Chapter 19

I must not omit to mention that Willie Hercus and Robbie Rosson duly delivered up to Mr. Drever their shares of Jarl Haffling's treasure. The dominie was, I believed, already in communication with the proper authorities concerning the claims that would be imposed according to what he called the law of treasure trove. But there were many delays in coming to an agreement, owing, as I understood, to official indifference and to the difficulty of determining the value of the relics, which Mr. Drever contended were worth more than their mere weight in silver. Meanwhile, the schoolmaster, anxious to keep the collection, as he said, intacto, for preservation in some museum, still held possession of the antiquities, and was nightly burning much oil in his absorbed study of them.

Since Tom Kinlay had left the school Mr. Drever had not seen him. But, betimes, a message was sent by Thora to intimate to Tom that we others had given our parts of the viking's treasure into his charge, and advising that Tom should send in the remainder without delay. But Tom, who now owed no direct duty to the dominie, resolutely refused to give up his share of the treasure.

On a windy Saturday morning--a week after the death of my poor dog--I was loitering about the quays in the port, when I was attracted towards a little crowd that had gathered round an old capstan. The crowd consisted of several sailors and fishermen, with a sprinkling of townsfolk, who were evidently much interested in something that was going on in their midst.

I walked towards them and elbowed my way in beside old Davie Flett, the skipper of a coasting schooner, with whom I was slightly acquainted.

"What's all the stir, Mr. Flett?" I asked.

"Och, it's just an auld Jew doing some business," he replied; and I pressed my way further into the crowd.

In the middle of the group there was a withered little man, bent with age, with a long ragged beard and a nose like the beak of a hawk. He wore a great black coat that was very shiny and reached almost down to his ankles; and in his skinny fingers he held what I soon recognized as the large red stone that Tom Kinlay had found at Skaill. Tom himself was standing near the old Jew, and bargaining with him for all the treasure that had fallen to his share.

The Jew had made some offer for the gem when I came up, and Kinlay was deliberating whilst listening to the advice of the fishermen.

"Take his offer, lad," advised Jack Munroe.

"Ay, take it, Tommy," added another. "Ye'll mebbe never hae anither such chance again."

"Nay, dinna be a fule," said Jim London. "The auld swindler kens the thing's worth mair than he offers. Gar him gie ye anither ten shillings."

"No, no," protested the Jew, speaking in broken English. "I not want ze ting. Wot use I make of it?"

He was about to hand it back to Tom.

"Well, well," he continued, again examining the gem. "If you not satisfy, den I gif you six shilling more; wot you say, eh? Dat make ten pound and six shilling, English. It not worth one penny more, I tell you."

"Mike it ten guineas," urged Kinlay.

"What! ten guineas? Himmel, mine child, you make me ruined!" exclaimed the Jew.

"Give the lad the ten guineas and be done with it, Isaac," said a young seaman who appeared to know him. "You'll get your own price in Amsterdam."

"Well, ten guineas I will gif--two hundred and ten shilling!"

And the old Jew slowly counted out the money from a dirty canvas bag that he took from his belt. I saw his little black eyes glitter as he dropped the sparkling gem into the bag and buttoned up his coat, before handing over the money.

Kinlay pocketed the sovereigns, and then looked round the crowd of faces about him with an air of extreme satisfaction. At the same time old Isaac turned to a Dutch sailor who was addressing him in their own language. By the fox-like look in the Jew's eyes I understood that he, on his part, was not really discontented with the bargain he had closed.

But Tom had evidently not disposed of all his valuables, for, just as Isaac was slipping away, he held him by the sleeve and showed him a handful of the viking's coins and rings, whereupon the old Hebrew renewed his bartering, with the result that Tom disposed of all his remaining store for the sum of two additional pounds.

The crowd was breaking up, and the Jew again slipping away, when I called out to him, thinking I would tell him that there were some more of these things in Stromness, and believing for the moment that Mr. Drever might have some wish to deal with so generous a purchaser. Isaac could at least tell him what the treasure was worth, I reflected.

"Will ye buy any more o' these things?" I asked, when he came to my side.

"Well, I want nossing more, mine young friend," he replied. "I haf make a very bad bargain already. But what have you? Any more of dose pretty tings?" and he indicated the gem that he had bought from Kinlay.

I thought at once of my magic stone that was suspended at my neck under my guernsey. I produced it, though of course I did not mean to let him have it at any price.

"Is this worth anything?" I asked.

But I had no sooner brought it forth than I felt a tugging at my sleeve. I turned round and saw old Davie Flett frowning at me meaningly.

"Don't have anything to do wi' the auld thief!" he whispered, dragging me aside. "Come away, lad, an' let me tell ye something."

But the Jew was already examining my little black stone, and asking me to take the cord that held it off my neck. He scratched its smooth surface with his long finger nails, and then took out an old knife from his pocket and was proceeding to insert the blade under the gold ring that encircled the stone. I snatched my precious talisman from him, and replaced it under the collar of my knitted shirt. The Jew looked surprised; but without heeding him I turned away with Captain Flett, who walked with me some distance from the dispersing crowd.

When we were alone beside one of the sheds he said:

"It's all right now, Ericson, my lad. I wanted but to save ye frae makin' a fule o' yersel, like Carver Kinlay's lad."

"Why," I said, "Kinlay has made a very good bargain, has he not?"

"Simpleton!" said the skipper. "Ye didna hear what yon Dutch sailor said to the auld Jew, eh?"

"I heard, captain, but of course I didna understand," I said.

"Weel, my lad, I understood," said he. "The Dutchman asked him what kind o' gem it was he had gotten frae the boy.

"'It's a ruby,' said the Jew.

"'Oho!'said the Dutchman. 'It's a rare big one, though. How muckle might ye be expectin' to get for it across the water--a couple o' hundred?'

"Then the auld Jew gave the Dutchman a wink, and said, 'Maybe a thousand dollars, mynheer.'

"So ye see, Ericson, if the auld swindler could count upon gettin', let us say, two hundred pounds English for the stone over in Amsterdam, ye can hardly say that young Kinlay got a big price for't, can ye?"

I was astounded at this information. Such unfairness appeared to my boyish mind as criminal in the extreme. But a wider knowledge of the world has since taught me that in commercial transactions things are not always bought and sold at their proper value.

I thanked my skipper friend, while telling him that I had myself had no intention of dealing with the merchant.

Scarcely had I left Mr. Flett two minutes before I heard someone walking hurriedly behind me. I was quickly overtaken by old Isaac and Tom Kinlay.

"Ericson," said Tom with a friendly tone in his voice, as though we had never quarrelled. "Let the old man hae a sight o' that thing ye've got round yer neck, will ye?"

I put my hands in my trousers pockets, and made no reply.

"I gif you tree shilling for it," said the Jew.

"Keep your dirty money, sir," I said, turning on my heel.

Then, as though he did not wish Kinlay to overhear his offer, he followed me, taking me by the sleeve:

"Ah! mine friend," he said coaxingly, "I see you know wot it is. Very well, den, I gif you a sovereign."

"A sovereign!" I exclaimed aloud.

And Kinlay, who had now come up to us, opened his eyes in surprise.

"Take the money, man," he urged.

"Nay, nay," I said. "If you like to give the value of two hundred pounds in exchange for ten guineas, I am certainly not so green. Besides, ye ken weel enough that those things were not rightly yours. Mr. Drever has told you that."

He did not appear to notice the latter part of what I said.

"Two hundred pounds!" he exclaimed, looking from me to the Jew. "Two hundred pounds! What d'ye mean?"

"I mean," I said calmly, "that you have been swindled. It's a ruby stone ye hae sold him, a ruby worth two hundred pounds."

I will not soon forget the expression that came into Tom's eyes when he heard this. It was a look first of incredulity, as though he supposed I was simply playing upon him. Then it changed to a look of defeat as he realized how much he had been cheated by the crafty old Jew. He turned round to vent his indignation upon Isaac, swearing and uttering threats of vengeance.

"Ye auld long-nosed deevil!" he exclaimed. "Ye heathen swindler! Gie me back the stone!"

But Isaac had already slipped away from the spot like a startled trout. We saw his long coattails disappear round the corner of an alley that led down to the harbour. Kinlay followed him, still swearing and threatening, and got down to the quay just in time to see the old Jew jump into a boat that had been waiting for him. The boat belonged to a Dutch brig that was putting out to sea, and when old Isaac got aboard, the anchor was already at the cat head and the sails were bellying in the wind.

Frustrated in his revenge upon the Jew, Kinlay now turned upon me his indignation. He accused me of willingly allowing him to sell the ruby below its value. I simply told him that it was no business of mine, and quietly asked him where he had got the gem.

"But I needna ask you that," I added, "for I well ken where you got it."

"Where did I get it?" he inquired, his face turning as red as the ruby itself.

"You got it from the old viking's helmet," I replied, "for I saw you put the thing in your pocket, though you did deny that you had it that day over at Skaill. But ye'll see what Mr. Drever will say to your selling what didna rightly belong to you."

"I carena that for Mr. Drever," he said, snapping his fingers. "Nor for you neither, ye young sneak."

At this he turned from me without further words. But I think there was more malice against me in his heart than he allowed to appear on the surface. This incident, and my advantage over him, had at least the effect of increasing the enmity between us.