The treasure-chest of Don Ramirez! Unique and valuable articles!
Here was a chance of salvage after all. I had risen to my feet with the
paper in my hand when my Scotch mate appeared in the doorway.
"I'm thinking all isn't quite as it should be aboard of this ship,
sir," said he. He was a hard-faced man, and yet I could see that he had
been startled.
"What's the matter?"
"Murder's the matter, sir. There's a man here with his brains beaten
out."
"Killed in the storm?" said I.
"May be so, sir, but I'll be surprised if you think so after you have
seen him."
"Where is he, then?"
"This way, sir; here in the maindeck house."
There appeared to have been no accommodation below in the brig, for
there was the after-house for the captain, another by the main hatchway,
with the cook's galley attached to it, and a third in the forecastle for
the men. It was to this middle one that the mate led me. As you
entered, the galley, with its litter of tumbled pots and dishes, was
upon the right, and upon the left was a small room with two bunks for
the officers. Then beyond there was a place about 12ft. square, which
was littered with flags and spare canvas. All round the walls were a
number of packets done up in coarse cloth and carefully lashed to the
woodwork.
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