  Day followed day, and week succeeded week, and the good ship Osprey kept steadily on her way. Guy was not seasick, rather to his own surprise. “You seem to be cut out for a sailor. Guy,” said the captain. “I don’t know about that.” “You enjoy the sea, do you not?” “Yes, sir; but I don’t think I should care to be a sailor.” “You are picking up a good deal of seamanship. It won’t be long before you know every rope in the ship.” “Knowledge doesn’t come amiss, captain. I have an inquiring mind.” They rounded the Cape of Good Hope at length, and soon found themselves in the Indian Ocean. It would not be long before they would reach the neighborhood of the island which was the goal of Guy’s hopes and expectations. Till now he had not thought particularly what he would do when he got there. It would be small satisfaction to see the island, if perchance he should, and not be able to stop there. What could he do? Alone, he was quite aware that he could do nothing. It was absolutely necessary that he should make a confidant of someone, and of someone who could be of service in helping him carry out his cherished plan. Evidently there was no one on the Osprey who answered this description except the captain; but how would the captain look upon this plan? Captain Grover was a pleasant man, and a good friend, but how he would regard Guy’s project was something that could not be guessed. Guy decided, however, to tell his secret and sound the captain. Already they had passed the southern point of Madagascar, and Guy felt that there was no time to be lost. He had free access to the captain at all times, and he took the opportunity of entering his cabin one evening when the first mate was taking his turn in commanding the vessel. “Well, Guy, how goes it?” asked the captain, pleasantly. “I am tired. You can talk to me.” “That is just what I want to do, captain,” said Guy. “Heave ahead, then. I am listening. Perhaps you have some advice to give me as to the management of the vessel.” “I have, captain. I wish you would be guided by me.” “Well,” said Captain Grover, eyeing his young companion with curiosity, “I am getting more than I bargained for. Please favor me with your suggestions, Captain Guy.” He said this with a pleasant smile, for he really liked his young passenger, apart from the friendship he felt for the father. “I wish, captain, you could be induced to visit the Agalegas Islands in your course.” “What on earth do you know about the Agalegas Islands, Guy?” “I know, or am very confident, that one of them was used by a band of pirates as a hiding place for treasure which they had collected from those they had robbed.” “Where did you read about this?” asked the captain, abruptly. “Not in any book,” answered Guy, “but in a letter written by my uncle George.” “Your sailor uncle?” “Yes.” “And was this your object in coming to sea with me?” “Yes, sir.” “Let me know what your uncle George said. I attach no importance to it, but I have a feeling of curiosity. He was never a pirate, was he?” “I hope not.” “Then how could he know anything of pirate treasures?” “I have his letter, captain. Would you mind hearing it?” “No; but first, where did you get the letter?” Guy told the story of his search in the attic, and his discovery of the letter in George Brandon’s chest. “Very well. Now for the letter. Read it to me.” In a slow, deliberate manner, in order that it might be fully understood, Guy read the letter. The accompanying paper, however, he did not produce. He did not care to give away the whole secret unless he was assured of the captain’s co-operation. “This is a strange yarn,” was Captain Grover’s comment, after he had heard the letter through. “Don’t you believe it?” asked Guy, quickly. “It sounds plausible,” answered the captain, slowly, “but I have heard a great many stories about pirate treasure. Plenty of sailors are ready to manufacture them. They tell them so often that at last they come to believe them themselves.” “My uncle George would not indulge in deception.” “I presume not, but I am not so sure as to the sailor from whom he received the information.” “The sailor was on his deathbed. Would a man be likely to tell a falsehood at such a time?” “No doubt it has been done often. However, the paper which he gave to your uncle was not written when he was on his deathbed, as I understand, but some time before, when he was perfectly well, and had no idea of death.” “That is true,” Guy was obliged to admit. “I don’t see what object he could have had in deceiving my uncle, though,” he added, after a pause. “Nor I.” “Then you think there may be something in it?” “There is such a possibility.” “Think what a great thing it would be for us to find the treasure,” said Guy, his face lighting up with enthusiasm. “It would be very agreeable, certainly; but there are some serious obstacles in the way, even if we knew the treasure to be there.” “What obstacles, captain?” “The islands you refer to are considerably to the north of my usual course, and my duty to the owners of the vessel would not permit me to vary my route for any private enterprise of my own.” Guy’s countenance fell. He saw at once that the captain was right in his statement, but it destroyed the faint hopes he had entertained that he might secure his co-operation. “I am afraid,” he said, despondently, “you don’t have any confidence in the existence of the treasure.” “I don’t say that, Guy. It may exist; but unless you have clear and explicit directions, we might miss it even if we should go especially in search of it.” “But I have a description of the island,” urged Guy. “Suppose you give me an idea of it.” “It is well wooded to within a mile of the shore; toward the center there is a hill, or slight eminence, perhaps a hundred and fifty feet in altitude. The extent of it is probably five miles by eight.” “That is tolerably definite.” “Don’t you think it is sufficiently so to identify the island?” “Perhaps so; but, though small, one might hunt a good while before finding the treasure after the island was discovered.” “I have some directions that would help me.” “That is well, or would be if there were any chance of your ever finding yourself on the island.” “Captain Grover, I want to ask your advice. Can you suggest any way by which I can manage to reach the island?” “You’ve got me there, Guy. These islands are never visited for commercial purposes. I know almost nothing of them—indeed, nothing at all, except their location. Of course, if there were ships that visited them for any purpose, that would simplify matters; but, so far as I see, the only way of seeking the treasure would be to organize an expedition expressly for that purpose.” “I suppose that would be very expensive.” “It certainly would.” “But if the treasure were found, the one who incurred the expense would be richly repaid.” “Well, perhaps so,” said the captain, skeptically. “You won’t go anywhere near the island, then, captain?” “No, Guy, I sha’n’t.” Guy sat quiet a moment. He was very much disappointed. He began to realize how utterly quixotic was the expedition on which he had embarked. “I begin to wish I had never found the letter,” he said. “As to that, Guy, no harm is done. I presume, if you hadn’t found the letter, I should not have had the pleasure of your company on this voyage.” “No, I suppose not.” “Probably you will derive some pleasure and benefit from the trip, even if you never touch a dollar of this treasure.” “That is true, captain; but I have a special reason for wishing I might obtain money from this source, or some other.” “What is it?” Then Guy told what he had learned as to Deacon Crane’s intention of driving his father from the parish. It would be a heavy blow to the minister, who was no longer endowed with a young man’s energy or hopefulness. “You are a good boy, Guy, to have so much consideration for your father; but I am afraid you |
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