there is little more to tell. one day was like another. for once that ocean which i had always thought ill-called pacific, did not belie its name. the wind blew us steadily and gently toward the haven we wished to reach. it was hard work but we equally divided watches and duties, i attending to all the trimming of the yards, my mistress doing the cooking, and after that first night we honorably kept watch and watch at night. i do not know what would have happened if it had come on to blow, for i never could have reefed or furled those sails, but the same providence which had watched over us kept us in recollection still. indeed, save for a certain nervous strain, i was never better in my life, and my mistress also.
after many days’ sailing we approached the south american coast and there were lucky enough to fall in with a spanish frigate. her[363] commander, don antonio recaldé, came aboard when he heard from the officer whom he had sent off to us something of our story. he was incredulous at first and not until we showed him some of the jewels did he believe us. there was a great risk, perhaps, in showing an ordinary man such a valuable treasure, but we were both agreed, my lady and i, that don antonio was to be trusted absolutely.
indeed, he proved himself a royal fellow in that he took the three mutineers on his own ship and sent a lieutenant and a dozen seamen aboard the rose of devon, and as he was cruising on a roving commission he convoyed us into valparaiso. the prisoners we turned over to the english representative, to be tried for piracy and murder. a trading ship bound through the straits of magellan for buenos ayres offered us an opportunity to return to the atlantic. we took advantage of this, disposing of the rose of devon to a firm of spanish merchants at valparaiso for a good price which provided us with more than enough money for our return voyage, and which relieved us of the necessity for offering some of the jewels for sale which would have[364] involved explanations and possibly delay and confiscation.
we did press upon don antonio an emerald of great size and brilliancy which, generous seaman that he was, he was loath to take but which my mistress insisted upon, in addition to which he received a certain percentage of the proceeds of the sale of the rose of devon as salvage, so that he and his men were well rewarded for their kindness to us.
from buenos ayres, which we reached without mishap, we took a coasting vessel, the only one that served, for rio de janeiro, the capital of the portuguese possessions in the brazils. there we were lucky enough to find a large portuguese man-of-war frigate homeward bound to lisbon, whose captain obligingly received us as passengers, being moved thereto, i more than suspect, by the beauty of my lady. from lisbon by roundabout ways we finally landed in plymouth harbor, whence we had set forth more than a twelvemonth before. how good it was to set foot on english ground once more! yet i was sadder that morning than i had been during all our far voyaging. i hired a private coach[365] and by nightfall we ended all our long journey at master ficklin’s door. he, with that worthy kindly woman his sister, greeted us as if we had risen from the dead, and greatly rejoicing in my lady’s good fortune, gave us the warmest of welcomes.
that night i had what i expected would be my last interview with her. we had been thrown constantly together during the six months that had elapsed since our great adventure on the island of the stairs and our arrival in england. we had discussed everything else, i think, but i had said naught of my love. indeed, each league of sea over which we passed on our way homeward seemed to remove her farther from me. although she was tender, she was considerate, she was inviting, she was intimate, when she was not arch, i could not bring myself to a declaration.
we were alone. good mistress ficklin had given us her parlor for the evening. i took from my pockets the canvas pouch filled with her treasure which i had detached from my belt as i had dressed that morning, and laid it on the table.
[366]“this, mistress wilberforce,” said i, formally enough, although my heart was beating rapidly, “is yours.”
she waved her hand as if it was of small moment.
“we have discussed that before,” she said, “what of yourself?”
“last night,” i replied, “i went down to the docks. a ship sails for the east indies next week. they want a chief mate and if my references serve they will engage me.”
“and have you these references?”
“i thought, madam, that your friends in the city might give them to me when they know.”
“but i have no friends in the city,” she answered promptly.
“these,” said i, pointing to the table, “will buy them for you.”
she stepped over to the table, untied the strings and upon the velvet cloth fell the sparkling gems.
“would they not buy friends for you as well?” she asked.
“mistress lucy,” said i, “i want but one thing in this world. no money, no jewels could buy[367] that, nor all the treasure we left behind upon that island.”
“but if one should give you that,” she said very softly, her eyes on the table and her white hand lifting the stones and letting them fall.
“i am not worthy—to receive it,” said i.
“and so,” she said, without looking at me, “and so it is good-by then. may you be happy.”
she extended her hand to me and i caught it and kissed it passionately, but when i made to let it go she would not.
“master hampdon,” she said, looking at me, her eyes brighter than the diamonds and bluer than the sapphires upon the table, “you are a fool.”
“right well i know that, mistress,” said i, striving to fetch a smile to match her own.
“and a blind man as well.”
whereat i was a blind man, indeed, for my eyes misted up, but not with blood as in the battle. and i, as strong and tough as a mountain ash, was as like to faint as any lovesick girl.
“john, john,” came the sweetest voice on earth to me through the darkness, “don’t you see? don’t you know that i love you and you only,[368] that you have all my heart and that my life, which is yours a thousand times on sea and shore, is not worth living without you?”
“but your friends, your world,” i protested as she came nearer.
“i have no other friends, i want no other, and you are my world.”
well, it was not in me to resist after that, and for the third time in my life i held her in my arms, where since that hour she has often been again, and for the third time i drank the sweetness of her lips. she laughed presently and i let her go a little, yet still held her close, and she looked at me.
“do you remember the night on the rose of devon when first you kissed me?”
“if i should kiss you a million times, sweetheart, as i mean to do,” i answered boldly, “i should not forget a single one of them, much less that.”
“and to punish you for your presumption, although my heart went out to you i do confess, i struck you; and to teach you to be a dutiful husband, loving, devoted to me,” she paused and laughed again, “i strike you once again.”
[369]whereat she laid her hand once more, but in tenderness, upon my cheek, following it with a kiss. i have had his majesty’s sword laid upon my shoulder after i had led one of the king’s ships to victory in the french wars, and i am now, if you please, sir john hampdon. we live at wilberforce castle and our children play on the sward, but the royal accolade meant not so much to me as that light blow upon my cheek with which my dear mistress sealed our plighted troth.
note
i am often asked what became of the surviving english on the island, and i can only answer that i do not know. so far as i have learned, no white man has ever visited that island since that day, although the publication of these memoirs may induce someone to go there for the balance of the treasure, which is undoubtedly still where we left it. they were resourceful sailors, however, and i have no doubt if any of[370] them survived the earthquake, they managed to get down the wall in some way, repaired their canoes perhaps and returned to the island whence they came, with the surviving natives, and they and their descendants may be living there, awaiting the arrival of some ship.
i heard also after some years, of the prisoners we left in the hands of the british representative at valparaiso. one died, one escaped, and one was hanged for the mutiny. should anyone be inspired by the recital of this story to seek the island of the stairs—where what remains of the treasure is theirs for the taking—and come upon these mutineers, they may assure them that, so far as my lady and i are concerned, no proceedings will be instituted against them. the lapse of years and the punishment their ringleaders suffered have rendered any prosecution of them impossible, and so far as we are concerned they may return to england or go where they will without molestation. god has undoubtedly dealt with them, and we can leave their future to him.
