CHAPTER X.

THE MINION POINTS A MORAL, ALTHOUGH HE DOES NOT ADORN A TALE.

Those who have never passed through days of wearing suspense, days of anxiety, days when water was scarce and food more so, days when, as in my case and the lad's, we were in danger of death, and, in fact, were very near to his dread presence--I say that those who have never suffered these things can not imagine how wracked and torn one's nerves become with a combination of such disagreeables and horrors. The scarcity of food was not a horror, but certainly the experience in the great hall had been more than disagreeable. We were weakened mentally and physically, so that it is not to be wondered at that we all showed overpowering signs of terror at the sight which now met our eyes. The passage was dark in itself, but there stood a little way down, amid its sombre gloom, the skeleton of the Chief Justice. I had heard him tossed, a mass of bones, into the corner, and here he was, standing erect as he had been in life, come to ask me, doubtless, what I had done with that last house of which I had deprived him. You will wonder how we could discover him in that darkened interior. But he shone refulgent. He brought his light with him, as it were, and it seemed to flood his body, and glisten and scintillate from all his whitening bones. His teeth appeared to grin at us, as if he were enjoying the ghastly joke. His head waggled from side to side, and the sockets of his eyes emitted a fiendish light. His legs trembled and his toes touched the ground. They seemed to dance--a dance of death. The Skipper and the Bo's'n had fallen prone upon the floor of the cave. Lacelle had shrieked and fled away, and I was left to support the form of the unconscious girl. Suddenly the light was extinguished. I heard several sharp blows and a sobbing sigh. Then a sound as if the skeleton himself was fleeing down the corridor in terror as great of us as ours of him. There was a rattling of bones, as if again they had sunk down into an inanimate heap.

"For God's sake, let us get out of this accursed place!" whispered the Skipper as the noise died away. The Bo's'n raised his head and opened his eyes, as if he feared to see again the grewsome sight. The Skipper crawled along the floor and whispered in my ear a second time:

"For God's sake, let us get away!"

"Do you think I want to stay here, Captain?" I asked.

"You'd better give me that girl," suggested the Skipper, rising. "I s'pose you don't mind holding----"

I laid Cynthia in the Captain's arms.

"She's pretty solid," said he, as her senseless form pressed with all its weight against his breast. "S'pose you help me carry her inside."

Without a word I put my arms around her shoulders.

Lacelle hovered near with a candle end. It looked to me like one of those I had seen in the great hall. We carried the dear girl through the archway and into her own chamber. We placed her upon the blanket and pillow which Lacelle had got ready. As I laid her head gently down it turned to one side, the chain which I had seen slipped out of her neck band, and the serpent ring and the locket were exposed to view. The serpent's eyes emitted two red sparks--a baleful light it seemed, but I cared little for that. Something else had caught my eye. Something pleasurable at last amid all this misery. The locket had fallen open, and encircled within its golden rim I saw a face, one that I had not often seen, it is true, yet one that I recognised. It was my own.

I motioned to the Skipper to replace the chain and ring, for I knew that Lacelle would take fright again at the sight of the strange bauble. I felt also that Cynthia would be enraged if she learned that any one had seen the face within the locket. I snapped the cover to, even as I saw it, and then the Skipper came to do what I asked of him. He stood between me and Cynthia, and bending over her, he did what he chose--I did not see what, but I saw him put his hand to his waistcoat pocket, and I felt sure that he had abstracted that dread circle of mystery.

When I returned to the cave, I found that the Bo's'n had made a fire and was cooking some of the pork. There were no vessels to be seen, and we were for the moment safe. He and the Skipper went boldly down to the shore and rolled the casks up to the cave. They brought water and all the things that we had carried ashore with us.

"It is a much better place than the open beach," said the Skipper. "We can sight all the vessels that come, and tell who are friends and who are foes."

"It is not likely," said I, "that the buccaneers will return very soon, especially as they have had a sea fight, and if they do, they do not know that we are here, or anything about this side of the cave."

"It's a good idea to stay here for the present," said the Skipper.

"And what of ghosts and skeletons?" asked I.

"Well, the place is haunted, that I know," said the old man, "but I'd rather stay here than to risk it on the shore. You don't know what's on that shore or who's comin' to meet you. I'd rather take my chances here a darn sight. Rather take 'em with the spooks than with the revolutionists."

"What do you think I've found, sir?" said the Bo's'n, coming in just here. "Begging your pardon for interruptin'."

"Lord knows!" said the Skipper. "Anything from a diamond as big as a hen's egg to a coach and four. Anything's allowable for shipwrecked mariners like ourselves."

The Bo's'n looked sheepish and shuffled his feet about, a habit that seemed to grow on him.

"Do you remember, sir," he said, screwing up his eyes and turning his head to one side like a wise bird--"do you remember that hollow tree?"

"'F course I do," said the Skipper, not waiting for me to answer; "the tree where we lay hid while those murderous vil----"

"Beggin' your pardon, sir, it was not the tree to which I was alluding Captain Schuyler, Mr. Jones, sir. It's the tree near the stream, not on our side, but on the other side, sir--the tree where you can't see much of a hole, sir, with branches low down, Cap'n, and big roots, Mr. Jones, sir, and----"

"Well! well! When you have finished with your addendas and appendixes, we'd like to hear what you really have to tell us."

"Cap'n, sir, Mr. Jones, beggin' your pardon, to be short, sir----"

"_To be short!_" groaned the Skipper, with a weary look at me.

"In short, sir, that tree's full of the--most--mur--der--ous--lot--of--weapons--you--ever--see."

"Weapons!" roared the Skipper.

"Yessir. Chock-a-block, sir. The most mur-der-ous----"

"Wheugh!" ejaculated the Skipper.

"Weapons!" said I. "It is a lucky find, Bo's'n. They may be very useful to us. At all events, you had better go and get them and hide them up here in the cave. We don't know who may find them next."

"Mr. Jones, you seem to have forgotten that I am the head of this expedition. Please allow me to give orders on board this ship."

"Yes, sir," said I.

"You seem to have forgotten who's paying you wages, Mr. Jones."

"No, sir," said I, "I haven't."

"Who the devil is it, then?" asked the Captain fiercely.

"No one," said I.

The Captain opened his eyes and looked at me in a surprised manner. He then looked on the ground and shook his head meditatively.

"That's so," said he in a tone of conviction. "It isn't the first time I've been reminded of it, either." And then he gave vent to a few choice expletives at my expense.

"Now, Captain," said I, "it's time to stop talking about who's the head of this expedition. We didn't elect to come here. I lost my job when the old Yankee went down. I am under your command, of course. God knows that I am out of a job, and that I shall not earn a stiver from the day before yesterday until I get back to God's country and get another billet. I am willing to do anything I can to help you and every one, and I know that, according to the rules of the sea, you have the ordering of me. Anything you ask me I'll do if it's a possible thing; and I don't mind a decent order either, but I don't want to be shouted at as if I were a common sailor. Of course, you're still the Captain, we all recognise that, but the rest of us deserve a little consideration, too. We are all working for the common good, the Bo's'n as much as the rest of us. What touches one touches all. Of course, it is my duty and my pleasure to stand by you, but you have no more right to swear at me than I have to swear at you. And the next time you do it, Captain Schuyler, I shall pick up my hat, take my pistol, and walk."

The Captain listened to this long speech with astonishment. Several times during its delivery he ejaculated "That's so!" under his breath. Then he looked round at me piteously.

"I'm an old man, Mr. Jones," he said with dignity. "I was brought up in a profane school. I have sworn all my life, but I suppose it is time to ease up a little. You know it was nothing personal, Mr. Jones; not at all, sir. You know what a habit is. It was just meant for emphasis, Mr. Jones. But if you object, I'll stop, of course. I don't know that I can stop altogether. If I should stop too short I might have a sort of delirium tremens in the way of swearing. Now you know we might get round that, since you and the Bo's'n object, by my taking it out in just a mild form, you know, on the Minion."

"He don't mind it," said I. "He'll think you're ill if you don't swear at him. He's had it all his life. He thinks it's the grammar you learned at school. I don't care for the Minion, Captain, but I do care for what you say before your niece. And then there's yourself! Captain, think of yourself! You are an old man, or getting to be."

"Not so old, Mr. Jones," argued the Skipper, as if there was time to talk the devil's language yet a while before the day of repentance should swoop down upon him.

"And now that's settled," said the Skipper, "why don't you damned miserable, worthless fellows go and get those weapons?"

We started for the hollow tree. We had become so accustomed to the dark passage now that we ran along, one behind the other, with our hands against the wall. I must confess that I never passed through it that I did not feel a creepy sensation and a shrinking fear that our unknown guide might again try to aid me. But it seemed now as if he appreciated the fact that we had become used to the darkness and inequalities of the tunnel, and, though I shuddered at the thought of his approach, I might have spared myself all anxiety. He did not come.

"Where's that damn Minion?" asked the Skipper again.

"Can't find him, Captain. But my advice is that you pay no attention to him. He'll come back much too soon for the rest of us."

We three descended the hill together, and when we reached the level the Bo's'n led us to the tree. It was, as he had said, full of murderous-looking weapons--knives and Malay creases, which looked as if some pirate band had hidden them there; the machete of the Spaniard side by side with the sword of Damascus. They were all somewhat rusty, but in those days we did not have the appliances for sharpening that are in use nowadays, and we were not entirely lost without them. We drew these weapons of defence one after another from their hiding places. Had we as many men as weapons, we could protect ourselves against a small army.

"Now I can get some of those mangoes and mamey apples, sir," said the gentle Bo's'n, as he took from the pile a fine, sharp knife. He disappeared with these words, and only returned when he had climbed the trees and had cut more of these welcome additions to our table than he could carry. We had found various fruits which aided us much in disposing of our very plain fare, for in tropic lands one need never starve if he will only use his eyes, stretch out his hand, and take the gifts that the good God has strewn on beach, hill, and mountain.

We carried the weapons up to the cave, adding to them some pistols which we had discovered concealed beneath them and some well-wrapped boxes of ammunition.

"Some one has hidden these here and forgotten them," said the Skipper, "or else they couldn't get back."

"Perhaps, sir, those are what they were looking for, sir," ventured the Bo's'n, "when they came rushing into the cave next our own, Mr. Jones, and said that they must find them, Cap'n."

"No," said I, "I am quite sure those were clothes of some kind, for I remember the Admiral of the Red said that he wished to be arrayed as befitted his position."

"At all events," said the Skipper, "they had not the slightest idee of our presence. It seems strange, when they have been here before, perhaps many times, that they didn't know of this side of the cave."

"Beggin' your pardon, sir, they have always been up on the other side, I s'pose, sir."

"Of course, of course! Da--thank you, Bo's'n, for your suggestion, thank you, thank you," with a deprecatory look at me.

Among the machetes and other weapons I discovered a small dagger of foreign workmanship. It must have been recently bought or taken from some one, for its sheath was in good condition--indeed, almost bright. The blade was long and thin, and very sharp. I almost feared to give it to Cynthia, but later I did so, telling her that I hoped that the time would never come when she would be obliged to use it, but that if such time should come, I trusted her to take care of herself. She looked dubiously at me and said:

"How can you be so bloodthirsty, Mr. Jones? Do you suppose that I should be willing to kill several of those men just for a fancied grievance?"

"Oh, no!" said I. "When the grievance comes which I fear for you, it will not be a fancied one."

"But I thought all you men were going to take care of me, Mr. Jones?"

"We mean to," said I. "The good God letting us, but sometimes--Well, at all event, promise me that you will always carry this, and I shall be satisfied. Come, now, Cynthia, I have not asked much of you."

"That is true," said Cynthia. "Very well, then, I promise. It's a pretty toy. I think I'll give it to Aunt Mary 'Zekel for a curiosity when I get home."

My pages will be too full if I try to set down each time the Bo's'n brought fruit in from the forest, or each time that I went along the beach and gathered oysters from their homes upon the mangrove roots. Let it suffice that I say here that the forest and the sea yielded us food. If not luxurious food, still enough to support life, and that, with the fresh water from the spring below the cliff, from which we were now not cut off, and the rum which we gathered up later from the great bowl in the flagons and cups that we appropriated to our use, we managed to have eatables and drinkables enough while we remained in the cave.

We were busy all that day in settling ourselves in our permanent abode. We cut branches and stripped the leaves from them, looked through them with care to see that there was no dangerous insect hidden beneath their shining green, and, piling the sticks and leaves against the inner wall, we made for ourselves beds, which, if not quite as comfortable as the bunks on board the old Yankee, still were better than we had hoped to find when we were cast away.

I had not seen Cynthia since I had discovered the secret of the locket. The Captain went sometimes to her chamber, and always brought the word that she could not be awakened. I was more than anxious, but I had no rights that others would recognise, and I did not dare suggest what I knew the Skipper would not approve. I should have liked to carry the girl down the hill, and place her on the beach in the shade of the great trees and in sight of the sea, where the cool, fresh trade wind could blow across her face; but the Skipper looked at me with so much apparent indignation at my interference, when I hinted at a supposititious case of the kind, that I held my peace.

We all went to rest early. The Bo's'n had made a most refreshing brew of coffee, and, after we drank it, we laid ourselves down, hoping at last for a solid night of rest and sleep.

We were talking from one bed to the other as men--and they say women--will in those drowsy hours.

"I haven't seen the Minion to-day," said I.

"Nor I. The last I saw of the little devil was when I told him to put out the lamp in the cave."

"He'll come soon enough to bother us," said I.

Just then there was a step upon the floor, and Cynthia again emerged from between the pillars. She walked as she had before.

"My baby chain," she said, "my baby chain?"

The Skipper arose at once and approached her.

"Why, Cynthy, Cynthy, girl," he said soothingly.

"Don't touch her, sir," whispered the Bo's'n.

"My baby chain, my baby chain," said Cynthia in a strangely unfamiliar voice, fumbling at her neck the while.

The Skipper stepped quickly out to the passageway and felt in his pocket. He took something therefrom and returned some other thing to its keeping. While he was thus engaged, I noticed that the Bo's'n watched him with dilated eyes. He seemed to shrink backward, into himself, as it were. A look of horror overspread his features. He whispered to me: "If I didn't know positive, sir, that you threw that--that--you know, sir, into the water, far, far out into the water----"

"Don't be a fool, Bo's'n!" said I. "You say you saw me throw it out into the water, and, for my part, I don't think it has got legs to walk or arms to swim with. Just imagine it paddling ashore and crawling up the bank----"

"Stop, sir, in God's name!"

"My chain, my baby chain," said Cynthia, still advancing.

The Skipper now turned and came our way. He had in his hand nothing more appalling than the chain and locket. He said, "Why, Cynthy girl, why, Cynthy girl, why, Cynthy!" He laid his hard old hand upon her arm as tenderly as her own mother could have done, and then he placed the chain round her neck and clasped it there. A satisfied look came over her features, she smiled, and laid her hand upon the locket. I wondered if she remembered that my face was there.

"Don't touch her, Cap'n, sir," urged the Bo's'n. But the deed was already done. The Skipper had turned her gently round and had led her back to the pillars, where Lacelle met her, and together they vanished in the gloom.

"That thing's hereabouts somewhere," whispered the Bo's'n in my ear.

"Well, if you will be a fool!" said I.

"She's all right now, I think," said the old man. "Hope she'll sleep and wake up all right."

I noticed that the Bo's'n shrank from the Skipper as he came near--in fact, I had noticed it many times of late, and I was convinced that there was something in the mere presence of the ring which affected this man's mental attitude.

"Suppose we sleep now for a while?" suggested the Skipper.

He started to stretch himself near the Bo's'n, but the man jumped to his feet.

"I can't sleep," said he; "I'm wakeful. I will go out, sir, and take a stroll around."

"Look out for snakes!" murmured the Skipper sleepily, in a teasing voice. The Bo's'n shuddered and bounded from the cave. I wondered where between the Skipper and the wilds of the forest the Bo's'n would find rest for the sole of his foot.

The young Englishman, of whom we were taking care as we would of a baby, was lying on his couch of ferns in a remote corner. All that day one or the other of us played the part of nurse, and many a time I wished for the Minion, only that he might take his share of such work. The lad was delicate to begin with, and God knows what he had suffered on board the pirate craft before they triced him up and left him for dead. I found from his later account that he had suffered from an affection of the lungs, and that his mother had sent him on a sea voyage to Algiers, hoping that the change would benefit him. The ship had been captured off the coast of Portugal, and was never heard of more. The lad knew her fearful fate. The boy and the Smith, a servant from his mother's estate, were allowed to live, for what, God alone knows. They had been on board the pirate ship now for six months or more, and the lad had become weaker and more weak from the hardships that he had undergone and the coarse duties that he was obliged to perform. His being left to hang until he died in that devil's cavern was the final straw which broke his spirit. He knew of no possible succour from the cave of death. He could not hope for aid. He did not even know that I was to be left to bear him company. And what good that would have been, except that he could for a time have had some human companionship, I could not determine. I, on the contrary, knew that my friends were under the same roof with myself, and, though I did almost despair and become lost to living impressions through bodily terror of those horrid creatures which had been let loose upon me, still way down in my heart there was, I now know, a faint hope that some one would come to my rescue. Thinking these thoughts caused me to arise and go to the place where the lad lay and put some water to his lips. He drank gratefully, but did not raise his lids nor look at me. And then, dead tired, I threw myself upon my couch of leaves.

I had slept probably many hours when I was awakened by a touch on my shoulder. It was the Bo's'n. He was kneeling beside me.

His finger was on his lips as he glanced toward the Skipper. He spoke to me in low tones.

"I have something to show you, sir. It is such a curious sight, sir. Do come."

I turned over sleepily:

"I'm tired of curious sights, Bo's'n," I said. "Where is it?"

The Bo's'n nodded toward the direction of the great hall.

"It's over that way, sir."

"Good Heavens! have you really awakened me to see more sights? I thought you were afraid to go there," said I.

"There's nothing to be afraid of now, sir," he said. "Do come, Mr. Jones, sir."

"Very well, Bo's'n," said I, "but no farther than the gallery. I've had enough of the cave."

"That's just where I was going to take you, sir."

"Suppose we waken the Captain and take him along?" said I.

"No, sir, I couldn't go then. In fact, sir, the Captain has become so abhorrent to me, Mr. Jones, that sometimes I think I must separate from the party."

"What under heaven do you mean?"

"Can't tell, sir; there is something about----Are you sure, sir, that you _did_ throw that----"

"If your own eyes are not sufficient witness," I began; and then, looking him square in the eye, "But tell me, Bo's'n, why that simple ring----"

"I beg you, sir," he said.

"You do not fear the halls of death, the skeletons of what were living men, you do not fear----"

"That is death, Mr. Jones," he said. "Death--quiet, peaceful rest, without fear of a beyond. This is life--horrible, torturing life. That sickening, coiling body which will crush the very being out of one. Those eyes with red flames of vision: they see the future. They know what will befall us, they gloat over our misery. As long as that thing, that dreadful presence, is even out there in the water, but so near, so near, we are fated! That it is which drew us upon the rocks! That it is which brought the pirates down upon us! That it was which put you in that cage of which you tell me! That it is which will hold us, and coil about us, and never let us go, man, woman, or child, until it has crushed the life from our bodies!"

"But if you do not mind death, Bo's'n, and you say not--if you do not mind leaving this world and----"

"Oh, sir, can not you see? It is the horror, the dread, the ever-recurring fear of evil, the tortured mind, looking forward to the torture of the body----"

"No," I said, "I can not understand you at all. Let us give it up, Bo's'n; but if you are not afraid of one death, I don't see----"

"My mother was a witness, was a witness----" The man's frame shook with some horror, I knew not what.

"A witness to what?" I asked. In the Bo's'n's eyes there began to appear a strange glare. All at once I began to feel that desire which overcomes most of us at times to possess another's secret. I fastened my eye upon the Bo's'n's, and began to speak in a low and mysterious tone.

"There was a serpent," I said, "a ghastly, writhing, coiling, deadly serpent. It crept out of the darkness, and began to move slowly. It came on, and on, and on----"

I was looking steadily at the Bo's'n as I said these words. Suddenly his eyes dilated and stared wildly at the cavern wall; some flecks of foam appeared upon his lips, he writhed like the beast that I had been describing, and dropped in a heap upon the floor. There he lay motionless.

"Clearly," said I to myself, "I must not try this again." I felt certain that the man had had some dreadful experience. Possibly it was something which had impressed the mother, and had left its mark upon the child. If I continue this sort of thing, I reasoned, it may injure the man more than any other illness could have done. We should need his services often, I knew, and in any case he was a gentle soul, on whom we could rely so far as his good will might go. I looked down upon the unconscious man with sorrow for my part in this sad state of things. I threw some water in his face and shook him gently, calling, "Bo's'n! Bo's'n!"

He awoke after a few moments and sat up. He put his hand to his neck and felt the water upon his shirt.

"I see how it is, sir," he said with an apologetic smile. "I have been off again, sir. Oh, sir, if you wouldn't let me talk of it, I should not give way so."

I was really remorseful to have teased this unoffending creature.

"Come along, Bo's'n," I said, "and let us go and see your curious sight."

The man's palms were turned outward before his face, as if to ward off some fearful sight. His eyes had that look which expresses all that the human eye can of dread. I took his hands in mine and pulled them down.

"Come along," said I, "before the Skipper awakens."

At this he arose and almost ran out through the archway. As soon as we had got well into the passageway the Bo's'n seemed to recover himself. His tone became more natural, and he lapsed into the vernacular commonly employed on board ship.

"Careful, sir," he said, as he walked ahead. "It's the left hand you want to keep against the wall, so turn after me when you get into the passage that leads to the gallery. Softly, please, sir, or we shall scare our bird."

As we drew near the gallery, I heard pistol shots and what I thought were voices. My heart sank down a thousand fathoms below the soles of my shoes. Could those wretches have returned? The lamp was lighted. It had not been extinguished, then, after all. Or perhaps some one had relighted it, some one else who knew the secret of this dreadful place. I crept after the Bo's'n and raised myself from the floor of the gallery as cautiously as he had done. I parted the leaves as gently. The first thing I noticed was that the liquor in the central bowl was bubbling fiercely. It must have been refreshed, for the spirit would have been burned off by this.

Upon the great block of stone from which the Admiral had ruled and ordered a figure was seated. At first I could distinguish nothing but a blaze of light. Rays seemed to dart from the body and shed their sparkles in every direction. They wavered, they scintillated, they gleamed, they flashed. They sent flecks of brilliancy here, there, everywhere! The body of the person on the throne was covered, in the first instance, by nothing but a thin under garment, and over this was what looked like a garment of jewels. Almost every one has seen a suit of armour. No more completely were the knights of old encased in their coats of mail than was the person who sat upon the great block of stone enveloped in and encrusted with jewels and precious stones. The trunk was a mass of brilliant points of light. Chains hung across the foundation of the wonderful dress, and from them flashed, in searching rays, all the colours that the rarest gems can give--red, blue, yellow, green, pale pink, and the fire of the diamond. Each one glowed and sparkled and beamed, and made a central spot of light so bewildering, that our eyes were blinded by the sight. The feet of the figure were encased in jewelled shoes, which were pointed at the toe. A single great emerald glittered on each. From ankle to thigh the legs were clasped round with bands, anklets, and chains. There was a belt of gorgeous gems around the waist. The arms were bound with bracelets from wrist to shoulder. The short fingers were loaded with rings of all kinds. Upon the head was an eastern sort of hat, jewelled from crown to brim, and in the front shone a star of diamonds, above which rose an aigrette of sparkling stones.

In the centre of the star was set a gem so large that it might have graced the crown of the proudest potentate the world ever saw. Every movement made by this remarkable figure lighted up the cavern like a thousand jets of gas. I can compare it to nothing else. We had nothing but lamps to compare it with in those days, and I said to myself, "I have never seen anything that would give a stranger to this gorgeous sight an idea of its magnificence."

There was a tall gold flagon standing on the throne near the figure's feet. I saw the steam escaping.

"He was down a-drawin' it, sir, when I was here before, sir," whispered the Bo's'n.

"His throat must be made of metal," said I.

I saw the figure bend over and lift the flagon from its place by his feet. I saw the head thrown back and the scalding liquor put to the lips. I saw the wince of the body as some of it ran down. I watched the strange antics of this wild figure with bated breath, and not until I heard the words, given with all the pomp and air of command that a monarch would have used, "Bring in the prisoners!" did I discover the identity of this marvel. I looked at the Bo's'n to see if he also suspected the personality which underlay all this magnificence. He nodded his head.

"Yes, sir," he whispered.

It was the Minion, whose voice, seldom heard, was never forgotten.

He raised the flagon again to his lips, he took a deeper draught, now that the liquor was losing some of its heat. It was a deep potation for so small a body, and then he squeaked in imitation of the Admiral of the Red:

"Turn me round! Turn me round!"

We watched this ridiculous child, wondering at his powers of imitation and art, the desire for display which lay buried beneath that utterly expressionless exterior.

For want of a pirate band to turn him upon his throne, the Minion twisted himself about so that he faced the niches in the wall. He drew a pistol from his jewelled belt. This I recognised as a spare one of mine. He cocked it and began firing at the skeletons. The bullets flew, not with the precision of those of the Admiral of the Red. He whom the Minion had taken as his prototype would have put a bullet through the heart of so poor a copyist.

"Through the left eye, my jolly braves!" shouted the Minion in, I must confess, a more hearty voice than that of the Admiral. And at once he sent a bullet flying up to the arched roof.

"Through the right eye! The right eye for a thousand pounds!" roared the Minion, and his bullet took a toe off one of the hapless skeletons.

"Our safety lies in the fact that he is turned the other way," whispered I.

I shall never forget the glitter of that arm as it was raised to fire. With each movement it threw a band of light across our eyes which almost blinded us. The small back flashed in a thousand brilliant jets of flame, and made the cavern to seem as if it were illumined by the morning sun.

"Those are valuable jewels," I whispered to the Bo's'n. "A fortune is there, Bo's'n--a fortune for all of us. We must steal round and capture that young rascal and discover where he found them."

I glanced at the Bo's'n as I spoke. My glance was arrested by the utterly avaricious look which had come over his face at my words. His eyes seemed to swell from out their sockets, and even at that distance to gloat on the fortune of which I had told him.

"Let us go quickly, sir," he said, "before any one else gets there."

As we left the gallery the lad had again raised the flagon to his lips, and was drinking deep of the potent fluid. The small body wavered, and I thought that the Minion would not long preserve his dignity, for he was guzzling the clear liquor as if it were so much water. We pushed out through the tunnel and then through the home passage, and finally reached the hillside. My feet were lame and sore, and the Bo's'n had to accommodate his pace to mine. We reached the top of the hill, and then descended as fast as I was able to walk. We entered the archway after a slow journey, and were at last within the great hall. We looked with amazement at the throne and then at each other. There was no shooting, there were no orders, no commands, no Minion! We advanced cautiously until we got abreast of the rock. Our eyes fell upon the same object at the same moment, and I for one was not surprised at what I saw. Lying in a heap upon the floor, his brilliant form rolled ingloriously in the dust, lay the Minion. By his side was the flagon, drained dry. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds, diamonds, and pearls, chains of gold and corselet bestudded with stones fit setting for an empress of the Orient, encased the unconscious form of the young rascal. The Minion was helplessly drunk. We rolled the sodden little heap over and looked into his face. He was breathing stertorously, and I feared for his life. Not that the Minion's life was of any possible use to any living being, but because of a prejudice, inborn in each one of us, against allowing a creature made in God's image to die without some attempt at succour.

We unbuckled his belts and his bracelets, his collars and his anklets. We lifted the magnificent hat with its jewelled plume from the dust where it had tumbled. We drew from the childish and dirty fingers twenty or more gorgeous rings. We laid the gem-encrusted chains, the lockets, and watches with which he had decorated himself upon the rock which had been his throne. And then we bent down and raised the pitiful little figure. He did for once point a moral, this wretched mite of a cabin boy. His gorgeous trappings gone, shorn of what for the moment he dreamed was authority, though brief and suddenly terminated, he was simply a drunken little lad--his only clothing a very ragged and very dirty undershirt.