<p>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 Bi-chloride 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 trelliswork over the
whole. 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. As the rays of the lanterns fell within the pit, there flashed
upwards a glow and a glare, from a confused heap of gold and of jewels,
that absolutely dazzled our eyes.</p>
<p>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 nature of things, for any negro's
visage to assume. He seemed stupified—thunderstricken. Presently he
fell upon his knees in the pit, and, burying his naked arms up to the
elbows in gold, let them there remain, as if enjoying the luxury of a
bath. At length, with a deep sigh, he exclaimed, as if in a soliloquy,</p>
<p>"And dis all cum ob de goole-bug! de putty goole bug! de poor little
goole-bug, what I boosed in dat sabage kind ob style! Aint you shamed ob
yourself, nigger?—answer me dat!"</p>
<p>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 every thing 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, lightened the box by removing two thirds of its contents, when we
were enabled, with some trouble, to raise it from the 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 pretence, 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, at one o'clock in the morning. Worn 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 burthens,
just as the first faint streaks of the dawn gleamed from over the
tree-tops in the East.</p>
<p>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 preconcert, to make examination of our
treasure.</p>
<p>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. Every thing 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 worn 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 censers of great value;—a prodigious golden punch bowl,
ornamented with richly chased vine-leaves and Bacchanalian 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 avoirdupois; 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 jewelled 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 excitement of the time had, in
some measure, subsided, Legrand, 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.</p>
<p>"You remember;" said he, "the night when I handed you the rough sketch I
had made of the scarab�us. 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."</p>
<p>"The scrap of paper, you mean," said I.</p>
<p>"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, at 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 the scarab�us, and that
this skull, not only in outline, but in size, should so closely resemble
my drawing. I say the singularity of this coincidence absolutely stupified
me for a time. This is the usual effect of such coincidences. The mind
struggles to establish a connexion—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 scarab�us. 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 glow-worm-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 farther reflection
until I should be alone.</p>
<p>"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 scarabaeus was on the coast of the main
land, about a mile eastward of the island, and but a short distance above
high water mark. 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 towards 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
long boat. The wreck seemed to have been there for a very great while; for
the resemblance to boat timbers could scarcely be traced.</p>
<p>"Well, 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.</p>
<p>"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 detail the
precise mode in which it came into my possession; for the circumstances
impressed me with peculiar force.</p>
<p>"No doubt you will think me fanciful—but I had already established a
kind of connexion. 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 connexion?' I reply that the skull, or
death's-head, is the well-known emblem of the pirate. The flag of the
death's head is hoisted in all engagements.</p>
<p>"I have said that the scrap was parchment, and not paper. Parchment is
durable—almost imperishable. Matters of little moment 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, by some accident, destroyed, it could be seen that
the original form was oblong. It was just such a slip, indeed, as might
have been chosen for a memorandum—for a record of something to be
long remembered and carefully preserved."</p>
<p>"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
connexion 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 scarab�us?"</p>
<p>"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 scarab�us, 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.</p>
<p>"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 hand, and as you were
in the act of inspecting it, Wolf, the Newfoundland, 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.
Zaffre, digested in aqua regia, and diluted with four times its weight of
water, is sometimes employed; a green tint results. The regulus of cobalt,
dissolved in spirit of nitre, gives a red. These colors disappear at
longer or shorter intervals after the material written upon cools, but
again become apparent upon the re-application of heat.</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>"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 especial connexion between your pirates and a goat—pirates,
you know, have nothing to do with goats; they appertain to the farming
interest."</p>
<p>"But I have just said that the figure was not that of a goat."</p>
<p>"Well, a kid then—pretty much the same thing."</p>
<p>"Pretty much, but not altogether," said Legrand. "You may have heard of
one Captain Kidd. 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 this 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 sorely put out by the absence of all else—of the
body to my imagined instrument—of the text for my context."</p>
<p>"I presume you expected to find a letter between the stamp and the
signature."</p>
<p>"Something of that kind. The fact is, I felt irresistibly impressed with a
presentiment of some vast good fortune impending. 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 coincidences—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?"</p>
<p>"But proceed—I am all impatience."</p>
<p>"Well; you have heard, of course, the many stories current—the
thousand vague rumors afloat about money buried, somewhere upon the
Atlantic coast, by Kidd 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 Kidd
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, 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 treasure had been concealed at
all, and who, 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?"</p>
<p>"Never."</p>
<p>"But that Kidd'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."</p>
<p>"But how did you proceed?"</p>
<p>"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 downwards, 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 whole was just as you see it now." Here Legrand, having
re-heated the parchment, submitted it to my inspection. The following
characters were rudely traced, in a red tint, between the death's-head and
the goat:</p>
<p>"53���305))6*;4826)4�)4�);806*;48�8�60))85;1�);:�<br/>
*8�83(88)5*�;46(;88*96*?;8)*�(;485);5*�2:*�(;4956*<br/>
2(5*--4)8�8*;4069285);)6�8)4��;1(�9;48081;8:8�1;4<br/>
8�85;4)485�528806*81(�9;48;(88;4(�?34;48)4�;161;:<br/>
188;�?;"<br/></p>
<p>"But," said I, returning him the slip, "I am as much in the dark as ever.
Were 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."</p>
<p>"And yet," said Legrand, "the solution is by no means so difficult as you
might be lead 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 Kidd, I could not suppose him capable of constructing any of the
more abstruse 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 insoluble without the key."</p>
<p>"And you really solved it?"</p>
<p>"Readily; I have solved others of an abstruseness ten thousand times
greater. Circumstances, and a certain bias of mind, 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 import.</p>
<p>"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 the 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 'Kidd' 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.</p>
<p>"You observe there are no divisions between the words. Had there been
divisions, the task would have been comparatively easy. In such case I
should have commenced with a collation and 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 assured. 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:</p>
<p>Of the character 8 there are 33.</p>
<p>; " 26.<br/>
4 " 19.<br/>
� ) " 16.<br/>
* " 13.<br/>
5 " 12.<br/>
6 " 11.<br/>
� 1 " 8.<br/>
0 " 6.<br/>
9 2 " 5.<br/>
: 3 " 4.<br/>
? " 3.<br/>
� " 2.<br/>
-. " 1.<br/></p>
<p>"Now, in English, the letter which most frequently occurs is e.
Afterwards, succession runs thus: <i>a o i d h n r s t u y c f g l m w b k
p q x z</i>. <i>E</i> predominates so remarkably that an individual
sentence of any length is rarely seen, in which it is not the prevailing
character.</p>
<p>"Here, then, we leave, in the very beginning, the groundwork for something
more than a mere guess. 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 8, we will commence by
assuming it as the <i>e</i> of the natural alphabet. To verify the
supposition, let us observe if the 8 be seen often in couples—for <i>e</i>
is doubled with great frequency in English—in such words, for
example, as 'meet,' '.fleet,' 'speed,' 'seen,' been,' 'agree,' &c. In
the present instance we see it doubled no less than five times, although
the cryptograph is brief.</p>
<p>"Let us assume 8, then, as <i>e</i>. Now, of all <i>words</i> in the
language, 'the' is 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 8. 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;48. We may, therefore, assume that; represents <i>t</i>, 4
represents <i>h</i>, and 8 represents <i>e</i>—the last being now
well confirmed. Thus a great step has been taken.</p>
<p>"But, having established a single word, we are enabled 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;48 occurs—not far from
the end of the cipher. We know that the; 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—</p>
<p>t eeth.</p>
<p>"Here we are enabled, at once, to discard the 'th,' as forming no portion
of the word commencing with the first t; since, by experiment of the
entire alphabet for a letter adapted to the vacancy, we perceive that no
word can be formed of which this <i>th</i> can be a part. We are thus
narrowed into</p>
<p>t ee,</p>
<p>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, <i>r</i>,
represented by (, with the words 'the tree' in juxtaposition.</p>
<p>"Looking beyond these words, for a short distance, we again see the
combination;48, and employ it by way of <i>termination</i> to what
immediately precedes. We have thus this arrangement:</p>
<p>the tree;4(�?34 the,</p>
<p>or, substituting the natural letters, where known, it reads thus:</p>
<p>the tree thr�?3h the.</p>
<p>"Now, if, in place of the unknown characters, we leave blank spaces, or
substitute dots, we read thus:</p>
<p>the tree thr...h the,</p>
<p>when the word '<i>through</i>' makes itself evident at once. But this
discovery gives us three new letters, <i>o</i>, <i>u</i> and <i>g</i>,
represented by �? and 3.</p>
<p>"Looking now, narrowly, through the cipher for combinations of known
characters, we find, not very far from the beginning, this arrangement,</p>
<p>83(88, or egree,</p>
<p>which, plainly, is the conclusion of the word 'degree,' and gives us
another letter, <i>d</i>, represented by �.</p>
<p>"Four letters beyond the word 'degree,' we perceive the combination</p>
<p>;46(;88.</p>
<p>"Translating the known characters, and representing the unknown by dots,
as before, we read thus: th rtee. an arrangement immediately suggestive of
the word 'thirteen,' and again furnishing us with two new characters, <i>i</i>
and <i>n</i>, represented by 6 and *.</p>
<p>"Referring, now, to the beginning of the cryptograph, we find the
combination,</p>
<p>53���.</p>
<p>"Translating, as before, we obtain</p>
<p>good,</p>
<p>which assures us that the first letter is <i>A</i>, and that the first two
words are 'A good.'</p>
<p>"It is now time that we arrange our key, as far as discovered, in a
tabular form, to avoid confusion. It will stand thus:</p>
<p>5 represents a<br/>
� " d<br/>
8 " e<br/>
3 " g<br/>
4 " h<br/>
6 " i<br/>
* " n<br/>
� " o<br/>
( " r<br/>
; " t<br/></p>
<p>"We have, therefore, no less than ten 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:</p>
<p>"'<i>A good glass in the bishop's hostel in the devil's seat forty-one
degrees and thirteen minutes northeast and by north main branch seventh
limb east side shoot from the left eye of the death's-head a bee line from
the tree through the shot fifty feet out</i>.'"</p>
<p>"But," said I, "the enigma seems still in as bad a condition as ever. How
is it possible to extort a meaning from all this jargon about 'devil's
seats,' 'death's heads,' and 'bishop's hotels?'"</p>
<p>"I confess," replied Legrand, "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."</p>
<p>"You mean, to punctuate it?"</p>
<p>"Something of that kind."</p>
<p>"But how was it possible to effect this?"</p>
<p>"I reflected that it had been a point with the writer to run his words
together without division, so as to increase the difficulty of solution.
Now, a not over-acute 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—forty-one degrees and
thirteen minutes—northeast and by north—main branch seventh
limb east side—shoot from the left eye of the death's-head—a
bee-line from the tree through the shot fifty feet out.'"</p>
<p>"Even this division," said I, "leaves me still in the dark."</p>
<p>"It left me also in the dark," replied Legrand, "for a few days; during
which I made diligent inquiry, in the neighborhood of Sullivan's Island,
for any building which went by the 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 Bessop, which, time out of
mind, had held possession of an ancient manor-house, about four miles to
the northward of the Island. I accordingly went over to the plantation,
and re-instituted 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 Bessop'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.</p>
<p>"I offered to pay her well for her trouble, and, after some demur, 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 clambered to its apex, and then felt
much at a loss as to what should be next done.</p>
<p>"While I was busied 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 eighteen inches, and was not more than a
foot wide, while a niche in the cliff just above it, gave it 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 seemed to grasp the full secret of the riddle.</p>
<p>"The 'good glass,' I knew, could have reference to nothing but a
telescope; for the word 'glass' is rarely employed in any other sense by
seamen. Now 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, "forty-one degrees and
thirteen minutes,' and 'northeast and by north,' were intended as
directions for the levelling of the glass. Greatly excited by these
discoveries, I hurried home, procured a telescope, and returned to the
rock.</p>
<p>"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 'forty-one degrees and thirteen 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 forty-one 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 centre 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.</p>
<p>"Upon this discovery I was so sanguine as to consider the enigma solved;
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 bee-line, or, in other
words, a straight line, drawn from the nearest point of the trunk through
'the shot,' (or the spot where the bullet fell,) and thence extended to a
distance of fifty feet, would indicate a definite point—and beneath
this point I thought it at least possible that a deposit of value lay
concealed."</p>
<p>"All this," I said, "is exceedingly clear, and, although ingenious, still
simple and explicit. When you left the Bishop's Hotel, what then?"</p>
<p>"Why, having carefully taken the bearings of the tree, I turned homewards.
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.</p>
<p>"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 especial 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 believe you are as well acquainted as myself."</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>"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 moment; 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, threw us quite off the scent. But for my deep-seated impressions
that treasure was here somewhere actually buried, we might have had all
our labor in vain."</p>
<p>"But your grandiloquence, 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?"</p>
<p>"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 it from the tree. An observation
of yours about its great weight suggested the latter idea."</p>
<p>"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?"</p>
<p>"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 Kidd—if Kidd 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
mattock were sufficient, while his coadjutors were busy in the pit;
perhaps it required a dozen—who shall tell?"</p>
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