Cursed be the treasure
thrashed the slaves into obedience. But for a long while the search
was unsuccessful, the valley guarding well its secret; till one day
sounding along the hillside a rock rang hollow, and the entrance was
found.
Then there was feverish labour, and the slaves were driven till they
fell; and through tunnel after tunnel a way was cleared, and every one
knew that the treasure was at hand. Then breaking through a low sealed
door there was the sound of chanting, and before them a grotesque
company of priests were at their worship in a strange shrine beneath
the earth; and the walls were glittering with precious stones and gold.
There was silence for a moment as the robbers shrank back surprised;
but the captain cried "On!" and the mate bounded forward and the crew
followed, and without mercy or quarter the priests were slaughtered as
they kneeled; save for one old fellow, who, standing before the altar,
shrieked a terrible curse at the invaders, and laid his magic on the
treasure, bidding it be ruin and madness and death on all who touched
it. But before the words of his enemies could reach him he had drawn a
knife and sheathed it in his breast.
Then the pillage started. By now the meaning of the mutterings on
shipboard began to be understood. For there was a conspiracy on foot.
The crew were divided into two parties, one abiding by the captain, the
other having elected a captain of their own intending to mutiny when
the hour was ripe and follow their own leader. Moreover they allied
themselves with the wretched slaves, promising them their freedom if
they obeyed. And so when half the treasure was carried from the shrine,
there was a sudden slashing of bonds and crying of orders and shouts
and curses and the noise of stampeding men; for the mutineers had so
contrived it that they should free the slaves who had sworn obedience
to them, and at a given signal fly from the shrine, and rolling a
tremendous boulder down the narrowing tunnel block up the entrance and
so entomb their enemies alive. The plan was well arranged, and the
signal was given. There was a rush for the door, for a party outside
had loosened the great boulder till it needed but a push to send it
crashing down the passage. So the last of the conspirators came flying
for safety, and behind him, not quite understanding the business,
but knowing something terrible was on foot, came the immense form of
the mate, rolling out oaths and curses. But the boulder was already
loosened, and lurching forward it gathered speed, and grinding the
shrieking mate to the wall crashed into place, sealing up the door for
ever and entombing the wretches beyond in a living death.
Then there began a terrible journey back to the coast; for it seemed to
the rebels that the curse of the old priest clung about their spoil.
Their leader, whom they now called captain, would wake at night to
hear cryings out of the earth, and whenever he lay down to sleep the
voices of his enemies seemed to echo through the ground, muffled but
pitiful. And sometimes he awoke to think he was lying in a pool of
blood, and sprang up shouting that the smell of murder was making him
mad. And others too said they were being followed by an underground
rumbling like the hollow presage of earthquake, and they declared the
earth heaved beneath them as though something were struggling to break
through. Even the natives felt the terror in their hearts, and by ones
and twos they dropped their burdens and slunk away into the night, for
they said they were touching accursed stuff and the gods were angry. So
the watch became more strict; and as the number of bearers diminished
the remnant were again chained and driven, and the new masters were
little better than the old. But it wasn't now the lust of gold that
was making them cruel, but the secret dread that gnawed at their souls
maddening them and making them like frenzied beasts rather than like
men.
Then the fever struck them; and first one and then another stumbled
from the file, and dropped behind crying piteously to his comrades
to stay for him. But fear was upon that company, and they pressed on
the faster thinking to escape the claws of disease which snatched at
them from behind. And one night a storm arose from nowhere and smote
at them with jagged barbs of lightning, and in the morning three were
found horribly twisted, and scorched out of recognition. So they called
the roll to see who were missing; and Jack Priest mumbled a prayer
and scattered a handful of dust upon them, and they were left by the
wayside for the beasts and the birds. And then they lost their way, and
suddenly were plunging through a morass; and there two were trapped in
the oozy soil, and sinking slowly cried with frantic appeal for help;
but no one would venture to go near them. And before they had well
disappeared, while yet their hands waved feebly above the rank mud,
and their faces still gazed living at the sky, reaching upward for the
last breath of air, the priest had crossed himself and gabbled a prayer
for the welfare of their souls; and again they pressed onward. And
another a snake bit, and he died raving; and another gathered poisonous
berries, and perished writhing in pain. And ever it seemed the curse
was upon them, dogging them at heel, snatching a victim here and a
victim there, till the shadow was over all, and none knew when his own
turn would come. For it might be a prowling beast in the night, or a
slip from a rock by day, or some hateful creature of the river when one
went down to drink: fate pursued them in a thousand forms, and snares
were laid for them everywhere.
And yet through the whole of that terrible journey not a native
perished, of those at least who stayed with them.
So at last they sighted the sea, and a cry of thanksgiving arose; but
it sounded like a wail of despair. Broken and tired and shaken to the
soul they reached their ship, half fearing to find it burnt or sunk;
and carrying the treasure aboard they set sail with all speed and
steered away from the ill-fated land.
But their doom wasn't averted; only delayed. For storm and calm alike
took toll of their number, hurling them into the sea, or bringing
black plague from the heat-laden air to settle upon the vessel like a
brooding bird. They were wasted with illness and labour, and their home
seemed at the other end of the world.
Then the captain conceived of a plan: he called upon the priest to
bless the treasure and remove the curse which had been laid upon it.
At first the priest was terrified, and refused; but, as usual, present
danger was more insistent with him than future peril, and when he
saw the men were desperate and would murder him if he held back, he
consented. But during the exorcism a wind arose and blew out the sacred
candles. And when he would have poured holy water upon the treasure,
the ship lurched and the water was spilt. So the captain wearily bade
him desist, for it seemed like struggling against all the powers of
heaven and hell.
Yet not even the priest said, "Let us throw the accursed thing into the
sea."
So they clung to their gold and abided their doom. One by one the hand
reached for them and they perished, and their comrades cast them into
the hungry water, dry-eyed and unheeding as though they knew the thing
must be, and only wishing that for them too the hour had struck. There
were none left to man the ropes; but the sails remained spread or
furled as might be, and the captain stood at the wheel like one in a
daze, while the ship moved on to whatever wind might blow. Till at last
before them rose the cliffs of England; but there were only the captain
and the priest and one other left alive to see them. The captain and
the priest didn't speak a word; they didn't even smile, but stood
staring stupidly as though it mattered not at all whether this were
England or the other side of the ocean. But the third man threw up his
hands and let out a great cheer; but a vessel burst in his lungs, and
he bent down in sudden pain choking blood, and fell to the deck dead.
The captain looked at the priest, and the priest crossed himself, and
going to the man muttered swiftly, and with his foot spurned him over
the side....
So the story proceeded. I remember how the captain went mad, and
wandering from place to place would tell his tale in penance, and so
pass on and away. And none of us there but pitied him, for we knew he
had been snared into his sin, and the judgment was over heavy. But
the priest took the treasure and would have devoted it to the work
of Holy Church. So at first he built a chapel; but the foundation
was ill-laid, and in a storm the holy house lurched and fell. And he
built a hospital, but a fire broke out, and the place was burnt to its
foundations. And he chartered a ship to take a band of missionaries
to the heathen; but the ship struck an unknown rock at the harbour
mouth, and sank. And at last he knew that the thing was accursed beyond
redemption; so he sought out a tunnel in the earth, and winding through
many passages and caverns he laid the treasure in a secret place, and
with the aid of a company of men set a mighty stone upon the entrance,
and went his way.
But before he died he felt the need of confessing himself to Heaven;
for he knew that the guilt of all those deaths was partly weighing
on his soul; so he wrote the story out fair and truly for the eye
of Heaven alone, as he intended it, telling of the burial place of
all that evil gold, and laying upon it the curse of Holy Church to
reinforce the curse it already bore. But as he wrote the last word, and
leant back to rest after his labour, a spasm caught at his heart, and
he sank down dead....
I was expecting the story to end here; but there was more of it. But
before my father continued he lit the lamp and passed round the wine.
We looked at each other, very quiet for a moment; then breathed deeply,
and lifted our glasses.
But I needn't repeat all the second part of the story, though it
would show the wonderful fertility of my father's imagination. For
the manuscript was found and passed on from one to another. And first
this man and then that would seek for that hidden treasure. But the
old curse and the new bore terrible fruit, for all who succeeded in
touching the gold were smitten with plague or madness, or were beguiled
unwittingly into some frightful crime which poisoned all their life
with clinging bitterness and remorse. None escaped. And there beneath
the earth, a temptation and a terror, that treasure still waited for
any bold or holy enough to dare its menace or exorcise its spell.
CHAPTER XI
THE GHOST
When my father lit the lamp for the second time there was more than one
white face; for the story had been told with such a creepy emphasis
that we had been lifted away from familiar things to an atmosphere of
stealthy influences and subtle spells. For a couple of hours or more we
had lived in the grip of a fatal and powerful curse. Something which
wasn't of the earth we knew had caught us in its toils. We had moved in
the company of men whose lives weren't their own, whose very shadows
seemed like avenging spirits stalking in their wake.
To look round once more upon the lighted room, to hear my father say
cheerily, "Well, fill up again before you go," was to come back with an
almost dizzying rush to common earth. But in a moment the room was once
again full of clamour. Exclamations of delight and appeals for more
rose spontaneously to the lips of most of us. But my father wouldn't
indulge us further; and the glasses were raised and emptied, and my
visitors were turned out into the cold night to make the best of their
way back to the school.