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- 2198
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:18.534Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
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- 2139
- text
- heavy withal. Regardless of Jarl’s entreaties, I managed to burst the
lid; thereby revealing a motley assemblage of millinery, and outlandish
knick-knacks of all sorts; together with sundry rude Calico
contrivances, which though of unaccountable cut, nevertheless possessed
a certain petticoatish air, and latitude of skirt, betokening them the
habiliments of some feminine creature; most probably of the human
species.
In this strong box, also, was a canvas bag, jingling with rusty old
bell-buttons, gangrened copper bolts, and sheathing nails; damp,
greenish Carolus dollars (true coin all), besides divers iron screws,
and battered, chisels, and belaying-pins. Sounded on the chest lid, the
dollars rang clear as convent bells. These were put aside by Jarl the
sight of substantial dollars doing away, for the nonce, with his
superstitious Misgivings. True to his kingship, he loved true coin;
though abroad on the sea, and no land but dollarless dominions ground,
all this silver was worthless as charcoal or diamonds. Nearly one and
the same thing, say the chemists; but tell that to the marines, say the
illiterate Jews and the jewelers. Go, buy a house, or a ship, if you
can, with your charcoal! Yea, all the woods in Canada charred down to
cinders would not be worth the one famed Brazilian diamond, though no
bigger than the egg of a carrier pigeon. Ah! but these chemists are
liars, and Sir Humphrey Davy a cheat. Many’s the poor devil they’ve
deluded into the charcoal business, who otherwise might have made his
fortune with a mattock.
Groping again into the chest, we brought to light a queer little hair
trunk, very bald and rickety. At every corner was a mighty clamp, the
weight of which had no doubt debilitated the box. It was jealously
secured with a padlock, almost as big as itself; so that it was almost
a question, which was meant to be security to the other. Prying at it
hard, we at length effected an entrance; but saw no golden moidores, no
ruddy doubloons; nothing under heaven but three pewter mugs, such as
are used in a ship’s cabin, several brass screws, and brass plates,
which must have belonged to a quadrant; together with a famous lot of
glass beads, and brass rings; while, pasted on the inside of the cover,
was a little colored print, representing the harlots, the shameless
hussies, having a fine time with the Prodigal Son.
It should have been mentioned ere now, that while we were busy in the
forecastle, we were several times startled by strange sounds aloft. And
just after, crashing into the little hair trunk, down came a great
top-block, right through the scuttle, narrowly missing my Viking’s
crown; a much stronger article, by the way, than your goldsmiths turn
out in these days. This startled us much; particularly Jarl, as one
might suppose; but accustomed to the strange creakings and wheezings of
the masts and yards of old vessels at sea, and having many a time
dodged stray blocks accidentally falling from aloft, I thought little
more of the matter; though my comrade seemed to think the noises
somewhat different from any thing of that kind he had even heard
before.
After a little more turning over of the rubbish in the forecastle, and
much marveling thereat, we ascended to the deck; where we found every
thing so silent, that, as we moved toward the taffrail, the Skyeman
unconsciously addressed me in a whisper.
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