the breeze was light at daybreak, and while the island still loomed shapeless and shadowy across the leaden water the yacht’s gig brought clay’s diver and an excellent set of pumps. as soon as they were rigged the diver and moran went below and took their turn with the others during the first half of the day, for there was still a good deal to be done before they could clear a passage into the hold. they sent clay word of their progress and at noon aynsley was rowed across to the sloop.
“although you refused last night, i hope you’ll come on board to lunch,” he said, after greeting them pleasantly.
“we have too much on hand,” jimmy replied. “in fact, we’re not going to stop for a meal. it’s unusually fine weather and we must get into the strong-room before dark. i expect it will take us three or four hours yet.”
“it’s a good excuse,” returned aynsley. “in a way, i’m glad you’re too busy to come, because i imagine my father is very keen on finishing the job, and i don’t want him to get worrying about the delay.” he paused, and added frankly: “i’m going to ask a favor. he’s not well, and i gather that you and he are to some extent opposed. now i can’t expect you to sacrifice your interest, but you might try to avoid any heated dispute as far as possible. excitement isn’t good for him.”
“we can promise that,” said jimmy. “it looks as if you knew nothing about the business.”
“i don’t. and, more than that, i have no wish to learn anything.”
“we’re not in a position to tell you much if you pressed us; but it struck us that your father wasn’t looking very fit, and it might be better if you stopped him from going down.”
“i can’t,” aynsley answered with a smile. “i’m afraid i haven’t much control over him.”
early in the evening clay came on board and sat in the cockpit while the men relieved each other below. he asked a question now and then, but for the most part waited quietly, watching the bubbles that rose in milky effervescence.
at last the diver came up, and was followed closely by bethune, bringing a rope.
“the strong-room’s open,” he said exultantly. “heave on that line and see what you get!”
moran pulled with a will, for there was some resistance to be overcome, and jimmy leaned down in strong excitement when a wooden case smeared with sand broke the surface. seizing it he came near to being dragged over the rail, and bethune had to help him to lift it on board. clay examined the case coolly, studying the half-washed-out marks.
“you ought to get something handsome for salvage on that, and i won’t contest your claim,” he said. “keep it on board if you like; our diver’s paid by the day. now, if you’re ready, we’ll go down.”
they carefully fastened on his dress, but when bethune gave him a few instructions he said his own man had told him all he needed to know during the voyage. jimmy put on his helmet and went first down the ladder, waiting at the bottom for clay. it was, he felt, a strange experience to be walking along the sea-floor with a man who had been his enemy; but he was now master of the situation. indeed, he had to help his companion when they reached the entrance to the hold and he did not think that clay could have crept up the dark passage between the shaft tunnel and the hanging weed on the ship’s crushed side without his assistance. their lamps glimmered feebly through the water that sucked in and out, and it was no easy matter to keep signal-lines and air-pipes clear. clay, however, though awkward and somewhat feeble in his movements, showed no want of nerve.
when they crawled into the strong-room he stood still, moving his lamp. the pale flashes wavered to and fro, searching the rough, iron-bound planks, until they stopped, fixed upon one spot. clay beckoned jimmy toward it, and then, losing his balance, lurched and swayed in a ludicrous manner before he could steady himself. jimmy thought the man must be mistaken, for he had indicated a plank in the deck between two iron plates, although, as the wreck had fallen over, the plank was on one side of them, instead of being overhead. he turned to clay with a questioning motion of his hands, but the flicker of light was still fixed upon the same spot. jimmy raised the crowbar he had brought and drove it into a joint nearly level with his head, and clay indicated that he was doing right.
jimmy knew that he had no time to lose. clay was not in good health, and had already been under water as long as was safe for a man unaccustomed to the pressure. if he broke down, it would be difficult to get him out of the hold. for all that, jimmy was reluctant to abandon the search a moment before it was necessary. it was getting dark, the stream was gaining strength, and it did not seem probable that any one could get down again that night. jimmy wanted to finish his task.
the beam he attacked was soft, but two bolts ran through it and an iron strap was clamped along its edge. the rotten timber tore away in flakes, but jimmy could not break out a large piece, and the iron fastenings deflected his bar. he glanced at his companion, who encouraged him by a gesture; and then fell to work again with determined energy. he did not know how long he continued, but he was disturbed by a movement of the water and saw clay swaying slackly to and fro. it looked as if he were about to fall, but his heavy boots and buoyant dress kept him upright. still he might go down, and jimmy knew that it is hard to recover one’s balance in a diving dress. clay must be got out at once. jimmy seized his arm and made his way toward the opening, thrusting his companion along the side of the shaft tunnel.
it was with keen relief that he dragged him clear of the splintered beams at the entrance to the hold and stepped out on the level bottom of the sea. no light came down through the water, even the shadow of the sloop above was no longer discernible; but jimmy had his signal-line for guide and followed it with his hand on clay’s shoulder, until he distinguished the ripple of the tide about the ladder.
pushing his companion toward it, he watched his clumsy ascent and then clambered up. when he got on board clay was sitting on deck, but he sank back limply against the cabin top as they took his helmet off. it was nearly dark, but they could see that his lips were blue, and that his livid face was mottled by faint purple patches. he gasped once or twice, and then began to fumble awkwardly at the breast of the diving dress.
“i know what he wants!” cried aynsley. “get these things off him as quick as you can! somebody bring me a spoon!”
they hurriedly stripped the canvas covering from the half-conscious man, and, taking a small bottle from his vest pocket, gave him a few drops of the liquid. it took effect, for in a few moments clay feebly raised himself.
“better now; not used to diving,” he said, and turned to jimmy as aynsley and a seaman helped him into the waiting gig. “we’ll get the case next time.”
the gig pulled away, and the three men watched it disappear into the darkness.
“it’s lucky you were able to bring him up,” bethune observed.
“i was scared at first,” jimmy confessed. “perhaps i should have come up sooner, but he seemed determined to stop.”
“what about the case?”
“we hadn’t time to get at it. you see, it’s not in the strong-room. he made me start cutting out the underside of the deck.”
“the deck!” exclaimed moran. “then they must have put the stuff in the poop cabin!”
“i don’t think so. i expect there’s a shallow space between the main beams and the cabin floor.”
“and that’s where the case is? it strikes me as curious; distinctly curious!”
“i dare say; i didn’t think of that. the most important thing is that we ought to reach the case in about an hour.”
“it’s too risky. the tide’s running strong now, and it’s going to be very dark. we have kept clear of serious trouble so far, and i see no sign of wind.”
jimmy reluctantly agreed to wait until the morning and bethune went below to get supper ready.
at daybreak aynsley pulled across in the yacht’s small dinghy, and his face had an anxious look as he entered the cetacea’s cabin, where jimmy was cleaning some of the pump fittings by lamplight.
“how is mr. clay?” jimmy asked.
“he looks very ill. i left him getting up and sculled across as quietly as i could to have a talk with you. can you do anything to prevent his going down? i don’t think he’s fit for it.”
“i’m afraid not. you see, we’re at variance, in a way, and if we made any objections he’d get suspicious.”
“you couldn’t play some trick with the diving gear? i’m worried about him; the pressure and exertion might be dangerous.”
“we might put our own pump out of action, but we couldn’t meddle with yours, and he might insist on going alone.”
“that wouldn’t do,” said aynsley. “i wouldn’t hesitate to smash our outfit, but he’d get so savage about it that the excitement would do more harm than the diving.”
“then you’ll have to reason with him.”
aynsley smiled.
“i’ve been trying it ever since we dropped anchor, and it hasn’t been a success; you don’t know my father.” he gave jimmy a steady look. “he means you to be his companion, and although i’ve no claim on you, i want you to promise that you’ll take care of him.”
everything considered, it struck jimmy as curious that he should be the recipient of this request; but he sympathized with aynsley, and imagined that his anxiety was justified. clay had treated them harshly, but he was ill and apparently powerless to injure them further.
“very well,” he promised. “i’ll do the best i can.”
“thanks!” responded aynsley in a grateful tone. “i can trust you, and i’ve a notion that my father feels safe in your hands; though he’s not confiding, as a rule.”
“if you’ll wait a minute we’ll give you some coffee,” bethune said hospitably.
“no, thanks!” replied aynsley. “i must get back before i’m missed. there’d be trouble if my irascible father guessed why i’d come here.”
he jumped into the dinghy and sculled her silently into the mist that drifted between the vessels; and half an hour later clay came off with the diver in the gig. his face had a gray, pinched look, and jimmy noticed that he breathed rather hard after the slight effort of getting on board the sloop.
“i think you had better let me finish the job, sir,” he said. “you’d be more comfortable if you waited quietly on board until we brought up the case.”
“i’m going down,” clay answered shortly. “you might not be able to get at it without my help.”
“anyway, you can wait until we break through the deck. it will shorten the time you need stay below.”
after some demur, clay agreed to this; but he suggested that moran and bethune should clear the ground instead of sending his own diver, and in a few minutes they were under water. it was some time before they came up, and when they had undressed clay looked hard at bethune.
“have you cut the hole?” he asked.
“yes,” said bethune; “i think it’s big enough.”
“you didn’t go through?”
“no; we’d been down quite long enough.”
“give me that brandy,” clay said to a steward in the waiting gig, and turned to jimmy when he had drained a small wineglass. “now we’ll get to work as soon as we can.”
jimmy went down the ladder and clay followed him steadily across the sand. the tide was low, the stream slack, and the dim green water was filled with strange refractions of the growing light above. the sloop rode overhead, a patch of opaque shadow, and the wreck loomed up, black and shapeless, in front. they reached her without trouble, and jimmy switched on his lamp and carefully cleared clay’s air-pipe and line before he crawled into the dark gap. the man seemed to move with greater ease and confidence than he had shown on the previous day, and jimmy felt reassured as he guided him along the side of the shaft tunnel. glancing at the long streamers of weed that wavered mysteriously through the gloom, he remembered the sense of fear and shrinking he had had to overcome on his first few descents. it looked as if he need not be anxious about his companion.
it was more difficult to get him into the strong-room, but they entered it safely and jimmy saw that bethune and moran had thrown up a bank of sand under the hole between the beams. this would make it easier to reach, but as he was arranging his air-pipe preparatory to entering clay made an imperative sign. jimmy felt surprised, because the man obviously meant that he was going first. though it would not be hard to scramble up after seizing a timber, the feat would require some exertion, and jimmy tried to make this clear, but clay disregarded his signaled objections. it was impossible to explain himself properly in pantomime, and, as clay seemed determined, jimmy let him go. he might grow suspicious and perhaps combative if force were used to detain him.
jimmy helped him up, and then felt anxious as clay’s swollen legs and heavy boots disappeared through the hole. the space above must be low, and was probably cumbered with wreckage, but jimmy saw that clay’s air-pipe and signal-line ran steadily through the gap, which implied that he found no difficulty in moving about. faint flashes of light, broken up into wavering reflections, came out of the hole and jimmy switched off his lamp so that he could see them better. though he meant to keep his promise to aynsley, he admitted that the tension he felt was not solely on clay’s account. the recovery of the case was of great importance to his party, and if they failed to secure it now a change in the weather might frustrate the next attempt or perhaps place the gold altogether out of reach.
after a while it struck jimmy that clay ought to come out. the man was unaccustomed to diving and was in precarious health; moreover, if he could not get at the case, jimmy meant to try. he pulled the line, and got a signal in answer that gave him no excuse for interfering; so he waited until the pipe and line began to run backward. then a light flashed sharply as if in warning, and as jimmy turned on his lamp a dark object fell from the gap. it was large and square and, striking the sand with its edge, darkened the disturbed water.
thrilled with a sense of triumph, jimmy turned to help clay, who was coming out of the hole; but as clay’s legs dangled he lost his grip and fell backward. he did not come down violently, but sank until one foot touched the sand, and then made fantastic contortions. his buoyant dress supported him and he looked a grotesque figure as he lurched about. jimmy, however, was alarmed, for it dawned on him that this was not the result of inexperienced clumsiness. clay had lost control of his limbs: he was too weak to keep the balance between his heavy helmet and his weighted boots. indeed, he was obviously helpless, and it would be a difficult task to get him out of the wreck; but it must be set about at once.
jimmy dragged him through the opening into the hold and felt keen relief when he saw that both pipes ran clear; then he guided him to the tunnel and, letting him lean on it, pushed him along. clay was a big, heavy man, but his weight was counteracted by the air in his dress, and he could be moved with a push almost like a floating object. sometimes he moved too far and fell away from the tunnel. jimmy long afterward remembered with a shudder the time they spent in reaching the outlet. he could not use his lamp, because he needed both hands; and he was horribly afraid that the pipes and lines might get foul. he believed that he threw clay down and dragged him out into the open water by his helmet, but he had only a hazy recollection of the matter.
when they reached the level sand, jimmy signaled urgently with his line, and got a reply. then the rope he looped round clay’s shoulders tightened and he guided and steadied him as they were drawn toward the ladder. a few moments later clay was lifted on to the cetacea’s deck, and jimmy sat down on the cabin top, feeling very limp.
when somebody took off his helmet he saw clay lying on the deck, with aynsley bending over him holding a spoon to his mouth. jimmy thought he could not get him to take the restorative, but he was too dazed and exhausted to notice clearly, and shortly afterward clay was lifted into the gig. it headed for the yacht, the crew pulling hard, and jimmy turned to bethune.
“i was afraid i couldn’t get him up,” he said weakly. “he seems pretty bad.”
“i think he is; but you don’t look fit yourself.”
“the dizziness is the worst,” murmured jimmy. “i’ll go below and lie down. but i’m forgetting; we found the case.”
bethune helped him into the cabin, and made him comfortable on a locker. he had a bad headache and a curious sense of heaviness which grew worse when the pain lessened. in a short time, however, he had fallen into a deep sleep.
and while he slept, moran went below and brought up the case.
