The Recipe for Diamonds Part 10

I could not get clear of him for a good half-hour, and in the end was only able to raise what I expected--to wit, a broad-bladed triangular hoe with a short crooked handle. However, as we did not propose to go in for any systematic navvying, and as there was nothing better to be got, back I went with it, and found Weems quite alive again, and on the prowl for what he could find.

"The soil has been turned up here in places," said he, pointing, "and this is just the side where, according to Lully's diary, the entrance pa.s.sage lies. And if you notice, there are other patches rooted up yonder, and again yonder."

"Pigs," said I. "This island's celebrated for them, and so is Mallorca.

Black, elegant, well-to-do swine, that are exported to Spain in steamer-loads. They're the most celebrated breed of porkers in Europe.

But never mind them now. Which do you spot as our point of commencement?"

"Somewhere between where we are standing and that palm-bush."

"Very well, then. We'll set to work at the other side of this fallen wall-stone; and here goes for the first drive."

For a while we took spell and spell about at the hoe, working like fiends. I had stripped to the vest at the first set-off, and by degrees Weems let his eagerness overpower dignity till he had discarded a similar number of garments. There was not a breath of air stirring, and the sunbeams poured down upon us in a brazen stream. Being used to hard work, I naturally could do the larger share; but to give the little schoolmaster his due, he did stick to it for all he was worth; and though he did drop more than one hint that such physical toil was degrading to a man in his station, he didn't try to shirk doing his just portion.

The ground was desperately hard to get through. There was very little soil. What we came across chiefly were stones fallen from the sides of the Talayot woven together by a network of roots. Over these we hacked and sweated and strained, and tore our hands and wrenched our sinews.

And by degrees the heap of big stones and smaller stones and rubble and earth and other debris grew larger amongst the bushes, and our jagged pit sank deeper.

Those hours were the only ones in which I ever felt the smallest respect for Weems. He hadn't chucked away his bless-you-I-know-best air by any means. For instance, scorning example, he plucked a p.r.i.c.kly pear off a clump that grew out of the Talayot, and sucked the pulp out of the skin in spite of seeing me devour one in other fashion. And then he complained of the d.a.m.nableness of a needle-sown palate. Also he persisted in following his own theories about the extraction of the large stones, although these seldom came off. But he stuck at work like a Trojan, and one can't help having some respect for a man who keeps his thews in action.

Whilst the white sun burned to overhead, and whilst it fell half-way to the water again, did we hack and grovel and wrench, till our pit was well-nigh twelve feet deep, and we were beginning to have dismal forebodings that we were either delving in the wrong place, or that Raymond the philosopher had lied most unkindly. But at last, when we were both nearly sick with weariness and growing disgust, we came upon a flat stone which rang hollow when the hoe struck it, and in an instant our hopes sprang to a feverish height again.

Weems tugged at the edges of the stone, screaming and swearing in his excitement; but it had lain in that bed for many ages, and would not budge for such puny efforts as his. From the lip of the pit I was bawling at him to come up out of the way; but not until he had strained himself well-nigh senseless would he unlock his fingers from their grip, and even then he would not voluntarily resign his place. But I could not wait. Sliding down into the pit, I hoisted him on to my shoulder and gave an upward heave, and then turned-to with the hoe, battering savagely.

The flagstone was of granite, and I doubled up my weapon but scarcely splintered the hard surface. So the edges had to be dug round laboriously; and even then, when thoroughly loose, the weight was so great that I could scarcely lift it. But at last the great slab was heaved up on edge, and below there lay a hole whose blackness almost choked the falling sunbeams. The sight of it--or the wet earthy smell which came through--somehow made me shiver.

I looked up. Weems was craning over the edge of the pit, his eyes goggling, and lips drawn back from his clenched teeth. He looked unpleasant, to say the least of it, and a thought dangerous as well.

There was a bit of the wild beast peeping out somewhere.

"Come along," said I.

"How can we see?"

"Oh, I forgot that. Feel for matches in my coat pocket."

"I've better than matches. A candle; what do you say to that?"

Still he stayed glowering at me.

"Well, why the devil don't you go and get it, man?" I asked.

"Oh yes, to be sure," said he, and disappeared.

"You'll go mad, my son," thought I, "if your delicate nerves are kept under this strain much longer," and leaned back panting against the side. The fellow seemed to take a long time hunting for what he wanted, but at last I heard the sound of his footsteps and looked up.

Lucky for me did I look up then too, for my eye caught a glint of the white sunshine as it was reflected off some bright surface, and with the inspiration of the moment I stepped into the opening at my feet and fell noisily through amid a small avalanche of rubble. Picking myself up, I looked out from the darkness, and saw, as I expected, Weems standing at the brink above nervously fingering the nickel-plated revolver.

"What have you got that blasted thing for?" I sang out.

"Oh, you see--er--there's no knowing what one might meet with down there--er--and it's well to be ready--er--in case----"

"You lying little viper."

"Oh, I a.s.sure you----"

"Thanks, I want none of your a.s.surances. But I'll give you one. If you put a foot below here, I'll cave in your head with this hoe."

Then he began to whine; and then, as I was stubborn, he swore to shoot me as I came out, which I believed him quite capable of doing; and so matters were again at a deadlock.

"Very well," said I at last. "As I won't trust you an inch beyond my sight, heave that revolver down first, and then I won't touch you. If you stick to it, I know you'll try to make cold meat of me in the hopes I shan't be found down here."

"But you might shoot me, Mr. Cospatric--by accident, of course."

"Make your dirty little soul comfortable on that score. If I wanted to be quit of you, I've got ten fingers quite capable of squeezing the life out of your miserable carca.s.s."

"Still, I think I'll unload it first, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead," said I, "if it amuses you." And out came the cartridges one by one, and then the weapon was tossed down to me. One hand grip on the barrel and another on the stock, a good strong pressure of the wrists together, and that gaudy little weapon was effectually spiked.

"I may come in safety now?" asked Weems, after watching this operation with a groan.

"You won't be touched by me if you behave yourself, although you do deserve half-killing. But mind, if I catch you playing any more pranks, I shall just do as I said--strangle you. See those fingers? They're lengthy, and they're ve-ry strong. _Sabe?_"

Down he came, heralded by a brown tricklet of soil and a few stones. He knelt at the edge of the opening for a moment, and I saw his white face peering down with "funk" writ big all over it. But he soon mastered his scruples, and dropped through on to the flooring beside me, though a nervous upward lifting of one elbow showed that he wouldn't have been surprised at getting a blow. However, I didn't meddle with him, but only bade him curtly enough light that candle.

The sulphur match spluttered and stank, and I'm blessed if his fingers didn't tremble so much when it came to lighting the wick that he dropped the burning splinter altogether. I grabbed the things impatiently enough out of his hands, got a light, and led the way.

The walls beside us sloped in towards the top, where they were bridged by flat slabs some foot or eighteen inches above my head. The pa.s.sage had been built before men knew of the arch. Under foot the ground was hard and dry, and as I should guess, we pa.s.sed over some dozen yards of it before we came into the chamber. That was built in much the same way, with the courses overlapping, and the top crowned with a great flat flag instead of a keystone. But with the architecture of the Talayot we bothered our heads little then, and indeed our solitary candle showed it up but poorly. Right opposite the entrance a strip of the wall had been plastered, and at that the schoolmaster and I sprang with a simultaneous rush.

There was some writing on it!

Steadying the flame in the hollow of my hand, I held it near and withdrew the guard.

"Good G.o.d," shrieked Weems, "what's that!"

The one word I saw was--_Hereingefallen_, scrawled in white letters, and on the ground beneath was a piece of billiard chalk. There was nothing on the plastered surface beside, except the scratchings of a knife-blade. Some one had been there, read the Recipe, and then obliterated every letter.

In a flash these things occurred to me, and I turned to see my companion collapse on to the ground like an empty sack. It required an effort to avoid following his example. The shock was a cruel one.

The thing had been there. The old diary had lied in no single item. And here the treasure had been s.n.a.t.c.hed away from us when it was almost within our grasp. And--then came the most strange conclusion of all--by some one who knew we were to follow.

Haigh was out of the question. He knew no German. It was no elaborate joke of his. But who could it be? I sat down on the earthen floor with my head between my fists trying to think it out. _Hereingefallen!_ Yes, "sold" indeed. But who, who, who had done it?

CHAPTER XI.

THE RED DELF AMPHORA.