The Battery and the Boiler by Robert Michael Ballantyne (best books for 7th graders .txt) 📕

miscellaneous merchandise stood several large and massive chests of ancient material and antique form. Taking a bunch of small keys from a nail on the wall, the old woman proceeded to open these and exhibit their contents with much of the interest and simple delight exhibited by a child in displaying her treasures to new companions.

Handing the silver lamp to Robin, who with his comrades looked on in silent surprise, she opened the first chest. It was loaded to the lid with jewellery of all kinds, which sparkled in the light with dazzling brilliancy, for even to the inexperienced eyes of the observers, many of the gems were obviously of the finest quality, and almost priceless in value. There was no order in the arrangement of these--bracelets, ear-rings, watches, etcetera, of European manufacture lying side by side with the costly golden wreaths and tiaras of India, and the more massive and gorgeous brooches, nose-rings, neck-rings, and anklets peculiar to semi-barbaric lands.

The next chest was filled with gold, silver, and bronze drinking-cups and goblets, lamps, vases, and urns, that had been gathered from the ships of many countries. Then there were chests which contained little barrels full of gold and silver coin of every realm, from the huge golden doubloon of Spain to the little silver groschen of Germany. Besides all this varied wealth, there were piles of arms of all nations--richly chased scimitars of Eastern manufacture, the clumsy cutlasses of England, long silver-handled pistols of Oriental form, bluff little "bull-dog" revolvers, cavalry sabres, breech-loading rifles, flint-lock muskets, shields, spears, bows and arrows--in short, a miscellaneous armoury much too extensive to be described.

It was interesting to observe the monkey-like countenance of old Meerta as she watched the effect produced on her visitors, her little black eyes sparkling in the lamp-light more brightly than the finest gems there; and not less interesting was it to note the half-amused, more than half-amazed, and partially imbecile gaze of the still silent visitors. Little Letta enjoyed their looks quite as much as Meerta.

"Haven't we got lots of pretty things here?" she said, looking up into Robin's face.

"Yes, little one,--wonderful!"

Robin revived sufficiently to make this reply and to glance at Sam, Slagg, and Stumps, who returned the glance. Then he relapsed.

Snatching the lamp from his hand, old Meerta now led the party to a remote corner of the cave, where a number of large casks were ranged at one end, and covered with a sheet of leather.

"Ha! ha!" laughed their wild guide, in a sort of screech, "here be de grandest jools, de finest dimunds of all, what buys all de rest!"

She lifted a corner of the skin, removed the loose head of a cask, and holding the lamp close over the opening, bade them look in. They did so, and the effect was powerful as well as instantaneous, for there, only a few inches below the flaring light, lay an open barrel of gunpowder!

The senses of Sam Shipton returned like a flash of lightning--interest, surprise, admiration vanished like smoke, as he uttered a shout, and, with one hand seizing the wrist of the withered arm that held the lamp, with the other he hastily drew the leathern cover over the exposed powder and held it down.

"You old curmudgeon!" he cried; "here, Robin, take the lamp from her, and away with it into the outer cave."

Our hero promptly obeyed, while the other two, under an instinct of self-preservation, had already fled in the same direction, followed by a shrill and half-fiendish laugh from the old woman.

"Well, I never had such a narrow escape," said Sam, as he issued from the cave, still holding Meerta firmly, though not roughly, by the wrist.

"Why, there's enough powder there, I do believe," said Jim Slagg, "to split the whole island in two."

"There, it's all safe now," said Sam, as he locked the heavy door and thrust the key in his pocket; "and I will take care of your treasures for you in future, old lady."

"Wass you frighted?" asked the old woman with a low laugh, in which even Letta joined.

"Frighted, you reckless old thing," replied Sam, seizing a tankard of water and draining it, "of course I was; if a spark had gone down into that cask, you would have been considerably frighted too."

"I'm not so sure of that," said Stumps; "she wouldn't have had time to get a fright."

"O no!" said Meerta; "I's niver frighted. Many time me stan' by dat keg, t'inkin', t'inkin', t'inkin' if me stuff de light in it, and blow de pyrits vid all dere tings to 'warsl smash; but no--me tinks dat some of dem wasn't all so bad as each oder."

This thought seemed to have the effect of quieting the roused spirit of the poor old woman, for thereafter a softened expression overspread her wrinkled face as she went silently about clearing away the debris of the recent feast.


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.


THE PIRATE'S ISLAND--CONTINUED.

Next morning Sam Shipton awoke from a sound and dreamless slumber. Raising himself on the soft ottoman, or Eastern couch, on which he had spent the night, he looked round in a state of sleepy wonder, unable at first to remember where he was. Gradually he recalled the circumstances and events of the preceding day.

The forms of his companions lay on couches similar to his own in attitudes of repose, and the seaman still slept profoundly in the position in which he had been laid down when brought in.

Through the mouth of the cavern Sam could see the little garden, glowing like an emerald in the beams of the rising sun, and amongst the bushes he observed the old couple stooping quietly over their labour of gathering weeds. The warm air, the bright sunshine, and the soft cries of distant sea-birds, induced Sam to slip into such of his garments as he had put off, and go out quietly without rousing his companions.

In a few minutes he stood on the summit of the islet and saw the wide ocean surrounding him, like a vast sparkling plain, its myriad wavelets reflecting now the dazzling sun, now the azure vault, the commingling yellow and blue of which resulted in a lovely transparent green, save where a few puffs of wind swept over the great expanse and streaked it with lines of darkest blue.

"Truly," murmured Sam, as he gazed in admiration at the glorious expanse of sea and sky, "Robin is right when he says that we are not half sufficiently impressed with the goodness of the Almighty in placing us in the midst of such a splendid world, with capacity to appreciate and enjoy it to the full. I begin to fear that I am a more ungrateful fellow than I've been used to think."

For some time he continued to gaze in silence as if that thought were working.

From his elevated position he could now see that the islet was not quite so barren as at first he had been led to suppose. Several little valleys and cup-like hollows lay nestling among the otherwise barren hills, like lovely gems in a rough setting. Those, he now perceived, must have been invisible from the sea, and the rugged, almost perpendicular, cliffs in their neighbourhood had apparently prevented men from landing and discovering their existence. One of the valleys, in particular, was not only larger than the others, but exceptionally rich in vegetation, besides having a miniature lake, like a diamond, in its bosom.

Descending the hill and returning to the cave, Sam found his comrades still asleep. Letta was assisting old Meerta in the preparation of a substantial breakfast that would not have done discredit to a first-class hotel.

"Oh, I'm so glad you've come!" said Letta, running up, to him and giving him both hands to shake, and a ready little mouth to kiss, "for I didn't like to awaken your friends, and the sailor one looks so still that I fear he may be dying. I saw one of the naughty men die here, and he looked just like that."

Somewhat alarmed by this, Sam went at once to the sailor and looked earnestly at him.

"No fear, Letta," he said, "the poor fellow is not dying; he is only in a very profound sleep, having been much exhausted and nearly killed yesterday. Hallo, Robin! awake at last?"

Robin, who had been roused by the voices, rubbed his eyes, yawned vociferously, and looked vacantly round.

"Well, now, that's most extraordinary; it isn't a dream after all!"

"It's an uncommon pleasant dream, if it is one," remarked Jim Slagg, with a grave stare at Robin, as he sat up on his couch. "I never in all my born days dreamt such a sweet smell of coffee and fried sausages. Why, the old 'ooman's a-bringin' of 'em in, I do declare. Pinch me, Stumps, to see if I'm awake!"

As Stumps was still asleep, Slagg himself resorted to the method referred to, and roused his comrade. In a few minutes they were all seated at breakfast with the exception of the sailor, whom it was thought best to leave to his repose until nature should whisper in his ear.

"Well now," said Slagg, pausing to rest for a few seconds, "if we _had_ a submarine cable 'tween this and England, and we was to give 'em an account of all we've seen an' bin doin', they'd never believe it."

"Cer'nly not. They'd say it wos all a passel o' lies," remarked Stumps; "but I say, Mr Sam--"

"Come now, Stumps, don't `Mister' me any more."

"Well, I won't do it any more, though 'tain't easy to change one's 'abits. But how is it, sir, that that there electricity works? That's what I wants to know. Does the words run along the cable,--or 'ow?"

"Of course they do, Stumpy," interrupted Slagg, "they run along the cable like a lot o' little tightrope dancers, an' when they come to the end o't they jumps off an' ranges 'temselves in a row. Sometimes, in coorse, they spells wrong, like bad schoolboys, and then they've to be walloped an' set right."

"Hold your noise, Slagg, an' let your betters speak," returned Stumps.

"Well, if they don't exactly do that," said Sam Shipton, "there are people who think they can do things even more difficult. I remember once, when I was clerk at a country railroad station and had to work the telegraph, an old woman came into the ticket office in a state of wild despair. She was about the size and shape of Meerta there, but with about an inch and a half more nose, and two or three ounces less brain.

"`What's wrong, madam?' I asked, feeling quite sorry for the poor old thing.

"`Oh! sir,' said she, clasping her hands, `I've bin an' left my passel,--a brown paper one it was,--on the seat at the last station, an' there was a babby's muffler in it--the sweetest thing as ever was--an' f-fi' pun t-ten, on'y one sh-shillin' was b-bad--boo-hoo!'

"She broke down entirely at this point, so, said I, `Madam, make your mind quite easy, sit down, and I'll telegraph at once,' so I telegraphed, and got a reply back immediately that the parcel had been found all right, and would be sent on as soon as possible. I told this to the old lady, who seemed quite pleased,