King Solomon's Treasure

Chapter 2 Meeting Sir Henry Curtis

I am 55 years old.At this age, I picked up a pen and tried to record a past event, which sounds very fresh.When I was writing, I kept thinking: If this book could be finished, what kind of story would it be?Maybe it's because from a very young age, I've lived alone.In this life, I have experienced many things.I started trading in the old colony to make ends meet while the other kids were in school.I've been a merchant, a hunter, fought a war, and even mined.Just eight months ago, I made a large fortune. Although I don't know the exact amount, it is indeed an amazing fortune.However, if for the sake of this wealth, I have to go through all the hardships of the past fifteen or six months again, I am definitely not willing.Even if I know that I will return safely and get a lot of wealth in the end, I don't want to.I am timid by nature, do not like violence, and hate adventure.I don't know why I wrote this book, it's not my job.Although I like to read "Old Testament" and "Ingoldsby Tales", but I am not good at dealing with words.So, let me first find out why I wrote this book.

First, because Sir Henry Curtis and Colonel John Goode asked me to write this book.

Second, because of the pain in my left leg, I am currently recuperating in Durban.I've been sick ever since I was bitten by that goddamn lion and now it's even worse and I'm walking with a terrible limp.The lion's teeth must have been poisonous, otherwise how could a wound that had healed open again a year later?It is unbelievable that a person like me who has killed 65 lions should be bitten on the leg by No. 60 six lions like chewing tobacco.Now my plans are all messed up.I am a step-by-step person, and I really don't like this kind of life.

Third, my boy Harry is doing an internship at a hospital in London.Hospital work can be boring and dull at times, and even dissecting dead bodies can be boring.So I decided to write this story to make him happy and happy and not be naughty for a week or two.At any rate, the story was amusing and would add some joy to his life.

Fourth and last reason.For what I am about to tell is one of the strangest stories I know.This sounds strange, because apart from Fratta, there are no other women in the story.Oh no, and Gagul, if she's a woman and not a devil.But she is at least a hundred years old, long past the age of marriage, so I didn't count her.Anyway, I can say with certainty that there is no heroine in the whole story.

While writing this book, I seem to be driving on a rough stretch of road.The axles were deep in the mud, and I was caught between a rock and a hard place, "Sutgis, Sutgis" as the Boers say (I'm not sure how to spell the word, actually).If the animals pulling the cart are strong enough, they will eventually overcome the difficulties.Of course, if the animal is thin and weak, you can only shake your head and sigh.Alright, let's start the story.

My name is Alan Quitman and I am a gentleman from Durban, Natal.I swear it's all true - that's how I started when I testified before the magistrate about the deaths of poor Kieva and Wentworth.But as the opening line of a book, that doesn't seem right.And, am I really a gentleman?What kind of talent can be called a gentleman?I do not know.I've dealt with niggers.No, I don't like the word "nigger", gotta get it out.I know some gentlemen out there, and a lot of white folks who come here from their homes with a lot of money, rich but miserly, not gentlemen.My boy, Harry, you would agree with me even if you hadn't read this book.At any rate, I was born a gentleman, though I have only been a traveling merchant and hunter in my life.I don't know whether I still retain the gentleman's demeanor, only you can judge for yourself.God knows I've tried my best.In this life, I have killed many people, but all in self-defense.I have never killed innocent people indiscriminately, and I have never had the blood of innocent people on my hands.God has given us life and wants us to defend life well.At least I've been trying to do so.I hope that when life comes to an end, I won't be punished for it.However, we live in a cruel, vicious world where even a timid person like me is drawn into killing again and again.I cannot tell whether this is right or wrong, but at any rate I have not stolen, though I have cheated a herd of cattle from a Xhosa once.But then he took revenge on me in a mean way that still haunts me to this day.

I first met Sir Henry Curtis and Colonel Goode eighteen months ago.I went elephant hunting in Bemanwado, but I had no luck, it was a terrible trip, everything went wrong.Worst of all, I also had a high fever.When I got better, I went to the diamond fields, sold the ivory, the wagons, and the cattle, dismissed the hunters, and took the mail to Cape Town.In Cape Town for a week, I took in all the places to see in the area including the Botanic Gardens and the new Parliament Buildings.In my opinion, the Botanic Gardens are of great benefit to the country; the Capitol, on the contrary, is just a decoration.Also, I feel like the restaurant owner is ripping me off.So I decided to return to Natal on the Denked.I stood on the pier waiting for the Edinburgh from Scotland.I bought a ticket and boarded the boat.After the Edinburgh's passengers changed ships in the afternoon, the Denkeld headed out to sea.

Two people on board piqued my curiosity.A man of about 30, broad-chested and long-armed, like few men I've ever met.He had blond hair, a very bushy blond beard, and large gray eyes set deep in his chiseled face.I have never seen such a handsome man, and looking at him for some reason reminds me of the old Danes.I don't know many ancient Danes, and by the way, a modern Dane once cheated me out of ten pounds.I saw a painting of a group of gentlemen, and at the time I thought they were white Zulus.The person in the painting drinks from a big horn cup and has long hair fluttering.Looking at this friend standing by the elevator, I thought to myself, if his hair was longer, his broad shoulders were covered with armor, he held a big ax in one hand, and a horn cup in the other, he would simply walk out of the painting people who come out.By the way, this may be a little strange, but I later found out that Sir Henry Curtis was actually of Danish blood.It seems that the characteristics of bloodlines are really obvious.The way he looked reminded me of someone else, though I couldn't remember his name at the time.

The person Sir Henry was talking to was short, stocky, dark-skinned, and completely different from Sir Henry's appearance.I quickly guessed that he was a naval officer.For some reason, I immediately recognized the Navy.I have hunted with several navies.In spite of their coarse language, they were the bravest, the best, the most upright men I have ever met in my life.

I once asked a question, what kind of person can be called a gentleman.Now I will answer this question.Although black sheep are inevitable, naval officers are, on the whole, true gentlemen.I think, it must be the vast ocean and the wind of God that purified their hearts, blew away the depression in their hearts, and made them real men.Closer to home, this time I guessed right again, he is indeed a naval officer, a 31-year-old colonel.After 17 years of service, with no hope of promotion, he had to retire from the Royal Army and received a rank that was in vain.This is the reality that those who serve Her Majesty have to face: when they start to really understand their duty and reach the peak of life, they are swept out of the house and can only return to the cold world to earn a living.Maybe they don't care about it, but I'd rather be a hunter.Although poor, he will not be controlled by others.I found his name on the passenger manifest: Colonel John Goode.He was of medium build, with broad shoulders and round shoulders, dark skin, strong build, and looked a little strange.He is neatly dressed, clean-shaven, and always wears a monocle over his right eye, which he takes off only to clean it.The glasses are not fixed with strings, as if they grow on the eye sockets.At first I thought he wore glasses when he slept, but then I realized I was mistaken.Before going to bed, he took off his glasses and put them in his trouser pocket along with his dentures.He has two good sets of dentures and I don't have any. I really want to break the last of the Ten Commandments, but it's just a matter of thinking.

Shortly after we set off, night fell and the weather got worse and worse.A strong wind blew from the land, and a thick fog rose, and people left the deck.The Denked was a square-bottomed flat-bottomed boat with a shallow draft, and it was bumping violently on the sea. It seemed that it would capsize at any time, but fortunately, it was only a surprise.At this time, it is no longer possible to walk back and forth on the deck.So I stood by the engine, where it was warmer.The pointer on the opposite side slowly swings back and forth with the shaking of the ship, indicating the angle of each hull tilt.

"There is a problem with the pointer, it is not adjusted correctly." Suddenly a voice sounded from behind me, and there was a hint of anger in the words.I turned back, and there was a man standing in front of me, the naval officer whom I had noticed when the passengers boarded.

"Really? How do you know?" I asked.

"How do I know? You don't need to look at it," he said as the ship shook a few times and regained its balance. "If it really shook to the position indicated by the pointer, the ship would have capsized long ago. That's all. Captain of the Merchant Marine With this kind of virtue, he is very careless in everything he does.”

At this time, the bell for dinner rang, and I secretly breathed a sigh of relief.It was just too painful to hear a Royal Navy officer talk about the subject.If there is anything more painful in the world than to hear a merchant captain speak out about his opinion of an officer in the Royal Navy.

Colonel Goode and I entered the dining-room, where Sir Henry Curtis was already seated.Colonel Good sat down next to him, and I sat opposite them.The colonel and I chatted quickly about hunting and other topics.He asked me a lot of questions, which I tried to answer.Soon he was talking about elephants.

"Ah, sir!" put in a man sitting next to me, "you've got the right man, speaking of elephants. Quatman hunter knows more about that than anyone else."

Sir Henry, who had been listening quietly all this time, was obviously taken aback.

"I'm sorry, sir," he leaned forward, his voice was deep and thick, and sounded very pleasant, "may I ask, sir, is your name Alan Quiteman?"

I say yes."

The big man didn't say anything more, I just heard him muttering "how lucky".

Soon, the dinner was over.As we were leaving the dining room, Sir Henry came up and invited me to smoke a pipe in his cabin.I agreed.So he and Colonel Good took me into the deck room on the Denkeld.This is a very nice cabin.There were originally two rooms, but when Sir Garrett or some other important person went out to sea on the Denked, the partition in the middle was removed, and it was never put back on.There is a sofa in the cabin, and a small table in front of the sofa.Sir Henry asked the steward to bring up a bottle of whiskey, and the three of us sat down and lit our cigarettes.

After the flight attendant delivered the whiskey, Sir Henry Curtis lit a cigarette and said, "Mr. Quitman, at this time the year before last, you were in a place called Bermanwald in the northern part of the Transvaal. "

"Yes, I was there." I replied.Ordinarily, ordinary people would not be so interested in my whereabouts. However, this gentleman in front of me knew it clearly, and I couldn't help being secretly surprised.

"You're there on business, aren't you?" asked Colonel Goode impatiently.

"Yeah, I shipped a truckload, pitched a tent outside the colony, and sold everything."

Sir Henry sat opposite me in a Madeira chair, with his arms resting on the table.He looked up, and stared straight at me with large gray eyes that shone with a strange longing.

"Did you meet a man named Neville there?"

"Oh, yes. He unloaded the car next to me and lived there for two weeks to let his animals rest. He said he planned to go further afield. A few months ago, I received a letter from a lawyer, Asked me about Neville and I wrote back and told him what I knew."

"Yes," said Sir Henry, "the solicitor forwarded to me your letter in which you say that Neville left Bermanwald in a waggon at the beginning of May, accompanied by a coachman and a guide. , a Xhosa hunter named Jim. Neville tells you that, if possible, this trip he intends to go to Iyandi, the farthest trading post in Matabelle county, to sell the wagon there and go on foot. You He also said in the letter that he did sell the wagon, because you saw it six months later with a Portuguese merchant who said he bought it from a white man in Iyandi who was called What, he didn't remember. He also said the white man had gone hunting farther afield with a local servant."

"Yes."

At this time, no one spoke.

"Mr. Quitman," said Sir Henry suddenly, "I think you must know, or guess, the reason, or destination, of my... Mr. Neville's going north?"

"I've heard some." I replied, and I fell silent.I don't want to discuss this topic.

Sir Henry and Colonel Goode looked at each other, and Colonel Goode nodded.

"Mr. Quitman," Sir Henry continued, "I would like to tell you a story, and I would like your advice, and perhaps your assistance. The lawyer who forwarded the letter said that the contents of the letter were true. .Because you are well known in Natal and everyone respects you. Your discreet style is especially commendable.”

I have always been a humble person, and after hearing this, I quickly bowed and took a sip of whiskey to hide my inner panic.

Sir Henry went on: "Actually, Mr. Neville is my brother."

"Oh." I was a little surprised. No wonder I thought Sir Henry looked familiar the first time I saw him. It turned out that I thought of Neville.Neville was much shorter than Sir Henry, and had a black beard.But both brothers had the same pair of gray eyes, with the same keen gaze, and their faces were somewhat similar.

Sir Henry went on: "He's my only brother. I thought we'd be together forever, never apart for a month. But just five years ago a misfortune befell us. We had a big fight, I was very unfair to my younger brother when I was angry." Colonel Goode nodded vigorously.At this time, the ship shook violently, and the mirror fixed on the opposite starboard side almost fell on top of our heads.Putting my hands in my trouser pockets, I looked up and saw Colonel Good nod in the mirror.

"I dare you to know," went on Sir Henry, "that if a man dies without a will, with no property but land—what is called estate in England—all his estate goes to the eldest son. We are quarreling His father died without making a will when he was red-faced. He refused to make a will during his lifetime, but unfortunately it was too late. As a result, the younger brother, who had no skill, did not inherit his father's property, not even a penny. Of course, I It's my responsibility to take care of him, but we were having a big fight at the time, so I didn't...it's a shame to say it." He sighed, and then went on, "I let him go. I didn't hate him, I didn't. Not stingy, just trying to wait for him to speak first and give in. But who knows he didn't do anything. I'm very sorry, Mr. Quitman, to bother you with these family matters, but I must make it clear, right, Good?"

"Of course, of course," said the colonel, "Mr. Quitman will certainly keep it a secret."

"That's right." I took considerable pride in my caution.

"Well," continued Sir Henry, "my brother had only a few hundred pounds in his account at the time. Without telling me, he withdrew the money from the account, took the name Neville, and set off for South Africa, hoping You can get rich there. That's what I heard later. Three years passed, I wrote several letters, but there was no reply. He must have never received the letter. I don't know anything about my brother. But, as time goes by As time went by, I became more and more worried about him. Mr. Quitman, you should understand that after all, blood is thicker than water."

"That's true." I thought of my own child, Harry.

"Brother George is my only relative. As long as I can get news about him and know that he is safe and sound, I am willing to give half of my property. I really want to see him again!"

"But he hasn't been heard from, Curtis," said Colonel Good suddenly, glancing at the big man.

"Mr. Quitman, as the days go by, I am getting more and more anxious. I don't know if my brother is dead or alive. If he is still alive, I want to take him home. I have asked about him everywhere, and your reply is what I got. One of the results. So far, things are better. You write that George is alive. But there is no other news. To make a long story short, I decided to go to him in person. Colonel Goode is very kind and willing to accompany I will go together."

"Yes," said the Colonel, "you see, I have nothing else to do. I am out of service, and the Admiralty pays me half my salary, and I am lucky to die of hunger. Perhaps you know, sir, or have heard of Mr. Neville." situation. Then tell us about it.”

(End of this chapter)