The crew got the gold on board the boats, and, after several journeys, had the boxes piled on the deck of the submarine.
When they had placed the boxes on board they again retired, and one of the men of the submarine, who seemed to be in command, and wore a mask, coolly weighed the glittering metal on the deck, returning each package, after weighing and inspection, to its coffer. The process was long and tedious; at length it was completed.
Then at last the form of Miss Macrae, in an elegant and tasteful yachting costume, appeared on the deck of the submarine. The boat"s crew of the _Flora Macdonald_ (to whom she was endeared) lifted their oars and cheered. The masked pirate in command handed her into a boat of the _Flora"s_ with stately courtesy, placing in her hand a bouquet of the rarest orchids. He then placed his hand on his heart, and bowed with a grace remarkable in one of his trade. This man was no common desperado.
The crew pulled off, and at that moment, to the horror of all who were on the _Flora"s_ deck, two slight jars again thrilled through her from stem to stern.
Mr. Macrae and Bude gazed on each other with ashen faces. What had occurred? But still the boat"s crew pulled gallantly towards the _Flora_, and, in a few moments, Miss Macrae stepped on deck, and was in her father"s arms. It was a scene over which art cannot linger. Self- restraint was thrown to the winds; the father and child acted as if no eyes were regarding them. Miss Macrae sobbed convulsively, her sire was shaken by long-pent emotion. Bude had averted his gaze, he looked towards the submarine, on the deck of which the crew were busy, beginning to lower the bullion into the interior.
To Bude"s extreme and speechless amazement, another periscope arose from ocean at about fifty yards from the further side of the submarine! Bude spoke no word; the father and daughter were absorbed in each other; the crew had no eyes but for them.
Presently, unmarked by the busy seamen of the hostile submarine, the platform and look-out hood of _another_ submarine appeared. The new boat seemed to be pointing directly for the middle of the hostile submarine and at right angles to it.
"_Hands up_!" pealed a voice from the second submarine.
It was the voice of Merton!
At the well-known sound Miss Macrae tore herself from her father"s embrace and hurried below. She deemed that a fond illusion of the senses had beguiled her.
Mr. Macrae looked wildly towards the two submarines.
The masked captain of the hostile vessel, leaping up, shook his fist at the _Flora Macdonald_ and yelled, "d.a.m.n your foolish treachery, you money- grubbing hunks! You _have_ a consort."
"I a.s.sure you that n.o.body is more surprised than myself," cried Mr.
Macrae.
"One minute more and you, your ship, and your crew will be sent to your own place!" yelled the masked captain.
He vanished below, doubtless to explode the mines under the _Flora_.
Bude crossed himself; Mr. Macrae, folding his arms, stood calm and defiant on his deck. One sailor (the cook) leaped overboard in terror, the others hastily drew themselves up in a double line, to die like Britons.
A minute pa.s.sed, a minute charged with terror. Mr. Macrae took out his watch to mark the time. Another minute pa.s.sed, and no explosion.
The captain of the pirate vessel reappeared on her deck. He cast his hands desperately abroad; his curses, happily, were unheard by Miss Macrae, who was below.
"Hands up!" again rang out the voice of Merton, adding, "if you begin to submerge your craft, if she stirs an inch, I send you skyward at least as a preliminary measure. My diver has detached your mines from the keel of the _Flora Macdonald_ and has cut the wires leading to them; my bow-tube is pointing directly for you, if I press the switch the torpedo must go home, and then heaven have mercy on your souls!"
A crow of laughter arose from the yachtsmen of the _Flora Macdonald_, who freely launched terms of maritime contempt at the crew of the pirate submarine, with comments on the probable future of the souls to which Merton had alluded.
On his desk the masked captain stood silent. "We have women on board!"
he answered Merton at last.
"You may lower them in a collapsible boat, if you have one," answered Merton. "But, on the faintest suspicion of treachery--the faintest surmise, mark you, I switch on my torpedo."
"What are your terms?" asked the pirate captain.
"The return of the bullion, that is all," replied the voice of Merton. "I give you two minutes to decide."
Before a minute and a half had pa.s.sed the masked captain had capitulated.
"I climb down," he said.
"The boats of the _Flora_ will come for it," said Merton; "your men will help load it in the boats. Look sharp, and be civil, or I blow you out of the water!"
The pirates had no choice; rapidly, if sullenly, they effected the transfer.
When all was done, when the coffers had been hoisted aboard the _Flora Macdonald_, Merton, for the first time, hailed the yacht.
"Will you kindly send a boat round here for me, Mr. Macrae, if you do not object to my joining you on the return voyage?"
Mr. Macrae shouted a welcome, the yacht"s crew cheered as only Britons can. Mr. Macrae"s piper struck up the march of the clan, "_A" the wild McCraws are coming_!"
"If any of you scoundrels shoot," cried Merton to his enemies, "up you will all go. You shall stay here, after we depart, in front of that torpedo, just as long as the skipper of my vessel pleases."
Meanwhile the boat of the _Flora_ approached the friendly submarine; Merton stepped aboard, and soon was on the deck of the _Flora Macdonald_.
Mr. Macrae welcomed him with all the joy of a father re-united to his daughter, of a capitalist restored to his millions.
Bude shook Merton"s hand warmly, exclaiming, "Well played, old boy!"
Merton"s eyes eagerly searched the deck for one beloved form. Mr. Macrae drew him aside. "Emmeline is below," he whispered; "you will find her in the saloon." Merton looked steadfastly at the millionaire, who smiled with unmistakable meaning. The lover hurried down the companion, while the _Flora_, which had rapidly got up steam, sped eastward.
Merton entered the saloon, his heart beating as hard as when he had sought his beloved among the bracken beneath the cliffs at Castle Skrae.
She rose at his entrance; their eyes met, Merton"s dim with a supreme doubt, Emmeline"s frank and clear. A blush rose divinely over the white rose of her face, her lips curved in the resistless AEginetan smile, and, without a word spoken, the twain were in each other"s arms.
Half an hour later Mr. Macrae, heralding his arrival with a sonorous hem!
entered the saloon. Smiling, he embraced his daughter, who hid her head on his ample shoulder, while with his right hand the father grasped that of Merton.
"My daughter is restored to me--and my son," said the millionaire softly.
There was silence. Mr. Macrae was the first to recover his self-possession. "Sit down, dear," he said, gently disengaging Emmeline, "and tell me all about it. Who were the wretches? I can forgive them now."
Miss Macrae"s eyes were bent on the carpet; she seemed reluctant to speak. At last, in timid and faltering accents, she whispered, "It was the Van Huytens boy."
"Rudolph Van Huytens! I might have guessed it," cried the millionaire.
"His motive is too plain! His wealth did not equal mine by several millions. The ransom which he demanded, and but for Tom here" (he indicated Merton) "would now possess, exactly reversed our relative positions. Carrying on his father"s ambition, he would, but for Tom, have held the world"s record for opulence. The villain!"
"You do not flatter _me_, father," said Miss Macrae, "and you are unjust to Mr. Van Huytens. He had another, _he_ said a stronger, motive. Me!"
she murmured, blushing like a red rose, and adding, "he really was rather nice. The submarine was comfy; the yacht delightful. His sisters and his aunt were very kind. But--" and the beautiful girl looked up archly and shyly at Merton.
"In fact if it had not been for Tom," Mr. Macrae was exclaiming, when Emmeline laid her lily hand on his lips, and again hid her burning blushes on his shoulder.
"So Rudolph had no chance?" asked Mr. Macrae gaily.
"I used rather to like him, long ago--before--" murmured Emmeline.
A thrill of happy pride pa.s.sed through Merton. He also, he remembered of old, had thought that he loved. But now he privately registered an oath that he would never make any confessions as to the buried past (a course which the chronicler earnestly recommends to young readers).