The Tickencote Treasure
saw!” gasped one of the men with scared face. “I’ve had about enough of this, mates. It ain’t no place for us here.”

I stood listening. There was undoubtedly yet another mystery on board that strange, uncanny vessel that the sea had so unaccountably given up.

CHAPTER III THE MYSTERIOUS MAN

THE MYSTERIOUS MAN

THE MYSTERIOUS MAN

Again the strange deep voice sounded.

Again

It seemed to come from below the small cabin in which we stood—a snarling noise as though of a man enraged.

Neither Seal nor his men liked the situation. I could see by their faces that they were thoroughly scared. They had found gold, it was true, but below was the owner of it.

“Come on, lads,” urged Dicky Dunn courageously, “I’m going below to make the acquaintance of the skipper of this ’ere craft. The way is down that hatchway at the end of the big saloon.”

Encouraged by the old seaman the men moved back into the cabin we had first entered, and with Dunn I descended the dark stairs to explore, Seal following close behind us armed with his revolver.

I struck a match and, by its light, saw a quantity of ancient arms and armour lying with several skulls and bones. Apparently the men were below when the ship went down, and, the hatches being closed so tightly, neither air nor water reached them, so that they had been asphyxiated.

The passage led along to a bulkhead, where it took a turn at right angles and ended with a closed door.

This Seal opened boldly, and we found ourselves in a small cabin, quite light—for the big square window had been broken out—and furnished in the same antique style as the big saloon above.

It had an occupant—the strangest-looking creature I ever saw.

He was an old man with long white hair and white beard, a man with a thin, haggard face and black, deep-sunken eyes. On first entering he escaped our notice, but we saw him crouching beneath the table, hiding from us in terror.


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