When the old vessel was dismantled and laid up, we last remaining three took passage on the Royal Mail Steamer Dee, which, being an extra-cargo boat, was bound on a sort of roving commission round the West Indies, in search of bags of cacao to complete her cargo. This was a most enjoyable voyage, thanks to the officers of the Dee. Pursell and myself were the only passengers. We visited several of the Windward Islands—old friends of mine, most of them—before sailing across the Atlantic to Havre, and thence to London Docks.
Thus ended our treasure-hunting expedition—a vain search; but, as I have already said, my companions bore their disappointment well. It was amusing to hear them argue, like the grape-loving fox in the fable, but in a more good-natured way, that we were far better off without the treasure. I remember one favourite argument to this effect. It had been decided that, if the treasure was found, we should not return to England in the yacht, but insure our wealth and go home in the biggest mail steamer we could find. That was our great difficulty—how to find a suitable vessel. As we were now, we cared not much what sort of a craft we sailed in; but, once wealthy, how terribly valuable would our lives become! In anticipation even of it we became nervous. Would any vessel be large and safe enough for us then that we were millionaires? Well, indeed, was it for us that we had not found the pirates’ gold; for we seemed happy enough as we were, and if possessed of this hoard our lives would of a certainty have become a burden to us. We should be too precious to be comfortable. We should degenerate into miserable, fearsome hypochondriacs, careful of our means of transit, dreadfully anxious about what we ate or drank, miserably cautious about everything, “Better far, no doubt,” exclaimed these cheerful philosophers, “to remain the careless, happy paupers that we are.”
“Do you still believe in the existence of the treasure?” is a question that has been often put to me since my return. Knowing all I do, I have very little doubt that the story of the Russian Finn is substantially true—that the treasures of Lima were hidden on Trinidad; but whether they have been taken away, or whether they are still there and we failed to find them because we were not in possession of one link in the directions, I am unable to say.
Colophon
The Cruise of the Alerte
was published in 1890 by
E. F. Knight.
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