Jethou; or, Crusoe Life in the Channel IslesSuffling, Ernest R. (Ernest Richard)
General
Jethou; or, Crusoe Life in the Channel Isles
Suffling, Ernest R. (Ernest Richard)
Channel Islands; Jethou
Hurrah! with metres instead of yards the distances tallied within a few
inches, so that near the centre of the garden we had a number of pegs
stuck in the mould all round a currant bush, of perhaps three or four
years' growth, which had thus accidentally marked the spot that was
indicated by a skull on the paper.
Now came Alec's turn for excitement, and he was _intensely_ excited. I
must say I liked my form of excitement best, for Monday seemed
completely off his head, and was gesticulating like a monkey dancing a
hornpipe on hot bricks; he was fairly beside himself. I took mine in a
calmer manner, that is, although I was brimful and even bubbling over
with it, I did not rave, but kept as cool as possible, and I remember at
the time thinking it was due to our different nationalities, the
excitable and phlegmatic temperaments predominating in the two
individuals and giving character. Probably a stranger looking on would
have thought us either a couple of fools or a pair of lunatics.
Off came our jackets, and our sleeves were quickly rolled above our
elbows, displaying arms as brown as those of gypsies.
Monday took the pick and I the shovel, and to work we went.
I must not forget to mention that I had told Alec that whatever we found
I should consider it my duty to give up to M. Oudin as the real
proprietor of the island, and to this he readily assented, mentioning
that he at all events could say nothing to my plans, as he was simply my
assistant, my Monday.
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CHAPTER XVIII.
DIGGING FOR THE TREASURE--A NOONDAY REST--THE GHASTLY TENANT OF THE
TREASURE HOUSE--WE FIND THE TREASURE--AN ACCOUNT OF WHAT WE
DISCOVERED.
By noon we had a well-like hole about seven feet deep, and found as we
dug that the soil became drier the lower we went, which was unusual, as
generally it gets more moist, so that digging at length becomes very
arduous.
Although not more than seven feet deep, the earth we had piled all round
made the hole look at least ten feet to the bottom, and it had now
become very difficult to throw the earth over the edge of the opening
above.
It was a hot August day, and the sun poured its almost vertical rays
upon us, so that the perspiration broke out at every pore, and bathed us
in moisture; but still we toiled on, till, as I say, noon arrived,
without our finding any token of treasure trove.
Then said Monday, "What say you now of your quest, Crusoe? Don't you
think it's all moonshine, or rather (wiping the perspiration from his
brow) sunshine and shadow?"
I was fain to confess that it did seem like it, but asked,
"Will you help me dig to a depth of ten feet from the surface? and if
nothing gives indication of what we are in search, I will then give up."
"What, dig down ten feet, and be buried alive in this crumbling grave?
Just look at it, it is ready even now to tumble its sides in upon us."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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