Arthur Morrison - British Mystery Classics - Arthur Morrison Edition (Illustrated)

Merrick indicated by signs how the cases had been found piled on the floor. One of the sides of the room of thin steel was torn and thrust in the length of its whole upper half, and when they backed out of the room and passed the open door they stood in the great breach made by the bow of the strange coasting vessel. Steel, iron, wood, and everything stood in rents and splinters, and through the great gap they looked out into the immeasurable ocean. Hewitt put up his hand and felt the edge of the bullion-room partition where it had been torn. It was just such a tear as might have been made in cardboard.

They regained the upper deck, and Hewitt, placing his helmet against his companion’s, told him that he meant to have a short walk on the ocean bed. He took to the ladder again, where it lay over the side, and Merrick followed him.

The bottom was of that tough, slimy sort of clay-rock that is found in many places about our coasts, and was dotted here and there with lumps of harder rock and clumps of curious weed. The two divers turned at the bottom of the ladder, walked a few steps, and looked up at the great hole in the Nicobar’s side. Seen from here it was a fearful chasm, laying open hold, orlop, and lower deck.

Hewitt turned away, and began walking about. Once or twice he stood and looked thoughtfully at the ground he stood on, which was fairly flat. He turned over with his foot a whitish, clean-looking stone about as large as a loaf. Then he wandered on slowly, once or twice stopping to examine the rock beneath him, and presently stooped to look at another stone nearly as large as the other, weedy on one side only, standing on the edge of a cavity in the claystone. He pushed the stone into the hole, which it filled, and then he stood up.

Merrick put his helmet against Hewitt’s, and shouted —

“Satisfied now? Seen enough of the bottom?”

“In a moment! “Hewitt shouted back; and he straightway began striding out in the direction of the ship. Arrived at the bows, he turned back to the point he started from, striding off again from there to the white stone he had kicked over, and from there to the vessel’s side again. Merrick watched him in intense amazement, and hurried, as well as he might, after the light of Hewitt’s lamp. Arrived for the second time at the bows of the ship, Hewitt turned and made his way along the side to the ladder, and forthwith ascended, followed by Merrick. There was no halt at the deck this time, and the two made there way up and up into the lighter water above, and so to the world of air.

On the tug, as the men were unscrewing them from there waterproof prisons, Merrick asked Hewitt —

“Will you try the ‘ lotion ‘ now?”

“No,” Hewitt replied, “I won’t go quite so far as that. But I will have a little whisky, if you’ve any in the cabin. And give me a pencil and a piece of paper.”

These things were brought, and on the paper Martin Hewitt immediately wrote a few figures and kept it in his hand.

“I might easily forget those figures,” he observed.

Merrick wondered, but said nothing.

Once more comfortably in the cabin, and clad in his usual garments, Hewitt asked if Merrick could produce a chart of the parts thereabout.

“Here you are,” was the reply, “coast and all. Big enough, isn’t it? I’ve already marked the position of the wreck on it in pencil. She lies pointing north by east as nearly exact as anything.”

“As you’ve begun it,” said Hewitt, “I shall take the liberty of making a few more pencil marks on this.” And with that he spread out the crumpled note of figures, and began much ciphering and measuring. Presently he marked certain points on a spare piece of paper, and drew through them two lines forming an angle. This angle he transferred to the chart, and, placing a ruler over one leg of the angle, lengthened it out till it met the coast-line.

“There we are,” he said musingly. “And the nearest village to that is Lostella — indeed, the only coast village in that neighbourhood.” He rose. “Bring me the sharpest-eyed person on board,” he said; “that is, if he were here all day yesterday.”

“But what’s up? What’s all this mathematical business over? Going to find that bullion by rule of three?”

Hewitt laughed. “Yes, perhaps,” he said, “but Where’s your sharp look-out? I want somebody who can tell me everything that was visible from the deck of this tug all day yesterday.”

“Well, really I believe the very sharpest chap is the boy. He’s most annoyingly observant sometimes. I’ll send for him.”

He came — a bright, snub-nosed, impudent-looking young ruffian.

“See here, my boy,” said Merrick, “polish up your wits and tell this gentleman what he asks.”

“Yesterday,” said Hewitt, “no doubt you saw various pieces of wreckage floating about?”

“Yessir.”

“What were they?”

“Hatch-gratings mostly — nothin’ much else. There’s some knockin’ about now.”

“I saw them. Now, remember. Did you set a hatch-grating floating yesterday that was different from the others? A painted one, for instance — those out there now are not painted, you know.”

“Yessir, I see a little white ’un painted, bobbin’ about away beyond the foremast of the Nicobar.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“Certain sure, sir — it was the only painted thing floatin’. And to-day it’s washed away somewheres.”

“So I noticed. You’re a smart lad. Here’s a shilling for you — keep your eyes open and perhaps you’ll find a good many more shillings before you’re an old man. That’s all.”

The boy disappeared, and Hewitt turned to Merrick and said, “I think you may as well send that wire you spoke of. If I get the commission I think I may recover that bullion. It may take some little time, or, on the other hand, it may not. If you’ll write the telegram at once, I’ll go in the same boat as the messenger. I’m going to take a walk down to Lostella now — it’s only two or three miles along the coast, but it will soon be getting dark.”

“But what sort of a clue have you got? I didn’t ”

“Never mind,” replied Hewitt, with a chuckle. “Officially, you know, I’ve no right to a clue just yet — I’m not commissioned. When I am I’ll tell you everything.”

Hewitt was scarcely ashore when he was seized by the excited Brasyer. “Here you are,” he said. “I was coming aboard the tug again. I’ve got more news. You remember I said I was going out with that railway clerk this afternoon, and meant pumping him? Well, I’ve done it and rushed away — don’t know what he’ll think’s up. As we were going along we saw Norton, the steward, on the other side of the way, and the clerk recognised him as one of the men who brought the cases to be sent off; the other was the skipper, I’ve no doubt, from his description. I played him artfully, you know, and then he let out that both the cases were addressed to Mackrie at his address in London! He looked up the entry, he said, after I left when I first questioned him, feeling curious. That’s about enough, I think, eh? I’m off to London now — I believe Mackrie’s going to-night. I’ll have him! Keep it dark! “And the zealous second officer

dashed off without waiting for a reply. Hewitt looked after him with an amused smile, and turned off towards Lostella.

It was about eleven the next morning when Merrick received the following note, brought by a boatman:—

“Dear Merrick, — Am I commissioned? If not, don’t trouble, but if I am, be just outside Lostella, at the turning before you come to the Smack Inn, at two o’clock. Bring with you a light cart, a policeman — or two perhaps will be better — and a man with a spade. There will probably be a little cabbage-digging. Are you fond of the sport? — Yours, Martin Hewitt.