Or salted cod. But what joy in life then if I eat only his dried beans and pickled beetroot. I have been blessed in this life with 65 years, a good wife and fine teeth. I have many of them still. My children are well married and have prospered. Bess and the boys are in service in fine homes and this warms me for their future is secure.
But Portia has excelled. Portia was always dark of eye and sharp of wit and in many ways oft brings to my mind a picture of her brother Jim. And my partnership with Ned has been successful. The catch has been strong these many years and we have prospered. Ned now sails three dories and I four. Our incomes and the wellbeing of our families have been well served. And I am further blessed with 12 beautiful grandchildren. I cannot describe the lightness that these tiny beings bring to my heart.
I feel at times that my chest is fit to burst when I hold them close. I have not seen them this past monthe and would dearly wish to see them again before I go. Good Purthaph has visited me this last week and Ned and Rohan too.
They are not the strong men they once were but their eyes are bright as before. I oft think how strange it is that the body and face I now have do hide the mind and soul of the boy I once was. My one regret is that we found naught in our search for Jim and the gold. Even now, many years hence, Looe has not school nor teacher. And we did search, for many a year. The gout and the flux will take me soon I think, though physician Peck says I am strong and will leave my bed before spring.
My bones say otherwise. I am tired now and must sleep. Perhaps I will meet my boy. We were all silent for a while, even George. Why Leslie be keeping his teeth too, when many a folk was gone to the physician for to have their rotten teeth pulled. So, Leslie, he was a goodly age and enjoyed right fine health for most of his life it would seem. It was a relief to know that Leslie had a good life in spite of the hardships.
But we knew that nothing could really make up for the loss of his boy. Go back to that bit and look at it again. What does that mean? It might be our best chance of finding the gold. And we did. The map! Where was it?
And what did it look like? It was old, obviously, more than two hundred years, so maybe it had fallen apart by now. Anything could destroy it, water, insects, even people.
What a bummer that would be. And what secrets did the map hold? Did Rohan have a journal? Or was that too obvious? We were stumped. Where did we go from here? Was this the end of our quest? We need to be systematic! Remember what Mrs. Mahoney said. We need to listen to her.
That means we start at the start — and we do a thorough job. Please, no more searching. But Dad was relentless. We cast our net too wide today. Unusual maybe, but not impossible to follow. Rohan must have died within ten to fifteen years of Leslie at a rough guess.
That should be our starting point. Despite the gloomy warnings of Barney and Amos, we were learning that Mrs. While we arranged ourselves around the table, Dad went over to Mrs. Mahoney was pleased to point out the old registers. They run from up to when all the BDM s went to Polperro. Most of the registers relate to the years when Looe was booming, between and The registers were in year order and there were dozens.
Lots for the years to , at least six per year, dwindling to one per year by about From on each register seemed to contain about 5 years of entries. From what we had learned, this pattern seemed to follow the fortunes of Looe pretty closely.
Many people had left the town. We were pretty sure that Rohan had outlived Leslie, so we started our search in the year Leslie died, , with each of us taking a consecutive year. I ended up with The registers were large and very heavy. They were all bound in rough and battered leather, dark brown in colour, with embossed gold lettering. Each register was about 2 inches thick and contained about pages. Each page had six entries, three on each side. That sure was a lot of BDM s.
All the entries were in date order followed by a surname, so they were easy to read. Though all the entries were handwritten I was able to scan each page quickly. I stopped and stared again at the names. Cruz, Nunes, De La Hoya! And all had the same date. All hands were lost. Lost in a storm, just like Jim Herriott.
They were only a few years older than us and yet they were sailing the high seas, braving wild storms and wide oceans. Just to catch fish. And so far from home. I wondered what sort of life they had. When I finished the register I switched to a new one. Again, there were so many entries. The entries rolled on. I stopped and ran my finger back up the page.
April 6, Venables, Rohan. Passed from this life on the 23rd day of March, Taken by a severe inflammation of the lung. Signed: Albert Ronald Venables. My eyes were getting tired and it would have been easy to miss it. I read it quickly. Rohan had died in , eight years after Leslie. George was so pleased that she slammed her register shut with a huge bang.
Dust flew in the air and Mrs. Mahoney nearly went airborne. We knew where to start now and fanned out quickly on the row of journals covering the years from onwards. But it was another hour before Max spun round holding a thick dark book.
We were running out of credits with Mrs. Mahoney at a great rate. As it turned out we had been nearly spot on with our thinking. But Max had found the journal in the section.
Dad quickly examined the thick, dark book. It starts in , when Rohan was 17, and the last entry is just after New Year in , about two months or so before he died. I guess his wife finished the journal and then forgot about it for a couple of years. Or maybe one of his kids found it and put it in the library. The entry was brief and ominous. We have been successful in our endeavours to this day. Our money saved is substantial but is not sufficient for the needs of both books and teaching.
Leslie is keen to run to the French but one last time, on this very night. He feels that our earnings on the run will see us free to achieve our ends. But I am fraught with worry. The glass is low this last week and I feel a knyffe in the wind. There is a fyne storm brewing and I think we must treade with care. If another monthe was to pass before we had sufficient then it would little hurt us.
Rohan had been worried. He could see that there was a storm brewing but obviously could not contain the others. And, as we knew, disaster followed. We turned to the next entry. My fears have come to pass. We sent forth five dories this evening past and but three returned. The storm did come, as I afeared, and it was worse than could be imagined. The tragedy for the village cannot be fathomed with four souls lost. And it is as a spear through my heart that I must write that young Jim Herriott is also lost.
My grief is so great for young Jim and for my good friend Leslie, his wife Elizabeth and their family, that it strips the strength from my fingers that I can scarce write. This has been a fearful day and many will be the year to pass, I think, before we again feel joy and contentment in our breast. No wonder the legend had lived on, passed down from generation to generation. It was a pretty bad night all round back in December One that they could never, and would never, forget.
Dad skimmed through the journal. These journals are amazing. Thanks be to the Lord for my continuing good health and the well being and good fortune of my family. Emily, my fine daughter, has this day journeyed to London.
She will reside not far from Miss Jawali Kaur, the daughter of my good friend Purtaph. I trust that they will strive to meet, for our families are close and I would not wish to see us lose our friendship. This past week I have been joined in the dory by my other good friend Leslie. Both he and Elizabeth grieve still for the loss of Jim but it brightens my heart to see them returning to colour and strength. I believe that this last eventide I have seen these things, and it all but froze my heart with fear when I first did see them.
The story be told thus. As it was a fine day with good sea and wind, and the water clear, I judged it to be a day for fish, and so I set forth in the mid afternoon on December 6, to fish off Point Perdition. My catch was steady, for the whelks of Blind Bluff are fat and the fish found my bait to their taste.
My anchor was firm set and though the sea and wind both freshened I was able to fish beyond eventide. Though now full darkling and the beacon bright on Long Nose Point, still the fish came. At first I thought a beacon had been set, and I wondered at the brave or foolish soul who would venture so near the Maw. For even now the seas and the wind grew firm and the Maw was ever ready to strike.
But I then saw that the light did move about upon the rocks, as if it searched. To better view the light I grew careless and allowed the dory to move with the sea close unto the Maw. And as it stopped, it turned, and while I could see no feature to its face, neither eye nor nose, still I knew that it stared upon me, and I cried out in fear.
At this the apparition sent forth the words that caused my heart to all but fail. Its voice was high and raspy and of the wind but I knew the voice. It was the voice of young Jim. The voice of Jimmy Herriott. And that be the truth, by all that is holy. He says it may help us in our quest for the gold. Perhaps he is right. I hope so, for the return of my friend in good health has gladdened my heart and I would be saddened to see him return to the melancholy of this last winter.
The ghost of Jimmy Herriott? I could see that George was getting fidgety. And probably hungry. It often occurs at sea during thunderstorms. Sailing ships often have high masts with a small tip. When the air is charged up electrically by the storm it will sometimes develop what is called a voltage differential. This is where the electrical charge of the air is greater than that of other objects nearby, in this case the ship.
And so the air at the tip of the mast can begin to glow. Of course this is most visible at night, and it gives the impression of a lantern or a bright candle burning at the masthead.
Then Max piped up again. Herriott said that the ghost asked about the gold. Venables said. We were all silent for a moment. Did it mean anything? Did it have any significance? Then Dad shrugged. Everyone always tells it a little differently. Everyone always hears it a little differently. How about we see what else Rohan has to say? I ventured this day to the town square, for today our friends Eric Mickle, Martin Newby and Arthur Valentine did return from their hideous incarceration in the Old Bailey.
Leslie, Rohan, Ned and I stood with their families when they alighted from the coach and it was with shock that we greeted them. For they are now older men, their hair white and their muscles wasted. They were glad to see their families and greeted us well but one could see their discomfort. It has been more than two years since the Revenooer took them.
They have told us that their life in the Bailey was so terrible as not to be spoken of. Many good men perished from the poor food and sanitation, and it was only by their vigilance, and keeping to themselves, that they prevailed.
They said also that the Revenooer was cruel but careless, and boasted that the Run was smashed and the smugglers broken. The Revenooer purchases his greed with musket and ball.
But with greed oft comes blindness. Both Eric and Martin said that the Revenooer may have destroyed the mill and the Run, yet still he did not find the cave for he did not know the rule of the steps. Eric and Martin are keen to sail once again and will go to sea with Rohan and I this coming week.
We are glad that our friends are back and we trust that they will return soon to full health. Dad scrolled slowly through the journal. It was quite thick, and the pages were stained and blotchy.
On some pages the ink had seeped into the paper. It made the writing fuzzy, and the ink had leached through onto adjoining pages. Many of the pages had a spotty appearance. Many entries talk about how Polperro was doing so much better than Looe. It also looks like he and Leslie had a successful business.
Which is good to know. Dad gently flattened out a page of the journal. This day we laid to rest my friend of many years, Leslie Herriott, who has passed away some two days past. I have known Leslie since boyhood and our friendship has been ever firm.
Though I did never see Leslie speak with Miss Simmons, I am of the mind that he was fond of her for she was very comely. In any case he found his true love in Elizabeth and I stood with her today at the graveside. She is a fine and strong woman and good friend to my own good wife Beatrice.
Though Leslie was ill with the flux and the gout these last two years I did never hear his complaint. We spoke frequently and of this I am glad, for I feel I have not failed my friend nor I in our later years. To preserve our thinking, which I note to be a little cloudy of late, we have this last year prepared a map, which I will keep with my journal.
We have searched many years but of both Jim and the gold found naught. Each year we watch for the Ghost at the hour of 9 on the eve of December 6. Never has the Ghost failed in its visitations though it speaks only rarely. We have journeyed as close to the Maw as seemed safe but on no occasion could we see the Ghost clear. But it looked upon us many a time, we were sure. And it brought us to tears what with the sound of its cries. I will continue to search for both Jim and the gold, and I have sworn so to Leslie and Elizabeth though Beatrice thinks me daft.
Both Leslie and I have been ever sure that Jim and the gold are to be found. But where? The Princess Cave is forever sealed and the run destroyed, thanks to the infernal Revenooer, and the Maw and the Rocks of Gold are beyond us. May the Good Lord grant me firm limb and clear eye to continue my search. All the entries appear to be weekly, or even monthly. I guess he was busy with other things.
I am now in my 72nd year of life, and well past my allotted three score years and ten. Beatrice has nursed me patiently these last twelve monthes. Her kindness knows no bounds and she has been a great comfort to me though this bed is my prison and I am wont to escape it. I am confined to my bed with the palsy. My limbs now shake so much that it be difficult to write.
And I am ever cold, as if my blood does not flow unto my feet and my hands, and though I wear gloves and three stockings, always must I have a fire.
But it is the boat I miss. I have not felt the thump of the waves beneath my feet or the whip of salt spray upon my cheek for such a long time. And the smell. How I long for the smell. Of the sea, of the rain, of the distant storm, of the fish fresh caught. And the cries of the gulls, the gannets, the albatross.
I feel my heart swell as I recall these things so dear to me. I know that I will fly to meet them when my time comes. I have not been able to honour my pledge to Leslie. No trace did I find of either the gold or young Jim.
It is now so many years past that I have oft wondered if our search was naught but folly. But so what. And love will not be vanquished. I have asked Beatrice to pass my journal and the map to Ned Huxley. I hope that he and his son can prevail where we could not.
The rest of the journal was empty. This was the last entry. Was Rohan too sick in February and March to make any more? Did she forget to give it to Ned?
Or did she give it to Ned who then gave it to the library? Maybe Beatrice simply forgot about the journal for two years and then gave it to the library herself. Audio Software icon An illustration of a 3. Software Images icon An illustration of two photographs. Images Donate icon An illustration of a heart shape Donate Ellipses icon An illustration of text ellipses.
EMBED for wordpress. Want more? Install Game. Click the "Install Game" button to initiate the file download and get compact download launcher. Locate the executable file in your local folder and begin the launcher to install your desired game. View all 15 Smugglers Run Screenshots. Game review Downloads Screenshots What's the deal? So why is it a must-get game?
Overall rating: 5. Playstation 2. Overall rating: 6. Your Comment:. Read Online Download. Add a review Your Rating: Your Comment:. Hot Lazarus Vol.
0コメント