you might never see what I had fallen to. It was likely Elsevier had something of the same thoughts, for he spoke again, forgetting perhaps that I was a man now, a no longer boy, and using a name he had not used for years. Johnny, he said, I am cold and sore downhearted. In ten minutes we shall be in the surf. Go down to the spirit locker, drink thyself, and bring me up a bottle here. We shall both need a young man's strength, and I have not got it any more. I did as he bid me, and found the locker, though the cabin was all a wash, and having drunk myself, took in the bottle back. It was Good Holland's enough, being from the captain's own store, but nothing to the old arorat milk of the why-not. Elsevier took a pull at it, and then flung the bottle away. To his sound liquor he laughed, and Good for autumn chills, as Ratsey would have said. We were very near the white fringe now, and the waves followed us higher and more curling. Then there was a sickly one glow that spread itself through the watery air in front of us, and I knew that they were burning a blue light on the beach. They would all be there waiting for us, though we could not see them, and they did not know that there were only two men that they were signalling to, and those two, moonfleet-born. They burned that light in Moonfleet Bay, just where a little streak of clay crops out beneath the pebbles, and if their vessel can make that spot, she gets a soft bottom. So we put the wheel over a bit, and set her straight for the flare. There was a deafening noise as we came near the shore, the shrieking of the wind and the rigging, the crash of the combing seas, and overall the awful grinding roar of the undertow sucking down the pebbles. It is coming now, as Avere said, and I could see dim figures moving in the misted layer from the blue light, and then, just as the Aurangzebi was making fare for the signal, a monstrous combing sea pooped her, and washed us both from the wheel forward in a swirling flood. We grasped at anything we could, and so brought up a bruised and half-drowned in the four chains. But as the wheel ran free, another sea struck her, and slewed her round. There was a second, while the water seemed over, under, and on every side. And then the Aurangzebi went broadside on Moonfleet Beach, with a noise like thunder, and a blow that stunned us. I have seen ships come ashore in that same place before and since, and bump on and off with every wave, till the stout bulks could stand the pounding no more and parted. But it was not so with our paw-brick, for after that first fearful shock she never moved again, being flung so firm upon the beach by one great swamping wave, that never another had power to uproot her.  And then her masts broke off, first the four, and then the main, with a splitting crash that made itself heard above all. We were on the leeside underneath the shelter of the deck-house, clinging to the shrouds, now up to our knees in water as the wave came on, now left high and dry when it went back. The blue light was still burning, but the ship was beached a little to the right of it, and the dim group of fishermen had moved up along the beach till they were opposite us. Thus we were but a hundred feet distant from them, but was the interval of death and life, for between us and the shore was a maddened race of seething water, white foaming waves that leapt up from all sides against our broken bulks, or sucked back the pebbles with a grinding roar till they left the beach nearly dry. We stood there for a minute, hanging on and waiting for resolution to come back to us after the shock of grounding. On the weatherside the sea struck and curled over the brig with a noise like thunder, and the force of countless tons. They came over the top of the deck-house in a cataract of solid water, and there was a crash, crash, crash of rending wood, as plank after plank gave way before that stern assault. We could feel the deck-house itself quiver and shake again as we stood with our backs against it, and at last it moved so much that we knew it must soon be washed over on us. The moment had come.  They will throw us a rope-send to catch. So now goodbye, John, and God save us both. I wrung his hand and took off my convict's clothes, keeping my boots on to meet the pebbles, and was so cold that I almost longed for the surf. Then we stood waiting side by side till a great wave came in, turning the space-twixt ship and shore into a boiling cauldron. A minute later it was all sucked back again with a roar, and we jumped. I fell on hands and feet where the water was a yard deep under the ship, but got my footing and floundered through the slop, in a desperate struggle to climb as high as might be on the beach before the next wave came in. I saw the string of men lashed together and reaching down as far as man might to save any that came through the surf, and heard them shout to cheer us, and mark the coil of rope flung out. Elsevier was by my side and saw it too, and we both kept our feet and plunged forward through the quivering slack water. But then there came an awful thunder behind, the crash of the sea over the wreck, and we knew that another mountain wave was on our heels. It came in with a swishing roar, a rush and rise of furious water that swept us like corks up the beach till we were within touch of the rope-send, and the men shouted again to hearten us as they flung it out. Elsevier seized it with his left hand and reached out his right to me. Our fingers touched, and in that very moment the wave fell instantly with an awful suck, and I was swept down the beach again. Yet the undertow took me not back to sea, for amid the floating wreckage floated the shattered main-top, and in the truck of that great spar I caught, and so was left with it upon the beach thirty paces from the men and Elsevier. Then he left his own assured salvation, namely the rope, and strode down again into the very jaws of death to catch me by the hand and set me on my feet. Sight and breath were failing me. I was numb with cold and half dead from the buffeting of the sea, yet his giant strength was powerful to save me then, as it had saved me before. So when we heard once more the warning crash and thunder of the returning wave, we were but a thatham distant from the rope. Take hard lad, he cried, it is now or never. And as the water reached our breasts, gave me a fierce shove forward with his hands. There was a roar of water in my ears, with a great shouting of the men upon the beach. And then I caught the rope.