The Pirate Story Megapack. R.M. Ballantyne

beam! the beam!” he almost screamed. “It’s broke. O, what shall we do!”

      Pat looked up; and there, clearly defined against the sky, he saw the beam around which the rope was fastened, no longer lying straight across the mouth of the pit, but sagging down in the middle at a sharp angle. It had been rotten in the middle. It had cracked at that last jerk occasioned by his fall from his foothold; and it now hung broken midway, still clinging together by a few fibres, but suspended there above them, like the sword of Damocles, as if by a single hair, and threatening every instant to fall and crush them.

      The rope and the beam had both been rotten, and the jerk which had been given when Pat lost his foothold had cracked the one and broken the other. There, about thirty feet above them, hung the end of the rope where it had parted. The rest of it was still in Pat’s hands.

      CHAPTER XI.

      The other boys rose that morning at the usual hour, and descended leisurely to breakfast. The absence of Bart and Pat was noticed and commented on. It was supposed, however, that they had gone off somewhere to get up an appetite for breakfast, and that they would be along before the meal was over. Time passed, and the breakfast was ended; but still no signs appeared of the absentees. It was now nearly time to start, and they all strolled down to the wharf where the Antelope was, thinking that the two boys might possibly be there. On reaching the place they looked around, but saw no signs of them. Captain Corbet had not seen them, nor had Solomon. Everything was ready, and it was only a few minutes of the time.

      “It’s queer where those fellows can have gone to,” said Bruce.

      “They’ve gone on a walk, of course,” said Arthur; “and I dare say they’ve gone farther than they intended.”

      “O, they’ll be along soon,” said Phil; and won’t they be half starved? Methinks!”

      “It’s a strange thing,” said Tom, “that they should have slipped off in this way. No one knows anything about them. No one at the inn saw them go out. They must have got up precious early.”

      “Well, they’re both rather early risers,” said Arthur; “and they may have gone off fishing.”

      “I dare say they have,” said Bruce. “Bart is crazy about fishing, and if he has got one solitary bite, he’ll give up the expedition to Aspotogon.”

      “And Pat’s as bad, every bit,” said Phil. “Depend upon it, those two have gone out to catch fish for breakfast, and won’t be back till somewhere about evening.”

      “For my part,” said Tom, “I shouldn’t wonder if they’ve both backed out deliberately.”

      “Backed out?”

      “Yes. I don’t believe they cared about going to Aspotogon.”

      “Pooh! nonsense! What makes you think that?”

      “Why, last evening I noticed that they didn’t say a single word. Both of those fellows were as mum as mice, and all the rest of us were in full cry about the expedition. Depend upon it, they didn’t want to go, and have backed out. They didn’t want to say anything about it, for fear we’d tease them to come, but quietly dropped off, leaving us to go without them. O, that’s the way, beyond a doubt.”

      “Now that you mention it, Tom,” said Phil, “I do remember that they didn’t say anything last night, neither of them.”

      “Neither did they,” said Arthur.

      “Fact,” said Bruce; “it looks very much as if they had talked the matter over, and concluded to back out in this quiet way; and I don’t know but what they have concocted some scheme of their own.”

      “O, some fishing scheme, of course. Bart was crazy about it, you know, and he’s persuaded Pat to go with him.”

      “Well, in that case we needn’t wait.”

      “O, we may as well hang on till ten—in case they should turn up after all.”

      Such was the opinion, then, to which the other boys came, about the disappearance of Bart and Pat. It was a perfectly natural one under the circumstances. Bart and Pat were distinguished above all things for their fondness for fishing; their silence during the conversation of the preceding evening really made it seem as though they had no desire to go to Aspotogon, but had some plan of their own. This plan seemed to the boys to be undoubtedly a fishing expedition. There was, therefore, not the slightest feeling of uneasiness in the mind of any of them, nor did even Captain Corbet, who had listened to the conversation, imagine that there was any cause for alarm. To have imagined danger to them in such a place as this, on dry ground, in a civilized country, was out of the question. Notwithstanding this conviction, they thought it possible, however, that the two might yet return in time, and therefore they decided to wait for them till ten.

      The conversation about Bart and Pat was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of the landlord, who brought them another disappointment. He told them that important business had most unexpectedly required him to go up the country for twenty miles or so, and that he should not be able to accompany them. He expressed the greatest possible regret, and the boys expressed still more. They at once offered to postpone their expedition till the following day; but the landlord was not certain whether he should be back by that time or not, and advised them to go without him. He said a friend of his would go, who knew the whole country, and could tell them all that they wanted to know about it.

      Great was the disappointment of the boys at this unexpected occurrence. They had particularly wished to have the landlord’s company, for reasons already stated. He was so genial, so communicative, and so destitute of inquisitiveness, that he seemed the very man whom they might be able to pump to their hearts’ content, without making their purpose apparent to him. One great charm of the expedition lay in their belief that Aspotogon and Deep Cove had been the haunts of the buccaneers, and that the landlord would show them the traditionary place where the treasure had been deposited. They did not think that another man could supply his place; and when, shortly after, the landlord brought his friend along, they were sure of it. For the friend, whose name the landlord gave as Turnbull, was a heavy, dull-looking man, and the last in the world whom they would have chosen in the landlord’s place. However, there was no help for it. It was useless to postpone it, and, consequently, at ten o’clock the Antelope started on her voyage.

      On emerging from the little harbor of Chester into the bay, the scene that presented itself was beautiful in the extreme. Much of it was familiar to their eyes, owing to their previous cruise about the bay on the first day of their arrival; but they now saw it under a somewhat different aspect. On one side arose an island, bare of trees, and covered with grass, of no great size, but conspicuous from its position. In its neighborhood were other islands, some all wooded from the shore to the summit, others showing green meadows peeping forth from encircling foliage. Before them spread the shores of Tancook, all green with verdure, dotted with white houses, and showing, here and there, the darker hue of forest trees, amid the green, grassy meadows. Beyond this, and far out to sea, was Ironbound, which, from this distance, looked dark and repellent. It was more wooded than the other islands, and did not seem popular as a dwelling-place. Naturally so, for at that distance out, it was exposed to the storms and the fogs of the ocean, while those islands within the bay were in the possession of a far more genial soil and climate. On the left, the coast-line ran on beyond a neighboring point, till it terminated in a distant headland; and here, on that line of coast, several miles this side of the headland, the land arose to a wooded eminence, which was no other than the very place which they were seeking—Aspotogon.

      The boys were disappointed, for they had expected something much higher. It did not seem to them to be more than a very ordinary hill, nor did it rise very high above the level of the surrounding land. Still, they were willing to be pleased, and therefore tried to think that it might really be much higher than it seemed.

      The line of coast ran on, showing cleared fields along the shore, which, farther back, were succeeded by wooded slopes. In this line of shore there did not appear the slightest opening, nor could they imagine how it was possible for a schooner to reach the base of Aspotogon.