Chapter 11

‘Chair says brother Laurie shuts his trap an’ gets the ale. Meetin’ has a mort o’ thinking t’ do.’

‘Aye! A right settler for them as don’t deserve it!’ spluttered Jeb. ‘Why, if we’d have-’

‘For Chrissakes!’ roared Stirk. ‘Put a reef in y’r jawin’ tackle! ’Less anyone has somethin’ t’ offer, keep y’r gob shut!’

It wasn’t meant to be like that, and the frustration was keenly felt by all of them. To know a fabulous treasure lay almost within arm’s reach was too much to bear.

‘We throws out a grapnel an’ drags it up?’ McFadden offered.

‘Don’t be a ninny, Laddie! They’re not in the chest any more – that’s how y’r conger got one. They’s scattered about over the bottom o’ the sea.’

Jeb sullenly interjected. ‘Y’ told us once how in the Caribbee there’s natives as dive f ’r coins you throw in the sea. What’s wrong wi’ us-’

‘’Cos we ain’t divers! Born to it, they is, like fish. And in them seas it’s as clear as glass an’ they can see what they’re a-doing.’

The shareholders of Dunlochry Treasure Company slumped back.

Laurie came back with the ale. ‘Has ye done wi’ your havering?’

Too depressed for words, Stirk only growled at the lad.

‘Then why don’t ye ask Mr Paine? He’s a knowin’ gent, won’t mind helpin’ us out.’

‘We can’t. ’Twould mean a-tellin’ him what we’re doin’, an’ he’s down on it.’ But as he spoke Stirk realised that Kydd wouldn’t turn them in: the worst that could happen would be a refusal to help.

‘He’s at the hall, suppin’ whisky while the young lasses dance,’ confided Laurie.

‘Go an’ ask him t’ step this way, it’s important. Mind ye say it politely, like.’

Kydd soon arrived, a look of concern on his features. ‘Laurie said you’d a serious problem, Toby. I hope I can help.’

Stirk cleared his throat. The others crowded forward, silent and watchful. ‘It’s like this’n, Tom.’ He swallowed and avoided his gaze. ‘When I asks ye for a steer wi’ the coin, I didn’t tell it all, an’ it’s gettin’ to me as I wasn’t square with ye.’

‘Oh?’ Kydd said carefully, drawing up a chair.

‘Well, ye’re right an’ all, we’ve found treasure.’

‘Ah! And you want to know where to hand it in.’

‘Not as we should say, Mr K-, that is, Mr Paine. See, we’ve found it but can’t get at it an’ was hopin’ ye’d see y’r way free to givin’ us some advice.’

Kydd frowned. ‘Let’s be clear on this, Toby. You say-’

‘Tom, mate. We found a wreck right ’nough, Spanish Armada an’ all. Nobody knows of it. Ye can’t get at it from the shore-side, so everything’s still there. So we gets together a little venture an’ goes out to dig it up. Trouble is …’

He tailed off at Kydd’s look. ‘Toby. You’re asking me to compound a felony by assisting you to-’

‘No, no, mate! Whatever we does, that’s our own business. All we’re askin’ is a course t’ steer. Nothin’ to clap t’ your tally a-tall!’

‘Oh?’

‘Well, could be there’s not one piddlin’ syebuck there, but we has a notion t’ try, is all.’

‘Go on.’ The liberal measures of highland whisky he’d enjoyed at the hall were doing nothing for his concentration but he heard Stirk out. The least he could do was to give his opinion to an old shipmate.