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Updated: June 3, 2025
I suppose it was these sounds that awakened the galleon's crew, for while the carpenter was still hacking away there arose from the interior of the fore-scuttle a loud knocking, and the muffled sounds of voices angrily demanding that the hatch should be lifted.
The men went to work cheerily; easily divining my motive for transhipping the treasure, and being, of course, each in his own degree, as anxious for its safety as I was. Moreover, the galleon's launch was a fine big lump of a boat; so we managed to tranship the whole and get it safely stowed away before sundown.
He felt that their eyes were upon him as he took the letter up and he also felt that in Alice Galleon's gaze there was a wise and tender understanding of the things that he must be feeling. The roughness of the envelope, the rudeness of the hand-writing, a stain in one corner that might be beer, the stamp set crookedly these things seemed to him like so many voices that called him back.
He then sailed for Valparaiso, hoping to meet Winter there, as he had arranged. At Valparaiso there was no Winter, but there was in the port instead a great galleon just come in from Peru. The galleon's crew took him for a Spaniard, hoisted their colours, and beat their drums. The Pelican shot alongside. The English sailors in high spirits leapt on board.
The galleon's waist was often without bulwarks, so that when she went into action it became necessary to give her sail trimmers, and spar-deck fighting men, some protection from the enemy's shot. Sometimes this was done by the hauling up of waist-trees, or spars of rough untrimmed timber, to form a sort of wooden wall.
It was many long years since they had been men, and it was a dozen or more grinning skeletons in time-tattered garments that gazed over the galleon's faded side at the lone castaway in his cockle-shell.
This time the piece was aimed to hit, and it did so, piercing the galleon's larboard poop bulwark and passing so close to George's head that he distinctly felt the wind of it, while a big splinter from the bulwark not only knocked off his steel headpiece, but also scored his scalp so shrewdly that in a moment he was almost blinded by the blood that streamed down into his eyes.
Henry Galleon drew Peter into his own especial quarters and soon they were sitting in a lofty library, its walls covered with books that stretched to the ceiling. Peter meanwhile buried in a huge arm-chair and feeling that Henry Galleon's eyes were piercing him through and through.
Ten seconds later, every man on the galleon's decks, from George downward, was shouting the fine old song at the top of his voice, the melody going far out over the water and causing the haughty Dons on the galley's poop to stare in amazement. Almost at the same instant the galley's culverin spoke again.
But if you'll listen for five minutes, down here at the Bull- and-Daisy, there shall be peace between us." An hour later, Phips, following Bucklaw's instructions, is tracing on a map the true location of the lost galleon's treasure. "Then," says Bucklaw, "we are comrades?" "We are adventurers." Another scene.
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