Part 18 (2/2)
”'Thar's the pile, pard.'
”We shook hands, and then, with the aid of the men, lifted out the box. It was exceedingly heavy. When we got it out there was some difficulty in opening it, but a revolver cartridge and the pick solved the matter. As the lid went up, we saw before our eyes a pile of gold, jewellery and precious stones. Hake Stevens ran his fingers through them lovingly, and then lay down on the ground, laughing and crying.
Then he got up again, and plunged his arms up to the elbows into the winking ma.s.s--and his eyes were as the eyes of a madman. I put my hand into the box and pulled out a fistful of gems. Stevens grasped me by the wrist, and then loosed his hold at once.
”'Oh G.o.d! oh G.o.d!'
”'Why, what is the matter, Stevens? Look at these beauties!' and I held out my hand to him. He looked back at me in a strange sort of way, and said, in a husky voice:
”'Keep that lot, pard. Don't let them be mixed with the others. See! I will take what I can hold, too, and we will divide the rest.' He put his hand amongst the jewels and drew it back with a shudder. 'They're hot as h.e.l.l,' he said.
”I thought the best thing to do was not to notice his strange manner.
”'Keep them to cool,' I said, flinging what I had with me into the box, and shutting the lid, 'and come and have some dinner. I'm famished.'
”'Do you think these fellows are all right?' Stevens said, apparently trying to pull himself together, as he indicated the crew with a glance.
”'We ought to be a match for twice the number; but we'll keep a look out.'
”We went to dinner in the boat, carrying our box with us. Our crew lit a fire near one of the idols, and cooked their food, whilst we ate our very simple meal. The sun had gone down, and the moon was fighting with a heavy ma.s.s of clouds that had sprung up apparently from nowhere, and were gathering in mountainous piles overhead. The low rumbling of distant thunder came to our ears.
”'Looks like rain. Jehoshaphat!--it is rain.'
”A distant moaning sound that gradually increased in volume was audible, the tree tops bent and swayed, the placid surface of the lagoon was beaten into a white foam, and the storm came. We heard a yell from the boatmen on the bank. The next moment we were torn from our moorings, and went swinging down the creek in pitchy darkness.
Overhead and around all h.e.l.l was loose. The paddles were swept away, and we spun round in a roaring wind, in a din of the elements, and a darkness like unto what was before G.o.d said, 'Let there be light.' I shouted to Stevens, but could not hear my own voice. Suddenly there came a deafening crash, and a chain of fire hung round the heavens. I saw Stevens crouching in the boat, with his face resting on the box, and his arms clasped around it. 'By the Lord!' he was gibbering and mowing to himself--even above the storm I heard his shrill cry--'the idols, the idols! they're laffin' at us.' I turned my head as he spoke: the blackness was again lit up, and I saw by it the calm, smiling faces of the Buddhas. All their eyes were fixed on us, and in that strange and terrible light the stony smiles on their faces broadened in devilish mockery. The rain came down in sheets; and the continual and ceaseless flashes of lightning flared on the angry yellow water around us, and made the rain seem as if there were millions of strands of fine silver and gold wires hanging from the blackness above. It was all I could do to keep myself in the canoe. At each flash I looked at Stevens, and saw him in the same posture, crouching low, like a cat. Then he began to sing, in a shrill voice, that worked its way, as a bradawl through wood, past all the noise of the elements. And now the whole heavens were bright with a pale light that was given back by the hissing water around. The raindrops sparkled like gems, and hit almost with the force of hailstones.
Stevens rose with a scream, and stood in the boat.
”'Sit down, for G.o.d's sake!' I called out.
”'I'm holding them with my life--the diamonds, the jewels!' he yelled with a horrid laugh, and shook his fist at something. I followed his movements; and there, riding in the storm, was a small canoe, paddled by a man in the dress of old days. He was smiling at Stevens as, with long easy sweeps of his paddle, he came closer and closer.
”'Shoot him!' yelled Stevens, as he pulled out his revolver and fired once, twice, and then flung it with all his might at the vision. In the effort he overbalanced the boat, and all I can remember is that I was swimming for dear life, and being borne down with frightful rapidity through that awful light. I saw something, which might have been Hake Stevens, struggling for a moment on the water; but, Stevens or not, it sank again almost immediately, and some one laughed too as this happened.
”And I think,” said Burgess, ”that's about all. I never saw Hake Stevens again, and I don't want ever to see Brito's jewels any more.”
”How did you get out?”
”By absolute luck. I don't very well remember now; and By Jove! here comes the breeze.”
Even as he spoke, a cool puff of wind fanned us into life.
THE DEVIL'S Ma.n.u.sCRIPT
CHAPTER I.
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