Then Tarboe brought the Ninety-Nine close to the wreck, and with his
little cannon put a ball into her. This was the finish. She shook her
nose, shivered, shot down like a duck, and was gone.
Mr. Martin was sad even to tears.
"Now, my beauties," said Tarboe, "now that I've got you safe, I'll show
you the kind of cargo I've got." A moment afterwards he hoisted a keg on
deck. "Think that's whisky?" he asked. "Lift it, Mr. Martin." Mr.
Martin obeyed. "Shake it," he added.
Mr. Martin did so. "Open it, Mr. Martin." He held out a hatchet-hammer.
The next moment a mass of gold pieces yellowed to their eyes. Mr. Martin
fell back, breathing hard.
"Is that contraband, Mr. Martin?"
"Treasure-trove," humbly answered the stricken officer.
"That's it, and in a month, Mr. Martin, I'll be asking the chief of your
department to dinner."
Meanwhile Lafarge saw how near he had been to losing a wife and a
fortune. Arrived off Isle of Day; Tarboe told Mr. Martin and his men
that if they said "treasure-trove" till they left the island their live
would not be worth "a tinker's damn." When the had sworn, he took them
to Angel Point, fed then royally, gave them excellent liquor to drink,
and sent them in a fishing-smack with Bissonnette to Quebec where,
arriving, they told strange tales.
Bissonnette bore a letter to a certain banker in Quebec, who already had
done business with Tarboe, and next midnight Tarboe himself, with Gobal,
Lafarge, Bissonnette, and another, came knocking at the banker's door,
each carrying a keg on his shoulder and armed to the teeth.
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