Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake. Fenn George Manville
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least. We must go well prepared, and not fail for want of means.”
“Yes, yes, that is good.”
“And all this takes time. Trust me, sir, I shall not let the grass grow under my feet.”
“I do not understand the grass grow,” said the Cuban.
“I mean I shall hurry on the preparations,” said Mr Parkley.
The Cuban nodded his satisfaction; when the rest of the morning was spent in discussing the matter; and, though the visitor was extremely careful not to say a word that might give a hint as to the locality of the treasure, it became more and more evident that he was no empty enthusiast, but one who had spent years in the search, and had had his quest browned with success.
Several days passed in this way, during which great success attended the raising of the copper, and a proper deed of agreement had been drawn up and duly signed between the parties to the proposed expedition, at which, however, Dutch had said but little at his own home, lest he should cause his wife, who had been delicate since their marriage, any uneasiness.
The strange fancies that had troubled him had been almost forgotten, and in spite of himself he had become somewhat tinged by the Cuban’s enthusiasm, and often found himself dwelling on the pleasure of being possessed of riches such as were described.
“It would make her a lady,” he argued; “and if anything happened to me she would be above want.”
He was musing in this way one morning, when Mr Parkley came to him, they having dined together with the Cuban on the previous evening at his hotel.
“Well, Pugh,” he said, “I’m getting more faith every day. Lorry’s a gentleman.”
“Yes,” said Dutch, “he is most polished in his ways, and I must say I begin to feel a great deal of faith in him myself.”
“That’s well,” said Mr Parkley, rubbing his hands. “You’ll have to go with us.”
“I’m afraid, sir, you must – ”
“Excuse you? No, I don’t think I can. Besides, Pugh, you would go with me as my partner, for I shall have all that settled.”
“You are very, very kind, sir,” said Dutch, flushing with pleasure.
“Nonsense, man,” cried Mr Parkley; “all selfishness. You and I can do so much together. See how useful you are to me, partner.”
“Not your partner yet, sir.”
“Yes, you are, Pugh,” said the other, slapping him on the shoulder; “and now we’ll go in for calculations and arrangements for the expedition. I was thinking the schooner would do, but I find it would be too small, so I shall set Captain Studwick to look out for a good brig or a small barque, and take him into our confidence to some extent.”
“Not wholly?”
“No; and yet, perhaps, it would be as well. And now, Pugh, I’ve got a favour to ask of you.”
“Anything, sir, that I can do I will do with all my heart,” replied Pugh, enthusiastically.
“I knew you would,” replied Mr Parkley. “You see, this is a big thing, my lad, and will be the making of us both, and Lorry is a very decent fellow.”
“Decidedly,” said Pugh, wondering at what was coming.
“Well, I must be as civil to him as I can, and so will you, of course.”
“Of course.”
“He’s taken a great fancy to you, by-the-way, and praises you sky-high.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes; and look here, Pugh, he has got to be tired of this hotel where he is, and wants society. I can’t ask him to my shabby place, so I want you to oblige me by playing the host.”
Pugh started as if he had been stung.
“Nothing could be better,” continued Mr Parkley, who did not notice the other’s emotion. “Ask him to come and stay at your little place. Mrs Pugh has things about her in so nice and refined a way that you can make him quite at home. You will gain his confidence, too, and we shall work better for not being on mere hard business terms.”
Dutch felt his brain begin to swim.
“I’ll come as often as I can, and we shall be making him one of us. The time will pass more pleasantly for him, and there’ll be no fear of somebody else getting hold of him to make better terms.”
“Yes – exactly – I see,” faltered Pugh, whose mind was wandering towards home, and who recalled the Cuban’s openly expressed admiration for his wife.
“The dear little woman,” continued Mr Parkley, “could take him out for a drive while you are busy, and you can have music and chess in the evenings. You’ll have to live better, perhaps; but mind, my dear fellow, we are not going to let you suffer for that, and you must let me send you some wine, and a box or two of cigars. We must do the thing handsomely for him.”
“Yes, of course,” said Dutch vaguely.
“Quite a stranger here, you know, and by making him a friend, all will go on so much more smoothly afterwards.”
“Exactly,” said Dutch again.
“But how dreamy you are? What are you thinking about?”
Dutch started, for in spite of his love and trust he was thinking of the handsome Cuban being installed at his home, and always in company with his innocent young wife, while he was away busy over his daily avocations.
“I beg pardon; did I seem thinking?”
“That you did. But never mind; you’ll do this for me, Pugh?”
“Certainly, if you wish it,” said Dutch, making an effort; while the figure of the Cuban seemed to be coming like a dark shadow across his life.
“Well, yes, I do wish it, Pugh, and I am very much obliged. By-the-way, though, what will she say to your going out on the expedition?”
Dutch shook his head.
“By Jove, I never thought of that,” said Mr Parkley. “Poor little woman, it will be too bad. I tell you what, I was going to get old Norton to mind the business. I will not. You shall stay at home.”
“I should like to go,” said Pugh, quietly; “but situated as I am, I should be glad if I could stay.”
“So you shall, Pugh – so you shall,” said Mr Parkley. And nodding his head over and over again, he left Dutch to his thoughts.
He left for home that night with the cloud seeming to darken round him. He felt that under the circumstances he was bound to accede to his partner’s wishes, and yet he was about to take this man, a stranger, to his own sacred hearth, and he shuddered again and again at the ideas that forced themselves upon his brain.
“I’ve said I’ll receive him,” he said at last, half aloud; “but it is not yet too late. Hester shall decide, and if she says ‘No,’ why there’s an end of it all.”
A short run by the rail took him to his pleasant little home – a small house, almost a cottage, with its tolerably large grounds and well-kept lawn. The little dining and drawing-rooms were shaded by a broad green verandah, over which the bedroom of the young couple looked down, in summer, upon a perfect nest of trailing roses.
Dutch gave a sigh of satisfaction as he saw the bright, sunny look of pleasure that greeted him, and for the next hour he had forgotten the dark shadow as he related to his young wife the great advance in their future prospects.
“I do love that dear old Mr Parkley so,” she cried, enthusiastically. “And now, Dutch, dear, tell me all about why this foreign gentleman is taking up so much of your time. Why, darling, is anything the matter?”
Dutch sighed again, but it was with satisfaction, as with a mingling of tender love and anxiety the little woman rose, and, throwing one arm round his neck, laid her soft little cheek to his.
“Matter!