Chapter Nine
THE BOX FROM THE WRECK
THE first thing that the children did after breakfast was to fetch the precious box and take it out to the tool-shed in the garden. They were simply longing to force it open. All of them secretly felt certain that it would hold treasure of some sort.
Julian looked round for a tool. He found a chisel and decided that would be just the thing to force the box open. He tried, but the tool slipped and jabbed his fingers. Then he tried other things, but the box obstinately refused to open. The children stared at it crossly.
“I know what to do,” said Anne at last. “Let’s take it to the top of the house and throw it down to the ground. It would burst open then, I expect.”
The others thought over the idea. “It might be worth trying,” said Julian. “The only thing is-it might break or spoil anything inside the box.”
But there didn’t seem any other way to open the box, so Julian carried it up to the top of the house. He went to the attic and opened the window there. The others were down below, waiting. Julian hurled the box out of the window as violently as he could. It flew through the air and landed with a terrific crash on the crazy paving below.
At once the french window there opened and their Uncle Quentin came out like a bullet from a gun.
“Whatever are you doing?” he cried. “Surely you aren’t throwing things at each other out of the window? What’s this on the ground?”
The children looked at the box. It had burst open, and lay on the ground, showing a tin lining that was waterproof. Whatever was in the box would not be spoilt! It would be quite dry!
Dick ran to pick it up.
“I said, what’s this on the ground?” shouted his uncle and moved towards him.
“It’s-it’s something that belongs to us,” said Dick, going red.
“Well, I shall take it away from you,” said his uncle. “Disturbing me like this! Give it to me. Where did you get it?”
Nobody answered. Uncle Quentin frowned till his glasses nearly fell off. “Where did you get it?” he barked, glaring at poor Anne, who was nearest.
“Out of the wreck,” stammered the little girl, scared.
“Out of the wreck!” said her uncle, in surprise. “The old wreck that was thrown up yesterday? I heard about that. Do you mean to say you’ve been in it?”
“Yes,” said Dick. Julian joined them at that moment, looking worried. It would be too awful if his uncle took the box just as they got it open. But that was exactly what he did do!
“Well, this box may contain something important,” he said, and he took it from Dick’s hands. “You’ve no right to go prying about in that old wreck. You might take something that mattered.”
“Well, it’s my wreck,” said George, in a defiant tone. “Please, Father, let us have the box. We’d just got it opened. We thought it might hold-a gold bar-or something like that!”
“A gold bar!” said her father, with a snort. “What a baby you are! This small box would never hold a thing like that! It’s much more likely to contain particulars of what happened to the bars! I have always thought that the gold was safely delivered somewhere-and that the ship, empty of its valuable cargo, got wrecked as it left the bay!”
“Oh, Father-please, please let us have our box,” begged George, almost in tears. She suddenly felt certain that it did contain papers that might tell them what had happened to the gold. But without another word her father turned and went into the house, carrying the box, burst open and cracked, its tin lining showing through under his arm.
Anne burst into tears. “Don’t blame me for telling him we got it from the wreck,” she sobbed. “Please don’t. He glared at me so. I just had to tell him.”
“All right, Baby,” said Julian, putting his arm round Anne. He looked furious. He thought it was very unfair of his uncle to take the box like that. “ListenI’m not going to stand this. We’ll get hold of that box somehow and look into it. I’m sure your father won’t bother himself with it, George-he’ll start writing his book again and forget all about it. I’ll wait my chance and slip into his study and get it, even if it means a spanking if I’m discovered!”
“Good!” said George. “We’ll all keep a watch and see if Father goes out.”
So they took it in turns to keep watch, but most annoyingly their Uncle Quentin remained in his study all the morning. Aunt Fanny was surprised to see one or two children always about the garden that day, instead of down on the beach.
“Why don’t you all keep together and bathe or do something?” she said. “Have you quarrelled with one another?”
“No,” said Dick. “Of course not.” But he didn’t say why they were in the garden!
“Doesn’t your father ever go out?” he said to George, when it was her turn to keep watch. “I don’t think he leads a very healthy life.”
“Scientists never do,” said George, as if she knew all about them. “But I tell you what-he may go to sleep this afternoon! He sometimes does!”
Julian was left behind in the garden that afternoon. He sat down under a tree and opened a book. Soon he heard a curious noise that made him look up. He knew at once what it was!
“That’s Uncle Quentin snoring!” he said in excitement. “It is! Oh-I wonder if I could possibly creep in at the french windows and get our box!”
He stole to the windows and looked in. One was a little way open and Julian opened it a little more. He saw his uncle lying back in a comfortable arm-chair, his mouth a little open, his eyes closed, fast asleep! Every time he took a breath, he snored.
“Well, he really does look sound asleep,” thought the boy. “And there’s the box, just behind him, on that table. I’ll risk it. I bet I’ll get an awful spanking if I’m caught, but I can’t help that!”
He stole in. His uncle still snored. He tiptoed by him to the table behind his uncle’s chair. He took hold of the box.
And then a bit of the broken wood of the box fell to the floor with a thud! His uncle stirred in his chair and opened his eyes. Quick as lightning the boy crouched down behind his uncle’s chair, hardly breathing.
“What’s that?” he heard his uncle say. Julian didn’t move. Then his uncle settled down again and shut his eyes. Soon there was the sound of his rhythmic snoring!
“Hurrah!” thought Julian. “He’s off again!”
Quietly he stood up, holding the box. On tiptoe he crept to the French window. He slipped out and ran softly down the garden path. He didn’t think of hiding the box. All he wanted to do was to get to the other children and show them what he had done!
He ran to the beach where the others were lying in the sun. “Hi!” he yelled. “Hi! I’ve got it! I’ve got it!”
They all sat up with a jerk, thrilled to see the box in Julian’s arms. They forgot all about the other people on the beach. Julian dropped down on the sand and grinned.
“Your father went to sleep,” he said to George. “Tim, don’t lick me like that! And George, I went in-and a bit of the box dropped on the floor-and it woke him up!”
“Golly!” said George. “What happened?”
“I crouched down behind his chair till he went to sleep again,” said Julian. “Then I fled. Now-let’s see what’s in here. I don’t believe your father’s even tried to see!”
He hadn’t. The tin lining was intact. It had rusted with the years of lying in the wet, and the lid was so tightly fitted down that it was almost impossible to move it.
But once George began to work at it with her pocket-knife, scraping away the rust, it began to loosen-and in about a quarter-of-an-hour it came off!
The children bent eagerly over it. Inside lay some old papers and a book of some kind with a black cover. Nothing else at all. No bar of gold. No treasure. Everyone felt a little bit disappointed.
“It’s all quite dry,” said Julian, surprised. “Not a bit damp. The tin lining kept everything perfect.”
He picked up the book and opened it. “It’s a diary your great-great-greatgrandfather kept of the ship’s voyages,” he said. “I can hardly read the writing. It’s so small and funny.”
George picked up one of the papers. It was made of thick parchment, quite yellow with age. She spread it out on the sand and looked at it. The others glanced at it too, but they couldn’t make out what it was at all. It seemed to be a kind of map.