 Section 11 of Library of World's Best Mystery and Detective Stories, Volume 1. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Library of the World's Best Mystery and Detective Stories, Volume 1 by Julian Hawthorne, Editor. Section 11, The Goldbug, Part 2 by Edgar Allan Poe. Here are my friends about whose madness I now saw, or fancy that I saw, certain indications of method, removed the peg which marked a spot where the beetle fell, to a spot about 3 inches to the westward of its former position. Taking now the tape measure from the nearest point of the trunk to the peg, as before ends continuing the extension in a straight line to the distance of 50 feet, a spot was indicated, removed by several yards from the point at which we had been digging. Around the new position of circle, somewhat larger than in the former instance, was now described, and we again set to work with a spade. I was dreadfully weary, but scarcely understanding what had occasioned the change in my thoughts, I felt no longer any great aversion from the labour imposed. I had become unaccountably interested, nay, even excited. Perhaps there was something, amid all the extravagant demeanor of the grand, some air of forethoughts, or of deliberation, which impressed me. I dug eagerly, and now and then caught myself actually looking, with something that very much resembled expectation, for the fancy treasure, the vision of which had demented my unfortunate companion. At a period when such vagaries of thought most fully possessed me, and when we had been at work perhaps an hour and a half, we were again interrupted by the violent howlings of the dog. His uneasiness, in the first instance, had been evidently but the result of playfulness or caprice, but he now assumed a bitter and serious tone. Upon Jupiter's again attempting to muzzle him, he made furious resistance, and, leaping into the hole, tore up the mould frantically with his claws. In a few seconds he had uncovered a mass of human bones, forming two complete skeletons, intermingled with several buttons of metal, and what appeared to be the dust of decayed woollen. One or two strokes of a spade upturned the blade of a large Spanish knife, and as we dug farther, three or four loose pieces of gold and silver coin came to light. At sight of these the joy of Jupiter could scarcely be restrained, but the countenance of his master wore an air of extreme disappointment. He urged us, however, to continue our exertions, and the words were hardly uttered when I stumbled and fell forward, having caught the tail of my boot in a large ring of iron that lay half-buried in the loose earth. We now worked in earnest, and never did I pass ten minutes of more intense excitement. During this interval we had fairly unearthed an oblong chest of wood, which, from its perfect preservation and wonderful hardness, had plainly been subjected to some mineralizing process, perhaps that of the bichloride of Mercury. This box was three feet and a half long, three feet broad, and two and a half feet deep. It was firmly secured by bands of wrought iron, riveted, and forming a kind of open trellis work over the hole. On each side of the chest, near the top, were three rings of iron, six in all, by means of which a firm hold could be obtained by six persons. Our utmost united endeavors served only to disturb the coffer very slightly in its bed. We at once saw the impossibility of removing so great a weight. Luckily the sole fastenings of the lid consisted of two sliding bolts. These we drew back, trembling and panting with anxiety. In an instant a treasure of incalculable value lay gleaming before us. The rays of the lantern fell within the pit, there flashed upward a glow and a glare, from a confused heap of gold and of jewels that absolutely dazzled our eyes. I shall not pretend to describe the feelings with which I gazed. Amazement was, of course, predominant. LeGrand appeared exhausted with excitement and spoke very few words. Jupiter's countenance wore, for some minutes, as deadly a pallor as it is possible, in the nature of things, for any niggers visage to assume. He seemed stupefied, thunder-stricken. Presently he fell upon his knees in the pit, and, burying his naked arms up to the elbows and golds, let them there remain, as if enjoying the luxury of a bath. At length, with a deep sigh, he exclaimed, as if in a siliqui, and this all come up to gold-bug. Deputted gold-bug, de poor little gold-bug, would I boost in that savage kind of style? Ain't you shamed of yourself, nigger? Answer me that. It became necessary at last that I should arouse both master and valet to the expediency of removing the treasure. It was growing late, and it behooved us to make exertion, that we might get everything housed before daylight. It was difficult to say what should be done, and much time was spent in deliberation, so confused were the ideas of all. We, finally, lighted the box by removing two-thirds of its contents, when we were enabled, with some trouble, to raise it from its hole. The articles taken out were deposited among the brambles, and the dog left to guard them, with strict orders from Jupiter, neither upon any pretense, to stir from the spot, nor to open his mouth until our return. We then hurriedly made for home with the chest, reaching the hut in safety, but after excessive toil, as one o'clock in the morning. Warned out as we were, it was not in human nature to do more immediately. We rested until two, and had supper. Starting for the hills immediately afterwards, armed with three stout sacks, which, by good luck, were upon the premises. A little before four, we arrived at the pit, divided the remainder of the booty, as equally as might be among us, and, leaving the holes unfilled, again set out for the hut, at which, for the second time, we deposited our golden burdens, just as the first faint streaks of the dawn gleamed from over the treetops in the east. We were now thoroughly broken down, but the intense excitement of the time denied us repose. After an unquiet slumber of some three or four hours' duration, we arose, as if by pre-concert, to make examination of our treasure. The chest had been full to the brim, and we spent the whole day, and the greater part of the next night, in a scrutiny of its contents. There had been nothing like order or arrangement. Everything had been heaped in, promiscuously. Having assorted all with care, we found ourselves possessed of even vaster wealth than we had at first supposed. In coin there was rather more than four hundred and fifty thousand dollars, estimating the value of the pieces as accurately as we could by the tables of the period. There was not a particle of silver. All was gold of antique date and of great variety, French, Spanish, and German money, with a few English guineas, and some counters, of which we had never seen specimens before. There were several very large and heavy coins, so warn that we could make nothing of their inscriptions. There was no American money. The value of the jewels we found more difficulty in estimating. There were diamonds, some of them exceedingly large and fine, a hundred and ten in all, and not one of them small. Eighteen rubies of remarkable brilliancy, three hundred and ten emeralds, all very beautiful, and twenty-one sapphires, with an opal. These stones had all been broken from their settings and thrown loose in the chest. The settings themselves, which we picked out from among the other gold, appeared to have been beaten up with hammers, as if to prevent identification. Besides all this, there was a vast quantity of solid gold ornaments, nearly two hundred massive finger and earrings. Rich chains, thirty of these, if I remember. Eighty-three very large and heavy crucifixes, five gold sensors of great value, a prodigious golden punch-bowl ornamented with richly chased vine-leaves and buck-nallion figures, with two sword-handles exquisitely embossed, and many other smaller articles which I cannot recollect. The weight of these valuables exceeded three hundred and fifty pounds, ever depoys. And in this estimate I have not included one hundred and ninety-seven superb gold watches, three of the number being worth each five hundred dollars, if one. Many of them were very old, and as time-keepers, valueless. The works, having suffered, more or less, from corrosion, but all were richly jeweled, and in cases of great worth. We estimated the entire contents of the chest, that night, at a million and a half of dollars, and upon the subsequent disposal of the trinkets and jewels, a few being retained, for our own use. It was found that we had greatly undervalued the treasure. When, at length, we had concluded our examination, and the intense excitements of the time had, in some measure, subsided, the grand, who saw that I was dying with impatience, for a solution of this most extraordinary riddle, entered into a full detail of all the circumstances connected with it. You remember, said he, the night when I handed you the rough sketch I had made of the scarabess. You recollect, also, that I became quite vexed at you for insisting that my drawing resembled a death's head. When you first made this assertion, I thought you were jesting. But afterwards I called to mind the peculiar spots on the back of the insect, and admitted to myself that your remark had some little foundation, in fact. Still the sneer at my graphic powers irritated me, for I am considered a good artist, and therefore when you handed me the scrap of parchment I was about to crumple it up and throw it angrily into the fire. The scrap of paper you mean, said I. No. It had much of the appearance of paper, and at first I supposed it to be such. But when I came to draw upon it, I discovered it had once to be a piece of very thin parchment. It was quite dirty, you remember. Well, as I was in the very act of crumpling it up, my glance fell upon the sketch at which you had been looking. And you may imagine my astonishment when I perceived, in fact, the figure of a death's head just where it seemed to me I had made the drawing of the beetle. For a moment I was too much amazed to think with accuracy. I knew that my design was very different in detail from this, although there was a certain similarity in general outline. Presently I took a candle, and seating myself at the other end of the room proceeded to scrutinize the parchment more closely. Upon turning it over I saw my own sketch upon the reverse, just as I had made it. My first idea now was, mere surprise, at the really remarkable similarity of outline. At the singular coincidence involved in the fact that, unknown to me, there should have been a skull upon the other side of the parchment, immediately beneath my figure of this caribous. And that this skull, not only an outline, but in size, should so closely resemble my drawing. I say the singularity of this coincidence absolutely stupefied me for a time. This is the usual effect of such coincidences. The mind struggles to establish a connection, a sequence of cause and effect, and, being unable to do so, suffers a species of temporary paralysis. But when I recovered from this stupor, there dawned upon me gradually a conviction which startled me even far more than the coincidence. I began distinctly, positively, to remember that there had been no drawing upon the parchment when I made my sketch of the caribous. I became perfectly certain of this, for I recollected turning up first one side and then the other, in search of the cleanest spot. Had the skull been then there, of course I could not have failed to notice it. Here was, indeed, a mystery which I felt it impossible to explain. But, even at that early moment, there seemed to glimmer, faintly, within the most remote and secret chambers of my intellect, a glowworm-like conception of that truth which last night's adventure brought to so magnificent a demonstration. I arose at once, and, putting the parchment securely away, dismissed all for the reflection, until I should be alone. When you had gone, and when Jupiter was fast asleep, I betook myself to a more methodical investigation of the affair. In the first place I considered the manner in which the parchment had come into my possession. The spot where we discovered the scarabous was on the coast of the mainland, about a mile eastward of the island, and but a short distance above High Watermark. Upon my taking hold of it, it gave me a sharp bite, which caused me to let it drop. Jupiter, with his accustomed caution, before seizing the insect, which had flown toward him, looked about him for a leaf, or something of that nature by which to take hold of it. It was at this moment that his eyes, and mine also, fell upon the scrap of parchment which I then supposed to be paper. It was lying half buried in the sand, a corner sticking up. Near the spot where we found it, I observed the remnants of the hull of what appeared to have been a ship's longboat. The wreck seemed to have been there for a very great while, for the resemblance to boat timbers could scarcely be traced. While Jupiter picked up the parchment, wrapped the beetle in it, and gave it to me. Soon afterwards we turned to go home, and on the way met Lieutenant G. I showed him the insect, and he begged me to let him take it to the fort. Upon my consenting he thrust it forthwith into his waistcoat pocket, without the parchment in which it had been wrapped, and which I had continued to hold in my hand during his inspection. Perhaps he dreaded my changing my mind, and thought it best to make sure of the prize at once. You know how enthusiastic he is on all subjects connected with natural history. At the same time, without being conscious of it, I must have deposited the parchment in my own pocket. You remember that when I went to the table, for the purpose of making a sketch of the beetle, I found no paper where it was usually kept. I looked in the drawer, and found none there. I searched my pockets, hoping to find an old letter, when my hand fell upon the parchment. I thus detailed the precise mode in which it came into my possession, for the circumstances impressed me with peculiar force. No doubt you will think me fanciful, but I had already established a kind of connection. I had put together two links of a great chain. There was a boat lying upon a sea-coast, and not far from the boat was a parchment, not a paper, with a skull depicted upon it. You will, of course, ask, where is the connection? I replied that the skull, or the Death's Head, is the well-known emblem of the pirate. The flag of the Death's Head is hoisted in all engagements. I have said that the scrap was parchment, and not paper. Parchment is durable, almost imperishable. Matters of little moments are rarely consigned to parchment, since, for the mere ordinary purposes of drawing or writing, it is not nearly so well adapted as paper. This reflection suggested some meaning, some relevancy, in the Death's Head. I did not fail to observe also the form of the parchment. Although one of its corners had been bent, by some accident, destroyed, it could be seen that the original form was oblong. It was just a slip, indeed, as might have been chosen for memorandum, for a record of something to be long remembered and carefully preserved. But, I interposed, you say that the skull was not upon the parchment when you made the drawing of the beetle. How then do you trace any connection between the boat and the skull? Since this latter, according to your own admission, must have been designed, god only knows how or by whom, at some period subsequent to your sketching the scarabess. Ah, hereupon turns the whole mystery. Although the secret at this point I had comparatively little difficulty in solving, my steps were sure, and could afford but a single result. I reasoned, for example, thus, when I drew the scarabess, there was no skull apparent upon the parchment. When I had completed the drawing, I gave it to you, and observed you narrowly until you returned it. You, therefore, did not design the skull, and no one else was present to do it. Then it was not done by human agency, and, nevertheless, it was done. At this stage of my reflections I endeavored to remember, and did remember, with entire distinctness, every incident which occurred about the period in question. The weather was chilly, oh rare and happy accident, and a fire was blazing upon the hearth. I was heated with exercise, and sat near the table. You, however, had drawn a chair close to the chimney. Just as I placed the parchment in your hands, and as you were in the act of inspecting it, Wolf, the newfoundling, entered, and leaped upon your shoulders. With your left hand you caressed him, and kept him off, while your right, holding the parchment, was permitted to fall listlessly between your knees, and in close proximity to the fire. At one moment I thought the blaze had caught it, and was about to caution you, but before I could speak you had withdrawn it, and were engaged in its examination. When I considered all these particulars I doubted not for a moment that heat had been the agent in bringing to light, upon the parchment, the skull which I saw designed upon it. You are well aware that chemical preparations exist, and have existed time out of mind by means of which it is possible to write upon either paper or vellum, so that the characters shall become visible only when subjected to the action of fire. Zaffer, digested in aqua regia, and diluted with four times its weight of water, is sometimes employed, agreeing to end results. The regulars of cobalt, dissolved in spirit of nighter, gives a red. These colors disappear at longer or shorter intervals after the material written upon cools, but again becomes apparent upon the reapplication of heat. I now scrutinized the death's head with care. Its outer edges, the edges of the drawing nearest the edge of the vellum, were far more distinct than the others. It was clear that the action of the caloric had been imperfect or unequal. I immediately kindled a fire and subjected every portion of the parchment to a glowing heat. At first the only effect was the strengthening of the faint lines in the skull, but upon persevering in the experiment there became visible, at the corner of the slip, diagonally opposite to the spot in which the death's head was delineated, the figure of what I at first supposed to be a goat. A closer scrutiny, however, satisfied me that it was intended for a kid. Ha ha, said I. To be sure I have no right to laugh at you. A million and a half of money is too serious a matter for mirth, but you are not about to establish a third link in your chain. You will not find any special connection between your pirates and a goat. Pirates, you know, have nothing to do with goats. They appertain to the farming interest. But I have just said that the figure was not that of a goat. Well, a kid, then. Pretty much the same thing. Pretty much, but not altogether, said Le Grand. You may have heard of one captain kid. I at once looked upon the figure of the animal as a kind of punning or hieroglyphical signature. I say signature because its position upon the vellum suggested the idea. The death's head at the corner diagonally opposite had in the same manner the air of a stamp or seal. But I was solely put out by the absence of all else, of the body to my imagined instruments, of the text for my context. I presume you expected to find a letter between the stamp and the signature. Something of that kind. The fact is I felt irresistibly impressed with the presentiment of some vast good fortune in pending. I can scarcely say why. Perhaps after all it was rather a desire than an actual belief. But do you know that Jupiter's silly words about the bug being of solid gold had a remarkable effect upon my fancy? And then the series of accidents and coincidence. These were so very extraordinary. Do you observe how mere an accident it was that these events should have occurred upon the sole day of all the year in which it has been, or may be sufficiently cool for fire? And that without the fire, or without the intervention of the dog at the precise moment in which he appeared, I should never have become aware of the death's head, and so never the possessor of the treasure. But proceed. I am all impatient. Well, you have heard, of course, the many stories current, the thousand vague rumors afloat about money buried somewhere upon the Atlantic coast by Kid and his associates. These rumors must have had some foundation, in fact. And that the rumors have existed so long and so continuous could have resulted, it appeared to me, only from the circumstance of the buried treasure still remaining entombed. Had Kid concealed his plunder for a time and afterwards reclaimed it, the rumors would scarcely have reached us in their present unvarying form. You will observe that the stories told are all about money-seekers, and not about money-finders. Had the pirate recovered his money, there the affair would have dropped. It seemed to me that some accident, say, the loss of a memorandum indicating its locality, had deprived him of the means of recovering it. And that this accident had become known to his followers, who otherwise might never have heard that the treasure had been concealed at all, and too busying themselves in vain, because unguided attempts to regain it had given first birth and then universal currency to the reports which are now so common. Have you ever heard of any important treasure being unearthed along the coast? Never. But that Kid's accumulations were immense, is well known. I took it for granted, therefore, that the earth still held them. And you will scarcely be surprised, when I tell you, that I felt a hope, nearly amounting to certainty, that the parchment, so strangely found, involved a lost record of the place of deposit. But how did you proceed? I held the vellum again to the fire, after increasing the heat, but nothing appeared. I now thought it possible that the coating of dirt might have something to do with the failure, so I carefully rinsed the parchment by pouring warm water over it, and, having done this, I placed it in a tin pan, with the skull downward, and put the pan upon a furnace of lighted charcoal. In a few minutes, the pan having become thoroughly heated, I removed the slip, and, to my inexpressible joy, found it spotted in several places, with what appeared to be figures arranged in lines. Again I placed it in the pan, and suffered it to remain another minute. Upon taking it off, the hole was just as you see it now. Here the grand, having reheated the parchment, submitted it to my inspection. The following characters were rudely traced in a red tint, between the death-head and the goat. 5, 3, double dagger, double dagger, dagger, 305, right parenthesis, right parenthesis, 6, asterisk, semicolon, 4826, right parenthesis, 4, double dagger, right parenthesis, 4, double dagger, period, semicolon, 806, asterisk, semicolon, 48, dagger, 8, pilcro, 60, right parenthesis, right parenthesis, 8, 5, semicolon, 1, double dagger, left parenthesis, semicolon, colon, double dagger, asterisk, 8, dagger, 8, 3, left parenthesis, 8, 8, right parenthesis, 5, asterisk, dagger, semicolon, 46, left parenthesis, semicolon, 8, 8, asterisk, 96, asterisk, question mark, semicolon, 8, right parenthesis, asterisk, double dagger, left parenthesis, semicolon, 485, right parenthesis, semicolon, 5, asterisk, dagger, 2, colon, asterisk, double dagger, left parenthesis, semicolon, 4956, asterisk, 2, left parenthesis, 5, asterisk, m-dash, 4, right parenthesis, 8, pilcro, 8, asterisk, semicolon, 4069, 285, right parenthesis, semicolon, right parenthesis, 6, dagger, 8, right parenthesis, 4, double dagger, double dagger, semicolon, 1, left parenthesis, double dagger, 9, semicolon, 48081, semicolon, 8, colon, 8, double dagger, 1, semicolon, 48, dagger, 8, 5, semicolon, 4, right parenthesis, 4, 8, 5, dagger, 5, 2, 8, 8, 0, 6, asterisk, 8, 1, left parenthesis, double dagger, 9, semicolon, 48, semicolon, left parenthesis, 8, 8, semicolon, 4, left parenthesis, double dagger, question mark, 3, 4, semicolon, 4, 8, right parenthesis, 4, double dagger, 4, double dagger, semicolon, 1, 6, 1, semicolon, colon, 1, 8, 8, semicolon, double dagger, question mark, semicolon. But, said I, returning him to slip, I am as much in the dark as ever, where all the jewels of Golconda awaiting me upon my solution of this enigma, I am quite sure that I should be unable to earn them. And yet, said the Grand, the solution is by no means so difficult as you might be led to imagine from the first hasty inspection of the characters. These characters, as any one might readily guess, form a cipher, that is to say, they convey a meaning. But then, from what is known of kid, I could not suppose him capable of constructing any of the more obtuse cryptographs. I made up my mind at once that this was of a simple species, such, however, as would appear to the crude intellect of the sailor, absolutely insolvable without the key. And you really solved it. Readily, I have solved others of an obtuse-ness ten thousand times greater. Circumstances and a certain bias of minds have led me to take interest in such riddles. And it may well be doubted whether human ingenuity can construct an enigma of the kind which human ingenuity may not, by proper application, resolve. In fact, having once established connected and legible characters, I scarcely gave a thought to the mere difficulty of developing their imports. In the present case, indeed in all cases of secret writing, the first question regards the language of the cipher. For the principles of solution, so far especially as the more simple ciphers are concerned, depend upon, and are varied by, the genius of the particular idiom. In general, there is no alternative but experiment, directed by probabilities, of every tongue known to him who attempts a solution, until the true one be attained. But with the cipher now before us, all difficulty was removed by the signature. The pun upon the word kid is appreciable in no other language than the English. But for this consideration I should have begun my attempts with the Spanish and French, as the tongues in which a secret of this kind would most naturally have been written by a pirate of the Spanish main. As it was, I assumed the cryptograph to be English. You observe there are no divisions between the words. Had there been divisions, the task would have been comparatively easy. In such cases I should have commenced with the collation of analysis of the shorter words, and had a word of a single letter occurred, as is most likely, A or I for example, I should have considered the solution as a short. But there being no division, my first step was to ascertain the predominant letters, as well as the least frequent. Counting all, I constructed a table, thus. Of the character eight, there are thirty-three. Semi-colon, there are twenty-six. Four, there are nineteen. Double dagger, right parenthesis, there are sixteen. Astric, there are thirteen. Five, there are twelve. Six, there are eleven. Dagger, one. There are eight. Zero, there are six. Nine, two, there are five. Colon, three, there are four. Question mark, there are three. Pilkrow, there are two. M-period, there is one. Now in English the letter which most frequently occurs is E. Afterwards the succession runs thus. A-O-I-D-H-N-R-S-T-U-Y-C-F-G-L-M-W-B-K-P-Q-X-Z. E predominates so remarkably that an individual sentence of any length is rarely seen in which it is not the prevailing character. Here, then, we have in the very beginning the groundwork for something more than a mere gas. The general use which may be made of the table is obvious, but in this particular cipher we shall only very partially require its aid. As our predominant character is eight, we will commence by assuming it as the E of the natural alphabet. To verify the supposition, let us observe if the eight be seen often in couples. For E is doubled with great frequency in English. In such words, for example, as meat, fleet, speed, scene, bin, agree, etc. In the present instance we see it doubled no less than five times, although the cryptograph is brief. Let us assume eight then as E. Now, of all words in the language, the is the most usual. Let us see, therefore, whether there are not repetitions of any three characters in the same order of collocation, the last of them being eight. If we discover repetitions of such letters, so arranged, they will most probably represent the word the. Upon inspection we find no less than seven such arrangements, the characters being semicolon four eight. We may therefore assume that semicolon represents T, four represents H, and eight represents E, the last being now well confirmed. Thus a great step has been taken. But having established a single word, we are unable to establish a vastly important point. That is to say, several commencements and terminations of other words. Let us refer, for example, to the last instance, but one in which the combination semicolon four eight occurs not far from the end of the cipher. We know that the semicolon immediately ensuing is the commencement of a word, and of the six characters succeeding this the, we are cognizant of no less than five. Let us set these characters down. Thus, by the letters we know them to represent, leaving a space for the unknown, T, space, E, E, T, H. Here we are enabled at once to discard the T, H, as forming no portion of the word commencing with the first T. Since by experiments of the entire alphabet for a letter adapted to the vacancy, we perceive that no word can be formed of which this T, H can be a part. We are thus narrowed into T, space, E, E. And going through the alphabet if necessary, as before we arrive at the word tree as the sole possible reading. We thus gain another letter, R, represented by left parenthesis with the word the tree in juxtaposition. Looking beyond these words for a short distance, we again see the combination semicolon four eight, and employ it by way of termination to what immediately proceeds. We have thus this arrangement. The tree, semicolon four, left parenthesis, double dagger, question mark, three four, the, or substituting the natural letters, where known, it reads thus. The tree, T, H, R, double dagger, question mark, three H, the. Now if in place of the unknown characters we have blank spaces or substitute dots, we read thus. The tree, T, H, R, space, space, space, H, the. When the word through makes itself evidence at once, but this discovery gives us three new letters, O, U, and G, represented by double dagger, question mark, and three. Looking now narrowly through the cipher for combinations of known characters, we find not very far from the beginning this arrangement. H3, left parenthesis, eight eight, or Y, which plainly is the conclusion of the word degree, and it gives us another letter D, represented by dagger. For letters beyond the word degree, we perceive the combination, semicolon four, six, left parenthesis, semicolon eight, eight. Translating the known characters and representing the unknown by dots, as before, we read thus. T, H, space, R, T, E, E. An arrangement immediately suggestive of the word thirteen, and again furnishing us with two new characters, I and N, represented by six and asterisk. Referring now to the beginning of the cryptograph, we find the combination, five three, double dagger, double dagger, dagger. Translating as before, we obtain space, good, which assures us that the first letter is A, and that the first two words are A, good. It is now time that we arrange our key as far as discovered in a tabular form to avoid confusion. It will stand thus. Five represents A, dagger represents D, eight represents E, three represents G, four represents H, six represents I, asterisk represents N, double dagger represents O, left parenthesis represents R, semicolon represents T, question mark represents U. We have therefore no less than eleven of the most important letters represented, and it will be unnecessary to proceed with the details of the solution. I have said enough to convince you that ciphers of this nature are readily soluble, and to give you some insight into the rationale of their development, but be assured that the specimen before us appertains to the very simplest species of cryptograph. It now only remains to give you the full translation of the characters upon the parchment as unriddled. Here it is. A good glass in the bishop's hostel in the devil's seat, forty-one degrees and thirteen minutes northeast and by a north main branch, seventh limb east side, chute from the left eye of the death's head, a bee-line from the tree, through the shot fifty feet out. But, said I, the enigma still seems in as bad a condition as ever. How is it possible to extort a meeting from all this jargon about devil's seat, death's head, and bishop's hostels? I confess, replied the grands, that the matter still wears a serious aspect, when regarded with a casual glance. My first endeavor was to divide the sentence into the natural division intended by the cryptographist. You mean, to punctuate it? Something of that kind. But how is it possible to affect this? I reflected that it had been a point with a writer to run his words together without division, so as to increase the difficulty of solution. Now, a not overacute man, in pursuing such an object, would be nearly certain to overdo the matter. When in the course of his composition he arrived at a break in his subject which would naturally require a pause or a point, he would be exceedingly apt to run his characters, at this place, more than usually close together. If you will observe the MS, in the present instance, you will easily detect five such cases of unusual crowding. Acting upon this hint, I made the division thus. A good glass in the bishop's hostel, in the devil's seat. M dash, forty-one degrees and thirteen minutes. M dash, northeast, and by north. M dash, main branch, seventh limb, east side. M dash, chute from the left eye of the death's head. M dash, a beeline from the tree, through the shot, fifty feet out. Even this division, said I, leaves me still in the dark. It left me also in the dark, replied the grand, for a few days, during which I made diligent inquiry in the neighborhood of Sullivan's Island, for any building which went by name of the bishop's hotel, for of course I dropped the obsolete word, hostel. Gaining no information on the subject, I was on the point of extending my sphere of search, and proceeding in a more systematic manner, when, one morning, it entered into my head quite suddenly, that this bishop's hostel might have some reference to an old family, of the name of Besseb, which, time out of mind, had held possession of an ancient manor house, about four miles to the northward of the islands. I accordingly went over to the plantation, and reinstituted my inquiries among the older negroes of the place. At length one of the most aged of the women said that she had heard of such a place as Besseb's castle, and thought that she could guide me to it, but that it was not a castle, nor a tavern, but a high rock. I offered to pay her well for her trouble, and after some demure, she consented to accompany me to the spot. We found it without much difficulty, when, dismissing her, I proceeded to examine the place. The castle consisted of an irregular assemblage of cliffs and rocks, one of the latter being quite remarkable for its height, as well as for its insulated and artificial appearance. I clamored to its apex, and then felt much at a loss as to what should be next done. While I was busy in reflection, my eyes fell upon a narrow ledge in the eastern face of the rock, perhaps a yard below the summit, upon which I stood. This ledge projected about 18 inches, and was not more than a foot wide, while a niche in the cliff, just above it, gave a rude resemblance to one of the hollow-backed chairs used by our ancestors. I made no doubt that here was the devil's seat alluded to in the MS, and now I seem to grasp the full secret of the riddle. The good glass I knew could have referenced to nothing but a telescope, for the word glass, is rarely employed in any other sense by seamen. And here I at once saw was a telescope to be used, and a definite point of view, admitting no variation, from which to use it. Nor did I hesitate to believe that the phrases, 41 degrees and 13 minutes, and northeast by north, were intended as directions for the leveling of the glass. Greatly excited by these discoveries, I hurried home, procured a telescope, and returned to the rock. I let myself down to the ledge, and found that it was impossible to retain a seat upon it except in one particular position. This fact confirmed my preconceived idea. I proceeded to use the glass. Of course the 41 degrees and 13 minutes could allude to nothing but elevation above the visible horizon, since the horizontal direction was clearly indicated by the words northeast and by north. This latter direction I at once established by means of a pocket compass. Then, pointing the glass as nearly at an angle of 41 degrees of elevation as I could do it by guess, I moved it cautiously up or down, until my attention was arrested by a circular rift or opening in the foliage of a large tree that overtopped its fellows in the distance. In the corner of this rift I perceived a white spot, but could not at first distinguish what it was. Adjusting the focus of the telescope I again looked, and now made it out to be a human skull. Upon this discovery I was so sanguine as to consider the enigma solves. For the phrase, main branch, seventh limb, east side, could refer only to the position of the skull upon the tree, while, shoot from the left eye of the death's head, admitted also, of but one interpretation in regard to a search for buried treasure. I perceived that the design was to drop a bullet from the left eye of the skull, and that a B line, or in other words a straight line, the drawn from the nearest point of the trunk, through the shot, or the spot where the bullet fell, and then extended to a distance of 50 feet, would indicate a definite point, and beneath this point I thought it at least possible that a deposit of value lay concealed. All this, I said, is exceedingly clear, and although ingenious, still simple and explicit. When you left the bishop's hotel, what then? Why, having carefully taken the bearings of the tree, I turned homeward. The instant that I left the devil's seat, however, the circular rift vanished. Nor could I get a glimpse of it afterwards, turn as I would. What seems to me the chief ingenuity in this whole business is the fact. For repeated experiment has convinced me it is a fact. That the circular opening in question is visible from no other attainable point of view than that afforded by the narrow ledge upon the face of the rock. In this expedition to the bishop's hotel, I had been attended by Jupiter, who had no doubt observed, for some weeks past, the abstraction of my demeanor, and took a special care not to leave me alone. But on the next day, getting up very early, I contrived to give him the slip, and went into the hills in search of the tree. After much toil, I found it. When I came home at night, my valet proposed to give me a flogging. With the rest of the adventure I believed you are as well acquainted as myself. I suppose, said I, you missed the spot in the first attempt at digging, through Jupiter's stupidity in letting the bug fall through the right instead of through the left eye of the skull. Precisely. This mistake made a difference of about two inches and a half in the shot, that is to say in the position of the peg nearest the tree. And had the treasure been beneath the shot, the error would have been of little moments. But the shot, together with the nearest point of the tree, were merely two points for the establishment of a line of direction. Of course, the error, however trivial in the beginning, increased as we proceeded with the line, and by the time we had gone fifty feet, there was quite off the sense. But for my deep-seated impressions that treasure was here somewhere actually buried, we might have had all our labor in vain. But your grand delinquents and your conduct in swinging the beetle, how excessively odd, I was sure you were mad, and why did you insist upon letting fall the bug instead of a bullet from the skull? Why, to be frank, I felt somewhat annoyed by your evident suspicions touching my sanity, and so resolved to punish you quietly, in my own way, by a little bit of sober mystification. For this reason I swung the beetle, and for this reason I let it fall from the tree. An observation of yours about its great weight suggested the latter idea. Yes, I perceive, and now there is only one point which puzzles me. What are we to make of the skeletons found in the hole? That is a question I am no more able to answer than yourself. There seems, however, only one plausible way of accounting for them, and yet it is dreadful to believe in such atrocity as my suggestion would imply. It is clear that Kid, if Kid indeed secreted this treasure, which I doubt not, it is clear that he must have had assistance in the labor. But, this labor concluded, he may have thought it expedient to remove all participants in his secret. Perhaps a couple of blows with a medic were sufficient, while his co-agitors were busy in the pit. Perhaps it required a dozen. Who shall tell? End of Section 11. Recording by Katie Riley, October 2009 Section 12 of Library of World's Best Mystery and Detective Stories, Volume 1. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Eve Yerle. Library of the World's Best Mystery and Detective Stories, Volume 1 by Julian Hawthorne Editor, Section 12. Wolfert Webber or Golden Dreams, Part 1 by Washington Irving. Washington Irving. Wolfert Webber or Golden Dreams. In the Year of Grace, 1700 and… blank. For I do not remember the precise date. However, it was somewhere in the early part of the last century. There lived in the ancient city of the Manhattan's a worthy burger, Wolfert Webbert by name. He was descended from old Cobus Webber of the Brill in Holland. One of the original settlers famous for introducing the cultivation of cabbages, and who came over to the province during the protectorship of Olofife van Cortlandt, otherwise called the Dreamer. The field in which Cobus Webber first planted himself and his cabbages has remained ever since in the family, who continued in the same line of husbandry with that praiseworthy perseverance for which our Dutch burgers are noted. The whole family genius during several generations was devoted to the study and development of this one noble vegetable, and to this concentration of intellect may doubtless be ascribed the prodigious renown to which the Webber cabbages attained. The Webber dynasty continued in uninterrupted succession and never did a line give more unquestionable proofs of legitimacy. The eldest son succeeded to the looks as well as the territory of his sire, and had the portraits of this line of tranquil potentates been taken, they would have presented a row of heads marvelously resembling in shape and magnitude the vegetables over which they reigned. The seat of government continued unchanged in the family mansion, a Dutch-built house with a front or rather gable end of yellow brick tapering to a point with the customary iron weathercock at the top. Everything about the building bore the air of long-settled ease and security. Flights of martins peopled the little coops nailed against its walls and swallows built their nests under the eaves, and everyone knows that these house-loving birds bring good luck to the dwelling where they take up their abode. In a bright summer morning and early summer it was delectable to hear their cheerful notes as they sported about in the pure sweet air, chirping forth, as it were, the greatness and prosperity of the webers. Thus quietly and comfortably did this excellent family vegetate under the shade of a mighty button-wood tree, which by little and little grew so great as entirely to overshadow their palace. The city gradually spread its suburbs round their domain. Houses sprang up to interrupt their prospects. The rural lanes in the vicinity began to grow into the bustle and populousness of streets. In short, with all the habits of rustic life they began to find themselves the inhabitants of a city. Still, however, they maintained their hereditary character and hereditary possessions with all the tenacity of petty German princes in the midst of the empire. Wolfert was the last of the line and succeeded to the patriarchal bench at the door under the family tree and swayed the scepter of his father's, a kind of rural potentate in the midst of the metropolis. To share the cares and sweets of sovereignty he had taken unto himself a helpmate, one of that excellent kind called stirring women. That is to say, she was one of those notable little housewives who are always busy where there is nothing to do. Her activity, however, took one particular direction. Her whole life seemed devoted to intense knitting, whether at home or abroad, walking or sitting, her needles were continually in motion, and it is even affirmed that by her unwirried industry she very nearly supplied her household with stockings throughout the year. This worthy couple were blessed with one daughter who was brought up with great tenderness and care. Uncommon pains had been taken with her education so that she could stitch in every variety of way, make all kinds of pickles and preserves, and mark her own name on a sampler. The influence of her taste was also seen in the family garden where the ornamental began to mingle with the useful. Whole rows of fiery marigolds and splendid hollyhocks bordered the cabbage beds, and gigantic sunflowers lulled their broad, jolly faces over the fences, seeming to ogle most affectionately the passers-by. Thus reigned and vegetated Wolfert Weber over his paternal acres peacefully and contentedly. Not but that, like all other sovereigns, he had his occasional cares and vexations. The growth of his native city sometimes caused him annoyance. His little territory gradually became hemmed in by streets and houses, which intercepted air and sunshine. He was now and then subjected to the eruptions of the border population that infest the streets of Amatropolis, who would make midnight forays into his dominions and carry off captive whole platoons of his noblest subjects. Vagrant swine would make a descent, too, now and then when the gate was left open, and lay all waste before them. And mischievous urchins would decapitate the illustrious sunflowers, the glory of the garden, as they lulled their heads so fondly over the walls. Still all these were petty grievances, which might now and then ruffle the surface of his mind as a summer breeze would ruffle the surface of a mill-pond, but they could not disturb the deep-seated quiet of his soul. He would but seize a trusty staff that stood behind the door, issue suddenly out, and anoint the back of the aggressor, whether pig or urchin, and then return within doors, marvelously refreshed and tranquilized. The chief cause of anxiety to Honest Wolfert, however, was the growing prosperity of the city. The expenses of living doubled and trebled, he could not double and treble the magnitude of his cabbages, and the number of competitors prevented the increase of price. Thus, therefore, while everyone around him grew richer, Wolfert grew poorer, and he could not, for the life of him, perceive how the evil was to be remedied. This growing care which increased from day to day had its gradual effect upon our worthy burger, in so much that it at length implanted two or three wrinkles in his brow, things unknown before in the family of the Webers, and it seemed to pinch up the corners of his cock-tat into an expression of anxiety totally opposite to the tranquil, broad-brimmed, low-crowned beavers of his illustrious progenitors. Perhaps even this would not have materially disturbed the serenity of his mind had he only himself and his wife to care for, but there was his daughter gradually growing to maturity, and all the world knows that when daughters begin to ripen, no fruit or flower requires so much looking after. I have no talent at describing female charms, else Faine I would depict the progress of this little Dutch beauty, how her blue eyes grew deeper and deeper, and her cherry lips redder and redder, how she ripened and ripened and rounded and rounded in the opening breath of sixteen summers until, in her seventeenth spring, she seemed ready to burst out of her bodice like a half-blown rosebud. Ah, well a day could I but show her as she was then, tricked out on a Sunday morning in the hereditary finery of the old Dutch clothes-press, of which her mother had confided to her the key, the wedding-dress of her grandmother modernized for use with sundry ornaments handed down as heirlooms in the family, her pale brown hair smoothed with buttermilk in flat, waving lines on each side of her fair forehead, the chain of yellow virgin gold that encircled her neck, the little cross that just rested at the entrance of a soft valley of happiness, as if it would sanctify the place. The—but puh, it is not for an old man like me to be prosing about female beauty. Suffice it to say, Amy had attained her seventeenth year, long since had her sampler exhibited hearts and couples desperately transfixed with arrows, and true lovers' knots worked in deep blue silk, and it was evident she began to languish for some more interesting occupation than the rearing of sunflowers or pickling of cucumbers. At this critical period of female existence, when the heart within a damsel's bosom, like its emblem, the miniature which hangs without, is apt to be engrossed by a single image, a new visitor began to make his appearance under the roof of Wolford Webber. This was Dirk Waldron, the only son of a poor widow, but who could boast of more fathers than any lad in the province, for his mother had four husbands and this only child, so that, though born in her last wedlock, he might fairly claim to beat the tardy fruit of a long course of cultivation. This son of four fathers united the merits and vigor of all his sires. If he had not a great family before him, he seemed likely to have a great one after him, for you had only to look at the fresh, buxom youth to see that he was formed to be the founder of a mighty race. This youngster gradually became an intimate visitor of the family. He talked little, but he sat long. He filled the father's pipe when it was empty, gathered up the mother's knitting-neil or ball of worsted when it fell to the ground, stroked the sleek coat of the tortoise-shell cat, and replenished the teapot for the daughter from the bright copper kettle that sang before the fire. All these quiet little offices might seem of trifling import, but when true love is translated into low Dutch, it is in this way that it eloquently expresses itself. They were not lost upon the Weber family. The winning youngster found marvelous favor in the eyes of the mother. The tortoise-shell cat, albeit the most staid and demure of her kind, gave indubitable signs of approbation of his visits. The teakettle seemed to sing out a cheering note of welcome at his approach. And if the sly glances of the daughter might be rightly read, as she sat bridling and dimpling and sewing by her mother's side, she was not a wit behind Dame Weber or Gramelkin or the teakettle in good will. Wolfert alone saw nothing of what was going on. Profoundly wrapped up in meditation on the growth of the city and his cabbages, he sat looking in the fire and puffing his pipe in silence. One night, however, as the gentle Amy, according to custom, lighted her lover to the outer door and he, according to custom, took his parting salute, the smack resounded so vigorously through the long, silent entry as to startle even the dull ear of Wolfert. He was slowly roused to a new source of anxiety. It had never entered into his head that this mere child who, as it seemed, but the other day had been climbing about his knees and playing with dolls and baby houses, could all at once be thinking of lovers and matrimony. He rubbed his eyes, examined into the fact, and really found that while he'd been dreaming of other matters, she had actually grown to be a woman, and what was worse, had fallen in love. Here arose new cares for Wolfert. He was a kind father, but he was a prudent man. The young man was a lively, stirring lad. But then he had neither money nor land. Wolfert's ideas all ran in one channel, and he saw no alternative in case of a marriage but to portion off the young couple with a corner of his cabbage garden, the whole of which was barely sufficient for the support of his family. Like a prudent father, therefore, he determined to nip this passion in the bud and forbade the youngster the house, though sorely it did go against his fatherly heart, and many a silent tear did it cause in the bright eye of his daughter. She showed herself, however, a pattern of filial piety and obedience. She never pouted and sulked. She never flew in the face of parental authority. She never flew into a passion, nor fell into hysterics as many romantic, novel-read young ladies would do. Not she, indeed. She was none such heroical, rebellious, trumpereal, warrant you. On the contrary, she acquiesced like an obedient daughter, shut the street door in her lover's face, and if ever she did grant him an interview, it was either out of the kitchen window or over the garden fence. Wolfert was deeply cogitating these matters in his mind, and his brow wrinkled with unusual care as he wended his way one Saturday afternoon to a rural inn about two miles from the city. It was a favorite resort of the Dutch part of the community, from being always held by a Dutch line of landlords and retaining an air and relish of the good old times. It was a Dutch-built house that had probably been a country seat of some opulent burger in the early time of the settlement. It stood near a point of land called Corleers Hoek, which stretches out into the sound and against which the tide at its flux and reflux sets with extraordinary rapidity. The venerable and somewhat crazy mansion was distinguished from afar by a grove of elms and sycamores that seemed to wave a hospitable invitation, while a few weeping willows with their dank, drooping foliage resembling falling waters gave an idea of coolness that rendered it an attractive spot during the heats of summer. Here, therefore, as I said, resorted many of the old inhabitants of the Manhattan's, where, while some played a shuffleboard and quites and ninepins, others smoked a deliberate pipe and talked over public affairs. It was on a blustering, autumnal afternoon that Wolfert made his visit to the inn. The grove of elms and willows was stripped of its leaves, which whirled in rustling eddies about the fields. The ninepin alley was deserted, for the premature chilliness of the day had driven the company within doors. As it was Saturday afternoon, the habitual club was in session, composed principally of regular Dutch burgers, though mingled occasionally with persons of various character and country, as is natural in a place of such motley population. Beside the fireplace, in a huge leather-bottomed armchair sat the dictator of this little world, the venerable Rem, or, as it was pronounced, Raneem Rapalai. He was a man of walloon race and illustrious for the antiquity of his line, his great grandmother having been the first white child born in the province, but he was still more illustrious for his wealth and dignity. He had long filled the noble office of Alderman, and was a man to whom the governor himself took off his hat. He had maintained possession of the leather-bottomed chair from time immemorial, and had gradually waxed in bulk as he sat in his seat of government, until in the course of years he filled its whole magnitude. His word was decisive with his subjects, for he was so rich a man he was never expected to support any opinion by argument. The landlord waited on him with peculiar officiousness, not that he paid better than his neighbors, but then the coin of a rich man always seems to be so much more acceptable. The landlord had ever a pleasant word and a joke to insinuate in the ear of the August Rom. It was true Rom never laughed, and indeed, ever maintained a mastiff like gravity and even surliness of aspect. Yet he now and then rewarded my host with a token of approbation, which, though nothing more nor less than a kind of grunt, still delighted the landlord more than a broad laugh from a poorer man. This will be a rough night for the money-diggers, said my host, as a gust of wind howled round the house and rattled at the windows. What, are they at their works again? said an English half-pay captain with one eye who was a very frequent attendant at the inn. Aye, they are, said the landlord, and well may they be. They've had luck of late. They say a great pot of money has been dug up in the fields just behind Stuyvesant's Orchard. Fudge! said the one-eyed man of war, as he added a small portion of water to a bottom of brandy. Well, believe it or not, as you please, said my host, somewhat netted, but everybody knows that the old governor buried a great deal of his money at the time of the Dutch Troubles when the English Redcoats seized on the province. They say, too, the old gentleman walks aye, and in the very same dress that he wears in the picture that hangs up in the family house. Fudge! said the half-pay officer. Fudge, if you please, but didn't Corné van Zandt see him at midnight stalking about in the meadow with his wooden leg and a drawn sword in his hand that flashed like fire? And what can he be walking for, but because people have been troubling the place where he buried his money in old times? Here the landlord was interrupted by several guttural sounds from Ramm, Rammply, betokening that he was laboring with the unusual production of an idea. As he was too great a man to be slighted by a prudent publican, my host respectfully paused until he should deliver himself. The corpulent frame of this mighty burger now gave all the symptoms of a volcanic mountain on the point of an eruption. First there was a certain heaving of the abdomen, not unlike an earthquake. Then was emitted a cloud of tobacco smoke from that crater, his mouth. Then there was a kind of rattle in the throat, as if the idea were working its way up through a region of phlegm. Then there were several disjointed members of a sentence thrown out, ending in a cough. At length his voice forced its way into a slow but absolute tone of a man who feels the weight of his purse, if not of his ideas, every portion of his speech being marked by a testy puff of tobacco smoke. Who talks of old Peter Stuyvesant's walking, puff? Have people no respect for persons? Puff, puff. Peter Stuyvesant knew better what to do with his money than to bury it, puff. I know the Stuyvesant family, puff. Every one of them, puff. Not a more respectable family in the province, puff. Old standards, puff. Warm householders, puff. None of your upstarts, puff. Puff, puff. Puff. Don't talk to me of Peter Stuyvesant's walking, puff. Puff, puff. Puff, puff. Here the redoubtable ram contracted his brow, clasped up his mouth till it wrinkled at each corner, and redoubled his smoking with such vehemence that the cloudy volume soon wreathed round his head as the smoke envelops the awful summit of Mount Etna. A general silence followed the sudden rebuke of this very rich man. The subject, however, was too interesting to be readily abandoned. The conversation soon broke forth again from the lips of Pitchie Prow Van Hook, the chronicler of the club, one of those prosing narrative old men who seemed to be troubled with an incontinence of words as they grow old. Pitchie could at any time tell as many stories in an evening as his hearers could digest in a month. He now resumed the conversation by affirming that, to his knowledge, money had, at different times, been digged up in various parts of the island. The lucky persons who had discovered them had always dreamed of them three times beforehand, and, what was worthy of remark, those treasures had never been found but by some descendant of the good old Dutch families which clearly proved that they had no time. Fiddlesticks with your Dutchman cried the half-pay officer. The Dutch had nothing to do with them. They were all buried by Kid, the pirate and his crew. Here a keynote was touched that roused the whole company. The name of Captain Kid was like a talisman in those times and was associated with a thousand marvelous stories. The half-pay officer took the lead and in his narrations fathered upon Kid all the plunderings and exploits of Morgan, Blackbeard, and the whole list of bloody buccaneers. The officer was a man of great weight among the peaceable members of the club by reason of his war-like character and gunpowder tales. All his golden stories of Kid, however, and the boot he had buried were obstinately rivaled by the tales of Peechie Prough who rather than suffer his Dutch progenitors to be eclipsed by a foreign free bootherd enriched every field and shore in the neighborhood with the hidden wealth of Peter Stuyvesant and his contemporaries. Not a word of this conversation was lost upon Wilfert Weber. He returned pensively home full of magnificent ideas. The soil of his native island seemed to be turned into gold dust and every field to team with treasure. His head almost reeled at the thought of how often he must have heedlessly rambled in the places where countless sums lay scarcely covered by the turf beneath his feet. His mind was in an uproar with this whirl of new ideas as he came in sight of the venerable mansion of his forefathers and the little realm where the Webers had so long and so contentedly flourished his gorge rose at the narrowness of his destiny. Unlucky Wilfert exclaimed he Others can go to bed and dream themselves into whole minds of wealth they have but to seize a spade in the morning and turn up to blooms like potatoes but thou must dream of hardships and rise to poverty must dig thy field from year's end to year's end and yet raise nothing but cabbages. Wilfert Weber went to bed with a heavy heart and it was long before the golden visions that disturbed his brain permitted him to sink into repose. The same visions however extended into his sleeping thoughts and assumed a more definite form. He dreamed that he had discovered an immense treasure in the center of his garden. At every stroke of the spade he laid bare a golden ingot diamond crosses sparkled out of the dust bags of money turned up their bellies corpulent with pieces of eight or venerable to blooms and chests wedged close with moiders, ducats and pisterines yawned before his ravished eyes and vomited forth their glittering contents. Wilfert awoke a poorer man than ever. He had no heart to go about his daily concerns which appeared so paltry and profitless but sat all day long in the chimney corner picturing to himself ingots and heaps of gold in the fire. The next night his dream was repeated. He was again in his garden digging and lay open stores of hidden wealth. There was something very singular in this repetition. He passed another day of reverie and though it was cleaning day in the house as usual in Dutch households, completely topsy-turvy, yet he sat unmoved amidst the general uproar. The third night he went to bed with a palpitating heart. He put on his red nightcap wrongside outward for good luck. It was deep midnight before his anxious mind could settle itself into sleep. Again the golden dream was repeated and again he saw his garden teeming with ingots and money bags. End of Section 12 Recording by Eve Yerle Section 13 of Library of World's Best Mystery and Detective Stories, Volume 1 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Bill Cisna Library of the World's Best Mystery and Detective Stories, Volume 1 by Julian Hawthorne Editor Section 13 Wolfert Webber or Golden Dreams Part 2 by Washington Irving Wolfert rose the next morning in complete bewilderment. A dream three times repeated was never known to lie and if so his fortune was made. In his agitation he put on his waistcoat with the hind part before and this was a corroboration of good luck. He no longer doubted that a huge store of money lay buried somewhere in his cabbage field, coily waiting to be sought for and he repined at having so long been scratching about the surface of the soil instead of digging to the center. He took his seat at the breakfast table full of these speculations asked his daughter to put a lump of gold into his tea and on handing his wife a plate of slapjacks begged her to help herself to a doubloon. His grand care now was how to secure this immense treasure without its being known. Instead of his working regularly in his grounds in the daytime he now stole from his bed at night and with spade and pickaxe went to work to rip up and dig about his paternal acres from one end to the other. In a little time the whole garden which had presented such a goodly and regular appearance with its failings of cabbages like a vegetable army in battle array was reduced to a scene of devastation while the relentless Wolford with nightcap on head and lantern and spade in hand stalked through the slaughtered ranks the destroying angel of his own vegetable world. Every morning bore testimony to the ravages of the proceeding night in cabbages of all ages and conditions from the tender sprout to the full grown head piteously rooted from their quiet beds like worthless weeds and left to wither in the sunshine. In vain Wolford's wife demonstrated. In vain his darling daughter wept over the destruction of some favorite marigold. Thou shalt have gold of another guest sort, he would cry chucking her under the chin. Thou shalt have a string of crooked dook hats for thy wedding necklace, my child. His family began really to fear that the poor man's wits were diseased. He muttered in his sleep at night about mines of wealth about pearls and diamonds and bars of gold. In the daytime he was moody and abstracted and walked about as if in a trance. Dame Weber held frequent councils with all the old women of the neighborhood. Scares an hour in the day but a knot of them might be seen wagging their white caps together round her door while the poor woman made some piteous recital. The daughter too was feigned to seek for more frequent consolation from the stolen interviews of her favorite swain, Dirk Waldron. The delectable little Dutch songs with which she used to dulcify the house grew less and less frequent and she would forget her sowing and look wistfully in her father's face as he sat pondering by the fireside. Wolfert caught her eye one day fixed on him thus anxiously and for a moment was roused in reveries. Cheer up, my girl, said he exultingly. Why dost thou droop? Thou shalt hold up thy head one day with the Brinker haves and the Sherwer horns, the Van horns and the Van dams. By St. Nicholas but the patroon himself shall be glad to get thee for his son. Amy shook her head at his vain glorious boast and was more than ever in doubt of the soundness of the good man's intellect. In the meantime Wolfert went on digging and digging but the field was extensive and as his dream had indicated no precise spot, he had to dig at random. The winter set in before one tenth of the scene of promise had been explored. The ground became frozen hard and the night too cold for the labors of the spade. No sooner, however, did the returning warmth of spring loosen the soil while frogs began to pipe in the meadows but Wolfert resumed his labors with renovated zeal. Still, however, the hours of industry were reversed. Instead of working cheerily all day planting and setting out his vegetables he remained thoughtfully idle until the shades of night summoned him to his secret labors. In this way he continued to dig from night to night in week to week and month to month but not as stiver did he find. On the contrary the more he digged the poorer he grew. The rich soil of his garden was digged away and the sand and gravel from beneath was thrown to the surface until the whole field presented an aspect of sandy barrenness. In the meantime the seasons gradually rolled on. The little frogs which had piped in early spring croaked as bullfrogs during the summer heats and then sank into silence. The peach tree budded, blossomed and bore its fruit. The swallows and martins came twittered about the roof built their nests reared their young held their congress among the eaves and then winged their flight in search of another spring. The caterpillar spun its winding sheet dangled it from the great buttonwood tree before the house turned into a moth fluttered with the last sunshine of summer and disappeared and finally the leaves of the buttonwood tree turned yellow then brown then rustled one by one to the ground and whirling about in little eddies of wind and dust whispered that winter was at hand. Wolfert gradually woke from his dream of wealth and severe declined. He had reared no crop for the supply of his household during the sterility of winter. The season was long and severe and for the first time the family was really straightened in its comforts. By degrees a revulsion of thought took place in Wolfert's mind common to those whose golden dreams have been disturbed by pinching realities. The idea gradually stole upon him that he should come to want. He already considered himself one of the most unfortunate men in the province having lost such an incalculable amount of undiscovered treasure and now when thousands of pounds had eluded his search to be perplexed for shillings and pens was cruel in the extreme. Haggard Care gathered about his brow. He went about with a money-seeking air. His eyes meant downward into the dust and carrying his hands in his pockets as men are apt to do when they have nothing else to put in them. He could not even pass the city alms house without giving it a rueful glance as if destined to be his future abode. The strangeness of his conduct and of his looks occasioned much speculation and remark. For a long time he was suspected of being crazy and then everybody pitied him and at length it began to be suspected that he was poor and then everybody avoided him. The rich old burgers of his acquaintance met him outside of the door when he called, entertained him hospitably on the threshold, pressed him warmly by the hand at parting, shook their heads as he walked away with the kind-hearted expression of poor wolfert and turned a corner nimbly if by chance they saw him approaching as they walked the streets. Even the barber and the cobbler of the neighborhood and a tattered tailor in an alley hard by, three of the poorest and merriest rogues in the world, eyed him with that abundant sympathy which usually attends a lack of means. And there is not a doubt, but their pockets would have been at his command only that they happened to be empty. Thus everybody deserted the Weber mansion as if poverty were contagious like the plague. Everybody but honest Dirk Waldron, who still kept up his stolen visits to the daughter and indeed seemed to wax more affectionate as the fortunes of his mistress were on the wane. Many once had elapsed since Wolfert had frequented his old resort the rural inn. He was taking a long lonely walk one Saturday afternoon musing over his wants and disappointments when his feet took instinctively their wanted direction and on a waking out of a reverie he found himself before the door of the inn. For some moments he hesitated whether to enter but his heart yearned companionship and where can a ruined man find better companionship than at a tavern where there is neither sober example nor sober advice to put him out of countenance. Wolfert found several of the old frequenters of the inn at their usual posts and seated in their usual places. But one was missing the great Ram Rapalje, who for many years had filled the leather chair of state. His place was supplied by a stranger who seemed however completely at home in the chair and the tavern. He was rather under size but deep chested square and muscular. His broad shoulders, double joints and bow knees gave tokens of prodigious strength. His face was dark and weather beaten. A deep scar as if from the slash of a cutlass had almost divided his nose and made a gash in his upper lip through which his teeth shone like a bulldog's. A mop of iron grey hair gave a grisly finish to this hard favored visage. His dress was of an amphibious character. He wore an old hat edged with tarnished lace and cocked in martial style on one side of his head, a rusty blue military coat with brass buttons and a red pair of short petticoat trousers or rather breeches for they were gathered up at the knees. He ordered everybody about him with an authoritative air talking in a braddling voice that sounded like the crackling of thorns under a pot. Deed the landlord and servants with perfect impunity and was weighted upon with greater obsequiousness than had ever been shown to the emperor's curiosity was awakened to know who and what was this stranger who had thus usurped absolute sway in this ancient domain. Peachy proud took him aside into a remote corner of the hall and there in an under voice and with great caution imparted to him all that he knew on the subject. The inn had been aroused several months before on a dark stormy night by repeated long shouts that seemed like the howlings of a wolf. They came from the water side and at length were distinguished to be hailing the house in a seafaring manner. House ahoy! The landlord turned out with his head waiter, tapster, hostler, and errand boy that is to say with his old negro cuff. On approaching the place once the voice proceeded they found this amphibious looking personage at the water's edge quite alone and seated on a great oaken sea-chest. How he came there whether he had been set unsure from some boat or had floated to land on his chest nobody could tell for he did not seem disposed to answer questions and there was something in his looks and manners that put a stop to all questioning. Suffice it to say he took possession of a corner room of the inn to which his chest was removed with great difficulty. Here he had remained ever since keeping about the inn and its vicinity. Sometimes it is true he disappeared for one, two, or three days at a time going and returning without giving any notice or account of his movements. He always appeared to have plenty of money though often of very strange outlandish coinage and he regularly paid his bill every evening before turning in. He had fitted up his room to his own fancy having slung a hammock from the ceiling instead of a bed and decorated the walls with rusty pistols and cutlasses of foreign workmanship. A greater part of his time was passed in this room seated by the window which commanded a wide view of the sound. A glass of rum toddy at his elbow and a pocket telescope in his hand with which he reconnoitered every boat that moved upon the water. Large square-rigged vessels seemed to excite but little attention but the moment he described anything with a shoulder of mutton sail or that of a barge or yaw or a jolly boat hove in sight up went the telescope and he examined it with the most scrupulous attention. All this might have passed without much notice for in those times the province was so much the resort of adventurers of all characters and climbs that any oddity and dress or behavior attracted but small attention. In a little while however this strange sea monster thus strangely cast upon dry land began to encroach upon the long established customs of the place and to interfere in a dictatorial manner in the affairs of the nine pin alley and the bar room until in the end he usurped an absolute command over the whole inn. It was all in vain to attempt to withstand his authority. He was not exactly quarrelsome but boisterous and peremptory like one accustomed to tyrannize on a quarter-deck and there was a daredevil there about everything he said and did that inspired wariness in all bystanders. Even the half-pay officer so long the hero of the club was soon silenced by him and the quiet burgers stared with wonder at seeing their inflammable man of war so readily and quietly extinguished. And then the tales that he would tell were enough to make a peaceable man's hair stand on end. He would not be afraid of the plight nor marauding nor free-booting adventure that had happened within the last 20 years but he seemed perfectly versed in it. He delighted to talk of the exploits of the buccaneers in the West Indies and on the Spanish main. How his eyes would glisten as he described the way-laying of treasure ships, the desperate fights, yardarm and yardarm, broadside and broadside and galleons. With what chuckling relish would he describe the descent upon some rich Spanish colony, the rifling of a church, the sacking of a convent. You would have thought you heard some gourmandiser dilating upon the roasting of a savory goose at Mikkelmus as he described the roasting of some Spanish dawn to make him discover his treasure. A detail given with a minuteness would the present turn uncomfortably in his chair. All this would be told with infinite glee as if he considered it an excellent joke and then he would give such a tyrannical leer in the face of his next neighbor that the poor man would be feigned to laugh out of sheer faint-heartedness. If anyone however pretended to contradict him in any of his stories he was on fire in an instant. His very cocked hat was a momentary fierceness and seemed to resent the contradiction. How the devil should you know as well as I, I tell you it was as I say! And he would at the same time let slip a broadside of thundering oaths and tremendous sea phrases such as had never been heard before within these peaceful walls. Indeed the worthy burgers began to surmise that he knew more of these stories day after day their conjectures concerning him grew more and more wild and fearful. The strangeness of his arrival the strangeness of his manners the mystery that surrounded him all made him something incomprehensible in their eyes. He was a kind of monster of the deep to them. He was a merman he was a behemoth he was a leviathan. In short they knew not what he was. The domineering spirit of this boisterous sea urchin at length grew quite intolerable. He was no respecter of persons. He contradicted the richest burgers without hesitation. He took possession of the sacred elbow chair which time out of mind had been the seat of sovereignty of the illustrious Ram Rappelge. Nay he even went so far in one of his rough jocular moods as to slap that dirty burger on the back drink his toddy and wink in his face a thing scarcely to be believed. From this time Ram Rappelge appeared no more at the inn. His example was followed by several of the most eminent customers who were too rich to tolerate being bullied out of their opinions or being obliged to laugh at another man's jokes. The landlord was almost in despair but he knew not how to get rid of this sea monster and his sea chest who seemed both to have grown like fixtures or excrescences on his establishment. Such was the account whispered cautiously in Wolfert's ear by the narrator Peechee Proul as he held him by the button in a corner of the hall casting a weary glance now and then toward the door of the bar room lest he should be overheard by the noble hero of his tale. Wolfert took his seat in a remote part of the room in silence impressed with profound awe of this unknown so versed in free-booting history. It was to him a wonderful instance of the revolutions of mighty empires to find the venerable Ram Rappelge thus ousted from the throne in a rugged tarpaulin dictating from his elbow chair in the patriarchs and filling this tranquil little realm with brawl and rivado. The stranger was on this evening in a more than usually communicative mood and was narrating a number of astounding stories of plunderings and burnings on the high seas. He dwelt upon them with peculiar relish heightening the frightful particulars in proportion to their effect on his peaceful auditors. He gave a swaggering detail of the capture of a Spanish merchantman. She was lying be calmed during a long summer's day just off from the island which was one of the lurking places of the pirates. They had reconnoitred her with their spyglasses from the shore and ascertained her character and force. At night a picked crew of daring fellows set off for her in a whale boat. They approached with muffled oars as she lay rocking idly with the undulations of the sea and her sails flapping against the masts. They were close under the stern before the guard on deck was aware of their approach. The alarm was given the pirates threw hand grenades on deck and sprang up the main chains soared in hand. The crew flew to arms but in great confusion. Some were shot down others took refuge in the tops others were driven overboard and drowned while others fought hand to hand from the main deck to the quarter deck disputing gallantly every inch of ground. There were three Spanish gentlemen on board with their ladies who made the most desperate resistance. They defended the companion way cut down several of their assailants and fought like very devils for they were maddened by the shrieks of the ladies from the cabin. One of the dons was old and soon dispatched. The other two kept their ground vigorously even though the captain of the pirates was among their assailants. Just then there was a shout of victory from the main deck. The ship is ours! cried the pirates. One of the dons immediately dropped his sword and surrendered. The other who was a hot headed youngster and just married gave the captain a slash in the face that laid open. The captain just made out to articulate the words note quarter. And what did they do with their prisoners? said Pichy Praw eagerly. Through them all over board was the answer. A dead pause followed the reply. Pichy Praw sank quietly back like a man who had unwarily stolen upon the lair of a sleeping lion. The honest burgers cast fearful glances deep scar slashed across the visage of the stranger and moved their chairs a little farther off. The seaman however, smoked on without moving a muscle as though he either did not perceive or did not regard the unfavorable effect he had produced upon his hearers. The half pay officer was the first to break the silence for he was continually tempted to make ineffectual head against this tyrant of the seas and to regain his lost consequence in the eyes of his ancient companions. He now tried to match the gunpowder tales of the stranger by others equally tremendous. Kid as usual was his hero concerning whom he seemed to have picked up many of the floating traditions of the province. The seaman had always evinced a settled peak against the one-eyed warrior. On this occasion he listened with peculiar impatience. He sat with one arm a Kimbo, the other elbow on the table, the hand holding on to the small pipe he was pettishly puffing, his legs crossed, drumming with one foot on the ground, and casting every now and then the side glance of a basilisk at the prosing captain. At length the latter spoke of kids having ascended the Hudson with some of his crew to land his plunder in secrecy. Kid up the Hudson burst forth the seaman with a tremendous oath. Kid was never up the Hudson. I tell you he was said the other. I and they say he buried a quantity of treasure on the little flat that runs out into the river called the Devil's Dan Kammer. The Devil's Dan's Kammer in your teeth cried the seaman. I tell you kid was never up the Hudson. What a plague do you know of Kid and his haunts. What do I know? echoed the half-pay officer. Why, I was in London at the time of his trial. I, and I had the pleasure of seeing him hanged at Execution Dock. Then, sir, let me tell you that you saw as pretty a fellow hanged as ever trod shoe leather. I, putting his face nearer to that of the officer. And there was many a land-lubber looked on that might much better have swung in his stead. The half-pay officer was silenced. But the indignation thus pent up in his bosom glowed with intense vehemence in his single eye, which kindled like a coal. Peachy-praw, who could never remain silent, observed that the gentleman certainly was in the right. Kid never buried money up the Hudson, nor indeed in any of those parts, though many affirmed such to be a fact. It was Braddish and others of the buccaneers who had buried money, some said in Turtle Bay, others on Long Island, others in the neighborhood of Hellgate. Indeed, added he, I recollect an adventure of Sam, the Negro fisherman, many years ago, which something had something to do with the buccaneers. As we are all friends here, and as it will go no further, I'll tell it to you. Upon a dark night many years ago, as Black Sam was returning from fishing in Hellgate, here the story was nipped in the bud by a sudden movement from the unknown, who, laying his iron fist on the table, knuckles downward with a quiet force that indented the very boards, and looking grimly over his shoulder with the grin of an angry bear, herky neighbor, said he, with significant nodding of the head, you'd better let the buccaneers and their money alone. They're not for old men and old women to meddle with. They fought hard for their money, they gave body and soul for it, and wherever it lies buried, depend upon it, he must have a tug with the devil who gets it. This sudden explosion was succeeded by a blank silence throughout the room. Pichy Praugh shrunk within himself, and even the one-eyed officer turned pale. Wolfert, who from a dark corner of the room had listened with intense eagerness to all this talk about buried treasure, looked with mingled awe in reverence at this bold buccaneer, for such he really suspected him to be. There was a chinking of gold and a sparkling of jewels in all his stories about the Spanish Maine that gave of value to every period, and Wolfert would have given anything for the rummaging of the ponderous sea-chest, which his imagination crammed full of golden chalices, crucifixes, and jolly round bags of doubloons. The dead stillness that had fallen upon the company was at length interrupted by the stranger, who pulled out a prodigious watch of curious and ancient workmanship, in which in Wolfert's eyes had a decidedly Spanish look. On touching a spring it struck ten o'clock, upon which the sailor called for his reckoning, and having paid it out of a handful of outlandish coin, he drank off the remainder of his beverage, and without taking leave of anyone, rolled out of the room muttering to himself as he stamped upstairs to his chamber. It was some time before the company could recover from the silence into which they had been thrown. The very footsteps of the stranger, which were heard now and then as he traversed his chamber, inspired awe. Still, the conversation in which they had been engaged was too interesting not to be resumed. A heavy thunder gust had gathered up unnoticed while they were lost in talk, and the torrents of rain that fell forbade all thoughts of setting off for home until the storm should subside. They drew nearer together, therefore, and entreated the worthy peachy praugh to continue the tale which had been so discourteously interrupted. He readily complied, whispering, however, in a tone scarcely above his breath, and drowned occasionally by the rolling of the thunder, and he would pause every now and then, and listen with evident awe as he heard the heavy footsteps of the stranger pacing overhead. The following is the purport of his story.