Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake. Fenn George Manville

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Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake - Fenn George Manville


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said the captain. “Good heavens, no! He’s as staunch as steel. A thoroughly trustworthy man.”

      “I must wink at it, I suppose,” said Dutch, “for it is not easy to supply vacancies in our little staff, and the men know it. They are hard fellows to manage.”

      “And yet you manage them well,” said the captain, smiling. “You ought to have been a skipper.”

      “Think so?” said Dutch; “but look, who is this coming on board?”

      “Poor John!” said the captain, with a sigh. “Poor boy, he’s in a sad way.”

      “But he’s very young, Mr Studwick, and with the fine weather he may amend.”

      “He’s beginning to be out of hope, Pugh, and so is poor Bessy. The doctor says he must have a sea voyage into some warmer climate – not that he promises health, but prolonged life.”

      “Indeed!” said Dutch, starting, as he thought of the Cuban’s proposal, and the probability of Captain Studwick having charge of the vessel if the trip was made, but not feeling at liberty to say much; and, the boat from the shore touching the side, he held his peace.

      A minute later a fine, handsome, but rather masculine girl – whose clear eyes sparkled as they lit on Dutch Pugh, and then were turned sharply away – stepped on deck, holding out her hand directly after to assist an invalid to pass the gangway, which he did, panting slightly, and then pausing to cough.

      He was evidently enough the girl’s brother, for with his delicate looks and hectic flush he looked strangely effeminate, and in height and stature the pair were wonderfully alike.

      “I don’t think it was wise of you to come out, John,” said the captain, kindly; “it’s a cold, thick day.”

      “It’s so dull at home,” said the young man, “and I must have change. There, I’m well wrapped up, father; and Bessy takes no end of care of me.”

      He gave the girl a tender and affectionate look as he spoke; and she smiled most pleasantly.

      “Ah, Mr Pugh, I’m glad to see you. Have you been down?”

      “Yes, just for a little while,” said Dutch, shaking hands with him, and then holding out his hand to the sister, who half shrank from him with an angry, flushed face; but his frank, pleasant look overcame her, and she held out her hand to him.

      “You have not been to see us yet, Miss Studwick,” he said, frankly. “Hester quite expects you to call, and I hope you will be friends.”

      “I will try to be, Mr Pugh,” said the girl, huskily. “I’ll call – soon.”

      “That’s right,” he said, smiling. “Come, too, John. We shall be very glad to see you.”

      The young man started, and looked at him searchingly with his unnaturally bright eyes.

      “No,” he said, sadly. “I’m too much of an invalid now. That is, at present,” he said, catching his father’s eye, and speaking hastily. “I shall be better in a month or two. I’m stronger now – much stronger; am I not, Bessy? Give me your arm, dear. I want to see the divers.”

      The couple walked forward to where the air-pump was standing, and the eyes of the captain and Dutch Pugh met, when the former shook his head sadly, and turned away.

      There was something very pathetic in the aspect of the young man, in whom it was plain enough to see that one by one most fatal diseases had made such inroads as to preclude all hope of recovery; and saddened at heart, for more than one reason, above all feeling that his presence was not welcome, Dutch superintended his men till, feeling that it would be absolutely necessary that some one would have to be on deck every day till the copper was all recovered, he made up his mind that it would fall to his lot, except at such times as Mr Parkley would relieve guard.

      Story 1-Chapter IV.

      The Diver at Home

      The next morning Rasp was sent off to act as superintendent, for Mr Parkley decided that Dutch must stay and help him in his plans for carrying out the Cuban’s wishes, if he took the affair up, and previously to discuss the matter.

      Dutch announced to Rasp then that he would have to set off at once.

      “It’s always the way,” grumbled the old fellow. “Board that schooner, too. Yah!”

      “Never mind, Rasp; you like work. You’ll be like the busy bee, improving each shining hour,” said Dutch, smiling.

      “Yes; and my helmets, and tubes, and pumps getting not fit to be seen, and made hat-pegs of. Busy bee, indeed! I’m tired of improving the shining hours. I’ve been all my life a-polishing of ’em up for some one else.”

      He set off growling, and vowing vengeance on the men if they did not work; and Dutch returned to find Mr Parkley with a map of the West Indies spread upon the desk.

      “Look here,” he said, “here’s the place,” and he pointed to the Caribbean Sea.

      “Do you think seriously of this matter, then?” said Dutch.

      “Very. Why not? I believe it is genuine. Don’t you?”

      “I can’t say,” replied Dutch. “It may be.”

      “I think it is,” said the other, sharply; “and it seems to me a chance.”

      “If it proved as this Cuban says, of course it would be.”

      “And why should it not?” said Mr Parkley. “You see he has nothing to gain by getting me to fit out an expedition, unless we are successful.”

      “But it may be visionary.”

      “Those ingots were solid visions,” said Mr Parkley. “No, my lad; the thing’s genuine. I’ve thought it out all right, and decided to go in for it at once – that is, as soon as we can arrange matters.”

      “Indeed, sir!” said Dutch, startled at the suddenness of the decision.

      “Yes, my lad, I have faith in it. We could go in the schooner. Take a couple of those divers, and some of our newest appliances. I look upon the whole affair as a godsend. Hum! Here he is. Don’t seem too eager, but follow my lead.”

      A clerk announced the previous night’s visitor; and Dutch recalled for the moment the previous day’s meeting, and the annoyance he had felt on seeing the stranger’s admiring gaze. But this was all forgotten in a few moments, the Cuban being certainly all that could be desired in gentlemanly courtesy, and his manners were winning in the extreme.

      “And now that you have had a night for consideration, Señor Parkley, what do you think of my project?” he said, glancing at the map.

      “I want to know more,” said Mr Parkley.

      “I have told you that vessels were sunk – ships laden with gold and silver, Señor Parkley, and I say join me. Find all that is wanted – a ship – divers – and make an agreement to give me half the treasure recovered, and I will take your ship to the spots. Where these are is my secret.”

      “You said I was slow and cold, Mr Lorry, yesterday,” said Mr Parkley. “You shan’t say so to-day. When I make up my mind I strike while the iron is hot. My mind is made up.”

      “Then you refuse,” said the Cuban, frowning.

      “No, sir, I agree. Here’s my hand upon it.”

      He held out his hand, which the Cuban caught and pressed hastily.

      “Viva!” he exclaimed, his face flushing with pleasure.

      “You will both be rich as princes. Our friend here goes too?”

      “Yes, I shall take him with us,” said Mr Parkley.

      Dutch started in wonder at what seemed so rash a proceeding.

      “And he must share, too,” said the Cuban, warmly.

      “Yes; he will be my partner,” said Mr Parkley.

      “And


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