The Collected Fiction of William Hope Hodgson: The Dream Of X & Other Fantastic Visions (49 page)

“Husht, Dan!” said Nancy, at last; not loudly, but with surprising
firmness. “You be proper an’ decent ways wi’ me, Dan, an’ good care I’ll take of’ee, an’ put up wi’ ‘ee, so well as I may, fr owd sake’s sake. But no word at
poor Jimmy, an’ nowt to trouble my maids, or out ye go to the sharks o’
Geddley, an’ clean they’ll pluck ye, as well ye know.”

“An’ well they fear me, an’ well can I mind my own helium!” said the captain warmly; yet unmistakably more civil in his manner, for he felt that if Nancy Garbitt would take him in, then at least he need fear no “traitors in the
camp,” as the saying goes.

“I’m troubled wi’ a sick pain in th’ heart, Nancy, an’ can’t last long,” he
said, after a little pause. “Will I pay ye a gold piece every week-ending, or will
I pay ye nothin’, an’ you have the will of me when I go below?”

“I’ll trade on no man’s death, Dan; an’ least on yours,” said Nancy. “Pay me the guinea-piece each week, an’ well I’ll do by ‘ee as you know, Dan. An’
do ‘ee be easy with drinkin’ an’ ill-livin’, an’ many a year you’m boun’ to live yet.”

And so it was arranged.

“An’ you keep the seven — brats out o’ my course—!” said the cap’n.
“Dan!” said Nancy.

“Pardieu, Nance! No ill to it! No ill to it!” apologised Cap’n Danblasten.
“You’re pretty-lookin’ yet, wi’ the sperret that’s in ye, Nance,” he concluded.
At which complement Nance’s eyes softened a little, so that it was like
enough she had still in a corner of her heart a gentle-feeling towards this uncouth sea-dog of a man, who had been her lover in her youth.

And this way came, and settled, and presently died, Captain Dan
Danblasten, and with his death there arose the seven-year mystery of die
treasure, which to this day may be read in the Records of the Parish of Geddley,
by John Stockman, 1797.

And regarding the length of life still coming to him, Cap’n Danblasten
was right; for he lived no more than some eighteen or nineteen months (date
uncertain) after the arrangement mentioned above. And these are the
concluding details of his life:

For some months he lived quietly enough with Nancy Garbitt, paying
her regularly, and amenable to her tongue, even in his most fantastic fits of humour, whether bred of drink, or of his state of health. Eventually, however,
his little room was broken into one dark night, whilst he slept. But the cap’n
proved conclusively that he was well able to defend both life and fortune; for
he used his pistols, and—later—his cutlass, to such effect that when the
raiders drew off, there lay three dead and one wounded on the floor of his
room, whose groans so irritated Cap’n Danblasten that he went over to him,
and picking up one of their overturned lanterns from the floor, passed his
cutlass twice or thrice through him, to quieten him, remarking as he did so:
“I knew I’d ha’ to fix ‘ee, tunbelly, afore I was done wi’ ye.” (For he recognised
the landlord’s corporation, despite the masks which he and all the robbers
had worn.) “An’ here’s luck—an’ you’m sure goin’ easy.” And he jabbed him,
conscientiously, for the last time.

The direct result of this raid was that Captain Danblasten resolved to
build himself a house that would make him and his treasure secure in future
from an attack of this sort. To this end, he had masons by coach from a great
distance—as distances were counted great on those days—and acting as his own architect, he planned out a strange great house in the form of a ship, in
masonry, with a double tier of iron-barred windows in place of ports, and
three narrow towers, like modern lighthouses, to take the place of masts, with
stairs inside, so that they could be used for lookout posts. There was one
great door in the stern, which was hung on pintles, from the sternpost, like a huge and somewhat abnormally-shaped rudder. Somewhere below this ship-house, there was built a strong room: though this was not known until later; for as soon as the masons had done their work, they were sent back to their
own towns, and in this way the secrets of the house were hidden from the
men of Geddley. It may be as well to say here that this peculiar house, minus
its three towers, which had long since been removed, was to be seen almost intact, as late as 1874. It had become built in, ‘bow-and-stern’ into a terrace
of houses which still form what is known as Big Fortune Terrace, and was
then an inn, run by one Thomas Walker, under the name of The Stone Ship
Inn. . . . “Very much in!” used to be the local and extraordinary witty joke,
according to the New Records of Geddley, which we owe to Richard Stetson, a citizen, I imagine, of that same quaint seaport.

To revert to Cap’n Dan Danblasten, as I have said, he “concluded” his house, and “shipped back” his masons to their varied and distant homes; by this means hiding from the men of Geddley all possible details concerning
the construction of his stronghold.

Presently, he removed, with his two great chests of treasure, to his new house, and thereafter very little of his doings appear to have been worthy of remark; for, saving an odd walk down to Nancy Garbitt’s little cot, or a still rarer visit to the Tunbelly (now under the care of a new landlord), Cap’n
Danblasten, sir, as he was latterly always addressed, appeared but little
beyond his own great rudder-door.

After his removal, he still continued to pay Nancy her guinea per week, and often assured her that when he died, she should own the whole of his
treasure.

And presently, as I have intimated, he died. And certain grave lawyers, if
that be the right term, came all the way from Bristol to read his will; which was quaint, but simple. The whole of his wealth he left to Nancy Garbitt and her seven daughters; the one condition being that they must first find it; one
day in each year being allowed only for the search; and if they had no success
within and including seven years from his death, then the whole of the
treasure, when found, must be handed over entire to a certain person named in the codicil to the will, which was not to be read, save in the event of the gold not being found within the said seven years.

As may be imagined, the sensation which this will provoked was
profound, not only within the Parish of Geddley, but throughout the whole
county, and beyond. Eventually, certain of the masons who had assisted in the building of the Stone Ship House heard of the will, and sent word that
there was a specially built strong room under the foundations of the house, very cunningly hidden, and under it, again, there was a sealed vault. For a
remuneration, one of their number would come by coach, and assist the
locating of the place. This, of course, increased the excitement and general
interest; but it was not until the twenty-seventh day of September of that
year, that the search might be made, between the hours of sunrise and sunset; the Stone Ship House being occupied, meanwhile, by the lawyers’ caretakers,
and seals liberally spread about.

On September 26th, the mason arrived, accompanied by two of his
fellows—the three of them being hired by Nancy Garbitt to act as expert
searchers on their behalf. For, very wisely, she had steadfastly refused the
enormous amount of “free” aid that had been tendered by the men of
Geddley, collectively and singly from day to day.

The 27th dawned; the anniversary, had Nancy but remembered, of that day, so many years gone, when she and young Dan had broken their silver penny. Surely the date was significant!

Nancy Garbitt and her seven daughters and the men of Geddley stood
near the door of the Stone Ship House, with the three masons. As the sun
rose into sight, the lawyer knocked on the door, and the caretakers opened
and stood back for Nancy, her daughters and the three masons to enter. But the men of Geddley had to remain outside, and there waiting, many of them
remained the whole of that livelong day, if we are to believe the worthy John Stockman.

Within the house, the masons went confidently to work; but at the end
of a short time, had to acknowledge themselves bewildered. There had been surely other masons to work, since they had been sent away; or else the grim old sea-dog himself had turned mason in those last months of his life; for no signs of the hidden entrance to the strong room could they discover.

At this, after some little discussion, it was resolved to break down
through the stone-built floor, direct into the strong room, which the masons asserted to be immediately below a certain point which they had ascertained by measurements. Yet, the evening of that day found them labouring, still lacking the whereabouts of the strong room. And presently sunset had put an
end to the search for a year; and Nancy Garbitt and her seven daughters had
to return treasureless to their small cot in the alley.

The
 
second
 
and
 
the
 
third
 
and
 
the
 
fourth
 
years,
 
Nancy and
 
her
daughters returned, likewise lacking in treasure; but in the fifth year, it was
evident to Nancy and her maidens that they had come upon signs of the long
lost strong room. Yet the sunset of the “day of grace” cut short their delving,
before they could prove their belief.

Followed a year of tense excitement and conjecture, in which Nancy could have married off her daughters to the pick of the men of Geddley; for
to every sanguine male it was apparent that the treasure was almost in sight.

Some suggestion there was of carrying the Stone Ship House by assault,
and prosecuting the search to its inevitable end without further ridiculous delay; but this Nancy would not listen to. Moreover, the strength of the
building, and the constant presence of the armed legal guardians thereof
forbad any hope of success along these lines.

In the sixth year Nancy Garbitt died, just before sunset on the day of the
search. Her death was possibly due, in part at least, to the long continued
excitement, and the nearing of the hour when the search must be delayed for
another whole year. Her death ended the search for that time; though a
portion of the actual built-in door of the strong room itself had been un
covered. Yet, already, as I have said, it had been close to the time when the
search must cease.

When the twenty-seventh day of September in the seventh year arrived,
the men of Geddley made a holiday, and accompanied the seven Misses
Garbitts with a band to the door of the Stone Ship House. By midday the
door of the long-shut strong room was uncovered, and a key the lawyer produced was found to fit. The door was unlocked, and the seven maidens rushed in—to emptiness.

Yet, after the first moment of despair, someone remembered the sealed
vault which lay under the strong room. A search was made, and the covering stone found; but it proved an intractable stone, and sunset was nigh before it
was removed. A candle was lowered into the vault and a small chest
discovered; otherwise the vault was as empty as the strong room.

The box was brought out into the light and broken open. Inside was found nothing but the half of a broken silver penny.

At that moment, watch in hand, the lawyer decreed that the hour of sunset had arrived, and motioned for silence where was already the silence of despair. He drew from his pocket the package that held the codicil, broke the
seal, and proceeded to read to the seven maidens its contents. They were brief
and startling and extraordinary in the revelation of the perversity of the old
sea-dog’s warped and odd nature. The codicil revealed that the gold for
which they had so long searched was still left to Nancy; but that it lay under the stone flags of their own living-room, where the captain had buried it at nights, all the long years gone when he had lived at Nancy’s, storing the removed earth in the chests in place of the gold.

“Seven children have you had, Nancy Drigg, to that top-o’-my-thumb,
Jimmy Garbitt,” the codicil concluded, “and seven years shall you wait—you
that could not wait!”

That is all. The money went to the children of Nancy Garbitt; for by the
whimsy of Fate, the woman for whose reproval all this had been planned was
never to learn, and the bitter taunt of the broken silver penny was never to
reach its mark; for Nancy, as you know, was dead. And so ended the seven
years’ search. And likewise this history of the strange and persistent love affair of Captain Dan Danblasten, sea-dog and pirate.