章节正文
"If ever I have a ship of my own," said Tom Chist, "and if ever I
sail to Injy in her, I'll fetch ye back the best chist of tea,
sir, that ever was fetched from Cochin Chiny."
Parson Jones burst out laughing. "Thankee, Tom," he said; "and
I'll thankee again when I get my chist of tea. But tell me, Tom,
didst thou ever hear of the farmer girl who counted her chickens
before they were hatched?"
It was thus they talked as they hurried along up the beach
together, and so came to a place at last where Tom stopped short
and stood looking about him. "'Twas just here," he said, "I saw
the boat last night. I know 'twas here, for I mind me of that
bit of wreck yonder, and that there was a tall stake drove in the
sand just where yon stake stands."
Parson Jones put on his barnacles and went over to the stake
toward which Tom pointed. As soon as he had looked at it
carefully he called out: "Why, Tom, this hath been just drove
down into the sand. 'Tis a brand- new stake of wood, and the
pirates must have set it here themselves as a mark, just as they
drove the pegs you spoke about down into the sand."
Tom came over and looked at the stake. It was a stout piece of
oak nearly two inches thick; it had been shaped with some care,
and the top of it had been painted red. He shook the stake and
tried to move it, but it had been driven or planted so deeply
into the sand that he could not stir it. "Aye, sir," he said, "it
must have been set here for a mark, for I'm sure 'twas not here
yesterday or the day before." He stood looking about him to see
if there were other signs of the pirates' presence. At some
little distance there was the corner of something white sticking
up out of the sand. He could see that it was a scrap of paper,
and he pointed to it, calling out: "Yonder is a piece of paper,
sir. I wonder if they left that behind them?"
It was a miraculous chance that placed that paper there. There
was only an inch of it showing, and if it had not been for Tom's
sharp eyes, it would certainly have been overlooked and passed
by. The next windstorm would have covered it up, and all that
afterward happened never would have occurred. "Look, sir," he
said, as he struck the sand from it, "it hath writing on it."
"Let me see it," said Parson Jones. He adjusted the spectacles a
little more firmly astride of his nose as he took the paper in
his hand and began conning it. "What's all this?" he said; "a
whole lot of figures and nothing else." And then he read aloud,
"'Mark--S. S. W. S. by S.' What d'ye suppose that means, Tom?"
"I don't know, sir," said Tom. "But maybe we can understand it
better if you read on."
"'Tis all a great lot of figures," said Parson Jones, "without a
grain of meaning in them so far as I can see, unless they be
sailing directions." And then he began reading again: "'Mark--S.
S. W. by S. 40, 72, 91, 130, 151, 177, 202, 232, 256, 271'--d'ye
see, it must be sailing directions-- '299, 335, 362, 386, 415,
446, 469, 491, 522, 544, 571, 598'--what a lot of them there be
'626, 652, 676, 695, 724, 851, 876, 905, 940, 967. Peg. S. E.
by E. 269 foot. Peg. S. S. W. by S. 427 foot. Peg. Dig to the
west of this six foot.' "
"What's that about a peg?" exclaimed Tom. "What's that about a
peg? And then there's something about digging, too!" It was as
though a sudden light began shining into his brain. He felt
himself growing quickly very excited. "Read that over again,
sir," he cried. "Why, sir, you remember I told you they drove a
peg into the sand. And don't they say to dig close to it? Read
it over again, sir--read it over again!"
"Peg?" said the good gentleman. "To be sure it was about a peg.
Let's look again. Yes, here it is. 'Peg S. E. by E. 269 foot.'"
"Aye!" cried out Tom Chist again, in great excitement. "Don't you
remember what I told you, sir, 269 foot? Sure that must be what I
saw 'em measuring with the line."
Parson Jones had now caught the flame of excitement that was
blazing up so strongly in Tom's breast. He felt as though some
wonderful thing was about to happen to them. "To be sure, to be
sure!" he called out, in a great big voice. "And then they
measured out 427 foot south-southwest by south, and they then
drove another peg, and then they buried the box six foot to the
west of it. Why, Tom--why, Tom Chist! if we've read this aright,
thy fortune is made."
Tom Chist stood staring straight at the old gentleman's excited
face, and seeing nothing but it in all the bright infinity of
sunshine. Were they, indeed, about to find the treasure chest? He
felt the sun very hot upon his shoulders, and he heard the harsh,
insistent jarring of a tern that hovered and circled with forked
tail and sharp white wings in the sunlight just above their
heads; but all the time he stood staring into the good old
gentleman's face.
It was Parson Jones who first spoke. "But what do all these
figures mean?" And Tom observed how the paper shook and rustled
in the tremor of excitement that shook his hand. He raised the
paper to the focus of his spectacles and began to read again.
"'Mark 40, 72, 91--'"
"Mark?" cried out Tom, almost screaming. "Why, that must mean
the stake yonder; that must be the mark." And he pointed to the
oaken stick with its red tip blazing against the white shimmer of
sand behind it.
"And the 40 and 72 and 91," cried the old gentleman, in a voice
equally shrill--"why, that must mean the number of steps the
pirate was counting when you heard him."
"To be sure that's what they mean!" cried Tom Chist. "That is
it, and it can be nothing else. Oh, come, sir--come, sir; let us
make haste and find it!"
"Stay! stay!" said the good gentleman, holding up his hand; and
again Tom Chist noticed how it trembled and shook. His voice was
steady enough, though very hoarse, but his hand shook and
trembled as though with a palsy. "Stay! stay! First of all, we
must follow these measurements. And 'tis a marvelous thing," he
croaked, after a little pause, "how this paper ever came to be
here."
"Maybe it was blown here by the storm," suggested Tom Chist.
"Like enough; like enough," said Parson Jones. "Like enough,
after the wretches had buried the chest and killed the poor black
man, they were so buffeted and bowsed about by the storm that it
was shook out of the man's pocket, and thus blew away from him
without his knowing aught of it."
"But let us find the box!" cried out Tom Chist, flaming with his
excitement.
"Aye, aye," said the good man; "only stay a little, my boy, until
we make sure what we're about. I've got my pocket compass here,
but we must have something to measure off the feet when we have
found the peg. You run across to Tom Brooke's house and fetch
that measuring rod he used to lay out his new byre. While you're
gone I'll pace off the distance marked on the paper with my
pocket compass here."
V
Tom Chist was gone for almost an hour, though he ran nearly all
the way and back, upborne as on the wings of the wind. When he
returned, panting, Parson Jones was nowhere to be seen, but Tom
saw his footsteps leading away inland, and he followed the
scuffling marks in the smooth surface across the sand humps and
down into the hollows, and by and by found the good gentleman in
a spot he at once knew as soon as he laid his eyes upon it.
It was the open space where the pirates had driven their first
peg, and where Tom Chist had afterward seen them kill the poor
black man. Tom Chist gazed around as though expecting to see some
sign of the tragedy, but the space was as smooth and as
undisturbed as a floor, excepting where, midway across it, Parson
Jones, who was now stooping over something on the ground, had
trampled it all around about.
When Tom Chist saw him he was still bending over, scraping away
from something he had found.
It was the first peg!
Inside of half an hour they had found the second and third pegs,
and Tom Chist stripped off his coat, and began digging like mad
down into the sand, Parson Jones standing over him watching him.
The sun was sloping well toward the west when the blade of Tom
Chist's spade struck upon something hard.
If it had been his own heart that he had hit in the sand his
breast could hardly have thrilled more sharply.
It was the treasure box!
Parson Jones himself leaped down into the hole, and began
scraping away the sand with his hands as though he had gone
crazy. At last, with some difficulty, they tugged and hauled the
chest up out of the sand to the surface, where it lay covered all
over with the grit that clung to it. It was securely locked and
fastened with a padlock, and it took a good many blows with the
blade of the spade to burst the bolt. Parson Jones himself lifted
the lid. Tom Chist leaned forward and gazed down into the open
box. He would not have been surprised to have seen it filled
full of yellow gold and bright jewels. It was filled half full of
books and papers, and half full of canvas bags tied safely and
securely around and around with cords of string.
Parson Jones lifted out one of the bags, and it jingled as he did
so. It was full of money.
He cut the string, and with trembling, shaking hands handed the
bag to Tom, who, in an ecstasy of wonder and dizzy with delight,
poured out with swimming sight upon the coat spread on the ground
a cataract of shining silver money that rang and twinkled and
jingled as it fell in a shining heap upon the coarse cloth.
Parson Jones held up both hands into the air, and Tom stared at
what he saw, wondering whether it was all so, and whether he was
really awake. It seemed to him as though he was in a dream.
There were two-and-twenty bags in all in the chest: ten of them
full of silver money, eight of them full of gold money, three of
them full of gold dust, and one small bag with jewels wrapped up
in wad cotton and paper.
"'Tis enough," cried out Parson Jones, "to make us both rich men
as long as we live."
The burning summer sun, though sloping in the sky, beat down upon
them as hot as fire; but neither of them noticed it. Neither did
they notice hunger nor thirst nor fatigue, but sat there as
though in a trance, with the bags of money scattered on the sand
around them, a great pile of money heaped upon the coat, and the
open chest beside them. It was an hour of sundown before Parson
Jones had begun fairly to examine the books and papers in the
chest.
Of the three books, two were evidently log books of the pirates
who had been lying off the mouth of the Delaware Bay all this
time. The other book was written in Spanish, and was evidently
the log book of some captured prize.
It was then, sitting there upon the sand, the good old gentleman
reading in his high, cracking voice, that they first learned from
the bloody records in those two books who it was who had been
lying inside the Cape all this time, and that it was the famous
Captain Kidd. Every now and then the reverend gentleman would
stop to exclaim, "Oh, the bloody wretch!" or, "Oh, the desperate,
cruel villains!" and then would go on reading again a scrap here
and a scrap there.
And all the while Tom Chist sat and listened, every now and then
reaching out furtively and touching the heap of money still lying
upon the coat.
One might be inclined to wonder why Captain Kidd had kept those
bloody records. He had probably laid them away because they so
incriminated many of the great people of the colony of New York
that, with the books in evidence, it would have been impossible
to bring the pirate to justice without dragging a dozen or more
fine gentlemen into the dock along with him. If he could have
sail to Injy in her, I'll fetch ye back the best chist of tea,
sir, that ever was fetched from Cochin Chiny."
Parson Jones burst out laughing. "Thankee, Tom," he said; "and
I'll thankee again when I get my chist of tea. But tell me, Tom,
didst thou ever hear of the farmer girl who counted her chickens
before they were hatched?"
It was thus they talked as they hurried along up the beach
together, and so came to a place at last where Tom stopped short
and stood looking about him. "'Twas just here," he said, "I saw
the boat last night. I know 'twas here, for I mind me of that
bit of wreck yonder, and that there was a tall stake drove in the
sand just where yon stake stands."
Parson Jones put on his barnacles and went over to the stake
toward which Tom pointed. As soon as he had looked at it
carefully he called out: "Why, Tom, this hath been just drove
down into the sand. 'Tis a brand- new stake of wood, and the
pirates must have set it here themselves as a mark, just as they
drove the pegs you spoke about down into the sand."
Tom came over and looked at the stake. It was a stout piece of
oak nearly two inches thick; it had been shaped with some care,
and the top of it had been painted red. He shook the stake and
tried to move it, but it had been driven or planted so deeply
into the sand that he could not stir it. "Aye, sir," he said, "it
must have been set here for a mark, for I'm sure 'twas not here
yesterday or the day before." He stood looking about him to see
if there were other signs of the pirates' presence. At some
little distance there was the corner of something white sticking
up out of the sand. He could see that it was a scrap of paper,
and he pointed to it, calling out: "Yonder is a piece of paper,
sir. I wonder if they left that behind them?"
It was a miraculous chance that placed that paper there. There
was only an inch of it showing, and if it had not been for Tom's
sharp eyes, it would certainly have been overlooked and passed
by. The next windstorm would have covered it up, and all that
afterward happened never would have occurred. "Look, sir," he
said, as he struck the sand from it, "it hath writing on it."
"Let me see it," said Parson Jones. He adjusted the spectacles a
little more firmly astride of his nose as he took the paper in
his hand and began conning it. "What's all this?" he said; "a
whole lot of figures and nothing else." And then he read aloud,
"'Mark--S. S. W. S. by S.' What d'ye suppose that means, Tom?"
"I don't know, sir," said Tom. "But maybe we can understand it
better if you read on."
"'Tis all a great lot of figures," said Parson Jones, "without a
grain of meaning in them so far as I can see, unless they be
sailing directions." And then he began reading again: "'Mark--S.
S. W. by S. 40, 72, 91, 130, 151, 177, 202, 232, 256, 271'--d'ye
see, it must be sailing directions-- '299, 335, 362, 386, 415,
446, 469, 491, 522, 544, 571, 598'--what a lot of them there be
'626, 652, 676, 695, 724, 851, 876, 905, 940, 967. Peg. S. E.
by E. 269 foot. Peg. S. S. W. by S. 427 foot. Peg. Dig to the
west of this six foot.' "
"What's that about a peg?" exclaimed Tom. "What's that about a
peg? And then there's something about digging, too!" It was as
though a sudden light began shining into his brain. He felt
himself growing quickly very excited. "Read that over again,
sir," he cried. "Why, sir, you remember I told you they drove a
peg into the sand. And don't they say to dig close to it? Read
it over again, sir--read it over again!"
"Peg?" said the good gentleman. "To be sure it was about a peg.
Let's look again. Yes, here it is. 'Peg S. E. by E. 269 foot.'"
"Aye!" cried out Tom Chist again, in great excitement. "Don't you
remember what I told you, sir, 269 foot? Sure that must be what I
saw 'em measuring with the line."
Parson Jones had now caught the flame of excitement that was
blazing up so strongly in Tom's breast. He felt as though some
wonderful thing was about to happen to them. "To be sure, to be
sure!" he called out, in a great big voice. "And then they
measured out 427 foot south-southwest by south, and they then
drove another peg, and then they buried the box six foot to the
west of it. Why, Tom--why, Tom Chist! if we've read this aright,
thy fortune is made."
Tom Chist stood staring straight at the old gentleman's excited
face, and seeing nothing but it in all the bright infinity of
sunshine. Were they, indeed, about to find the treasure chest? He
felt the sun very hot upon his shoulders, and he heard the harsh,
insistent jarring of a tern that hovered and circled with forked
tail and sharp white wings in the sunlight just above their
heads; but all the time he stood staring into the good old
gentleman's face.
It was Parson Jones who first spoke. "But what do all these
figures mean?" And Tom observed how the paper shook and rustled
in the tremor of excitement that shook his hand. He raised the
paper to the focus of his spectacles and began to read again.
"'Mark 40, 72, 91--'"
"Mark?" cried out Tom, almost screaming. "Why, that must mean
the stake yonder; that must be the mark." And he pointed to the
oaken stick with its red tip blazing against the white shimmer of
sand behind it.
"And the 40 and 72 and 91," cried the old gentleman, in a voice
equally shrill--"why, that must mean the number of steps the
pirate was counting when you heard him."
"To be sure that's what they mean!" cried Tom Chist. "That is
it, and it can be nothing else. Oh, come, sir--come, sir; let us
make haste and find it!"
"Stay! stay!" said the good gentleman, holding up his hand; and
again Tom Chist noticed how it trembled and shook. His voice was
steady enough, though very hoarse, but his hand shook and
trembled as though with a palsy. "Stay! stay! First of all, we
must follow these measurements. And 'tis a marvelous thing," he
croaked, after a little pause, "how this paper ever came to be
here."
"Maybe it was blown here by the storm," suggested Tom Chist.
"Like enough; like enough," said Parson Jones. "Like enough,
after the wretches had buried the chest and killed the poor black
man, they were so buffeted and bowsed about by the storm that it
was shook out of the man's pocket, and thus blew away from him
without his knowing aught of it."
"But let us find the box!" cried out Tom Chist, flaming with his
excitement.
"Aye, aye," said the good man; "only stay a little, my boy, until
we make sure what we're about. I've got my pocket compass here,
but we must have something to measure off the feet when we have
found the peg. You run across to Tom Brooke's house and fetch
that measuring rod he used to lay out his new byre. While you're
gone I'll pace off the distance marked on the paper with my
pocket compass here."
V
Tom Chist was gone for almost an hour, though he ran nearly all
the way and back, upborne as on the wings of the wind. When he
returned, panting, Parson Jones was nowhere to be seen, but Tom
saw his footsteps leading away inland, and he followed the
scuffling marks in the smooth surface across the sand humps and
down into the hollows, and by and by found the good gentleman in
a spot he at once knew as soon as he laid his eyes upon it.
It was the open space where the pirates had driven their first
peg, and where Tom Chist had afterward seen them kill the poor
black man. Tom Chist gazed around as though expecting to see some
sign of the tragedy, but the space was as smooth and as
undisturbed as a floor, excepting where, midway across it, Parson
Jones, who was now stooping over something on the ground, had
trampled it all around about.
When Tom Chist saw him he was still bending over, scraping away
from something he had found.
It was the first peg!
Inside of half an hour they had found the second and third pegs,
and Tom Chist stripped off his coat, and began digging like mad
down into the sand, Parson Jones standing over him watching him.
The sun was sloping well toward the west when the blade of Tom
Chist's spade struck upon something hard.
If it had been his own heart that he had hit in the sand his
breast could hardly have thrilled more sharply.
It was the treasure box!
Parson Jones himself leaped down into the hole, and began
scraping away the sand with his hands as though he had gone
crazy. At last, with some difficulty, they tugged and hauled the
chest up out of the sand to the surface, where it lay covered all
over with the grit that clung to it. It was securely locked and
fastened with a padlock, and it took a good many blows with the
blade of the spade to burst the bolt. Parson Jones himself lifted
the lid. Tom Chist leaned forward and gazed down into the open
box. He would not have been surprised to have seen it filled
full of yellow gold and bright jewels. It was filled half full of
books and papers, and half full of canvas bags tied safely and
securely around and around with cords of string.
Parson Jones lifted out one of the bags, and it jingled as he did
so. It was full of money.
He cut the string, and with trembling, shaking hands handed the
bag to Tom, who, in an ecstasy of wonder and dizzy with delight,
poured out with swimming sight upon the coat spread on the ground
a cataract of shining silver money that rang and twinkled and
jingled as it fell in a shining heap upon the coarse cloth.
Parson Jones held up both hands into the air, and Tom stared at
what he saw, wondering whether it was all so, and whether he was
really awake. It seemed to him as though he was in a dream.
There were two-and-twenty bags in all in the chest: ten of them
full of silver money, eight of them full of gold money, three of
them full of gold dust, and one small bag with jewels wrapped up
in wad cotton and paper.
"'Tis enough," cried out Parson Jones, "to make us both rich men
as long as we live."
The burning summer sun, though sloping in the sky, beat down upon
them as hot as fire; but neither of them noticed it. Neither did
they notice hunger nor thirst nor fatigue, but sat there as
though in a trance, with the bags of money scattered on the sand
around them, a great pile of money heaped upon the coat, and the
open chest beside them. It was an hour of sundown before Parson
Jones had begun fairly to examine the books and papers in the
chest.
Of the three books, two were evidently log books of the pirates
who had been lying off the mouth of the Delaware Bay all this
time. The other book was written in Spanish, and was evidently
the log book of some captured prize.
It was then, sitting there upon the sand, the good old gentleman
reading in his high, cracking voice, that they first learned from
the bloody records in those two books who it was who had been
lying inside the Cape all this time, and that it was the famous
Captain Kidd. Every now and then the reverend gentleman would
stop to exclaim, "Oh, the bloody wretch!" or, "Oh, the desperate,
cruel villains!" and then would go on reading again a scrap here
and a scrap there.
And all the while Tom Chist sat and listened, every now and then
reaching out furtively and touching the heap of money still lying
upon the coat.
One might be inclined to wonder why Captain Kidd had kept those
bloody records. He had probably laid them away because they so
incriminated many of the great people of the colony of New York
that, with the books in evidence, it would have been impossible
to bring the pirate to justice without dragging a dozen or more
fine gentlemen into the dock along with him. If he could have
- pointed [´pɔintid]
a.尖(锐)的；中肯的 (初中英语单词) - driven [´driv(ə)n] drive 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- writing [´raitiŋ] n.书写；写作；书法 (初中英语单词)
- firmly [´fə:mli] ad.坚固地，稳定地 (初中英语单词)
- reading [´ri:diŋ] n.(阅)读；朗读；读物 (初中英语单词)
- excitement [ik´saitmənt] n.兴奋；骚动；煽动 (初中英语单词)
- strongly [´strɔŋli] ad.强烈地；强有力地 (初中英语单词)
- sunlight [´sʌnlait] n.日光 (初中英语单词)
- marvelous [´mɑ:viləs] (=marvellous) a.奇异的 (初中英语单词)
- knowing [´nəuiŋ] a.会意的，心照不宣的 (初中英语单词)
- compass [´kʌmpəs] n.指南针；圆规 (初中英语单词)
- measure [´meʒə] n.量度；范围 vt.测量 (初中英语单词)
- tragedy [´trædʒidi] n.悲剧；惨案；灾难 (初中英语单词)
- standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- canvas [´kænvəs] n.帆布；油画(布) (初中英语单词)
- safely [´seifli] ad.安全地；平安地 (初中英语单词)
- coarse [kɔ:s] a.粗(糙)的；粗鲁的 (初中英语单词)
- hunger [´hʌŋgə] n.饥饿；渴望 (初中英语单词)
- thirst [θə:st] n.渴，口渴；渴望 (初中英语单词)
- evidently [´evidəntli] ad.明显地 (初中英语单词)
- bloody [´blʌdi] a.(流)血的；血腥的 (初中英语单词)
- hurried [´hʌrid] a.仓促的，慌忙的 (高中英语单词)
- parson [´pɑ:sən] n.教区牧师 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- nowhere [´nəuweə] n.无处；不知道 (高中英语单词)
- inland [´inlənd, in´lænd] a.&n.内地的 ad.在内地 (高中英语单词)
- ecstasy [´ekstəsi] n.狂喜；出神，入迷 (高中英语单词)
- fatigue [fə´ti:g] n.&vt.(使)疲劳(劳累) (高中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- reverend [´revərənd] a.可尊敬的 (高中英语单词)
- pirate [´paiərət] n.海盗 v.做海盗；掠夺 (高中英语单词)
- hoarse [hɔ:s] a.嘶哑的；嗓门粗哑的 (英语四级单词)
- flaming [´fleimiŋ] a.熊熊燃烧的；热情的 (英语四级单词)
- midway [,mid´wei] n.中途 ad.&a.中途(的) (英语四级单词)
- cataract [´kætərækt] n.大瀑布；白内障 (英语四级单词)
- touching [´tʌtʃiŋ] a.动人的 prep.提到 (英语四级单词)
- calling [´kɔ:liŋ] n.点名；职业；欲望 (英语六级单词)
- miraculous [mi´rækjuləs] a.非凡的；奇迹般的 (英语六级单词)
- shimmer [´ʃimə] v.&n.闪烁；微微发光 (英语六级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- securely [si´kjuəli] ad.安全地；无疑地 (英语六级单词)
- trance [trɑ:ns] n.恍惚；出神 (英语六级单词)
- sundown [´sʌndaun] n.日落 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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