“There be worse trades,” said old Adelbert, whose hand was now against every man.
“And hide treasure,” Bobby went on. “In a--in a cave, you know. Did you ever read ‘Treasure Island’?”
“I may have forgotten it. I have read many things.”
‘Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum.’”
Old Adelbert rather doubted the possibility of fifteen men on one dead man’s chest, but he nodded gravely. “A spirited song,” he observed.
Bobby edged closer to the window. “I’ve got the cave already.”
“Here, in the Park. It is a great secret. I’d like to show it to you. Only it’s rather hard to get to. I don’t know whether you’d care to crawl through the bushes to it.”
“I’ll take you, if you’d like to see it.”
Old Adelbert was puzzled. The Park offered, so far as he knew, no place for a cave. It was a plain, the site of the old wall; and now planted in grass and flowers. He himself had seen it graded and sown. A cave!
“That’s a secret. But I’ll show it to you, if you won’t tell.”
Old Adelbert agreed to silence. In fact, he repeated after the boy, in English he did not understand, a most blood-curdling oath of secrecy, and made the pirate sign--which, as every one knows, is a skull and crossbones--in the air with his forefinger.
“This cave,” he said, half smiling, “must be a most momentous matter!”
Until midday, when the Railway opened for business, the old soldier was free. So the next morning, due precautions having been taken, the two conspirators set off. Three, rather, for Tucker, too, was now of the band of the black flag, having been taken in with due formality a day or two before, and behaving well and bravely during the rather trying rites of initiation.
Outside the thicket Bobby hesitated. “I ought to blindfold you,” he said. “But I guess you’ll need your eyes. It’s a hard place to get to.”
Perhaps, had he known the difficulties ahead, old Adelbert would not have gone on. And; had he turned back then, the history of a certain kingdom of Europe would have been changed. Maps, too, and schoolbooks, and the life-story of a small Prince. But he went on. Stronger than his young guide, he did not crawl, but bent aside the stiff and ungainly branches of the firs. He battled with the thicket, and came out victorious.. He was not so old, then, or so feeble. His arm would have been strong for the King, had not-- “There it is!” cried Bobby.