'Mr Evelith,' said Edward, very anxious that we shouldn't be sidetracked, 'what we're actually trying to discover, not to beat around the bush, is the exact location of the wreck of the David Dark.'
At that moment, Enid came into the library with a small silver tray of sherry. She came click-clacking over to us, and handed it around. For one strangely tantalizing second, she leaned across in front of me, and I glimpsed her small bare breast through her dress. I accepted my sherry from her with a smile, but the look she gave me in return was cold — cast out of pure indifference.
When she had gone, and closed the library door behind her, Duglass Evelith said, in a phlegm-thickened voice, ‘The David Dark? What do you know of the David Dark?’
'Only that she used to belong to Esau Hasket, who had christened her after David Dark the evangelist preacher,' said Edward. 'Only that she set sail from Salem in a terrible storm in 1692 and was never seen again. At least, that's what the history books say. But they also say that every single reference to her was cut from every single logbook and broadsheet, and that Esau Hasket forbade anybody ever to mention her again. And the inference is that she foundered, quite soon after leaving Salem, and was driven back into Salem Sound by a strong northeasterly wind, and finally went down off Granitehead Neck.'
Duglass Evelith sucked in his cheeks, and regarded us thoughtfully. 'She sank over 290 years ago,' he said, choosing his words with care. The likelihood of there being anything salvageable left of her is rather less than slim, wouldn't you say?'
'Not if she really did go down where we think she did,' Edward argued. 'On the west side of Granitehead peninsula, the bottom is very soft mud, and if the David Dark behaved like every other sinking ship of the period, which we have no reason to doubt that she did, she would have plunged into that mud right up to her waterline, maybe higher, and buried herself within a matter of weeks.'
'Well?' asked Duglass Evelith.
'If that happened, then the David Dark will still be there. Preserved, right up to the orlop deck at least. And that means that whatever she was carrying in her hold will be preserved, too.'
'You know what she was carrying?'
'We're not sure,' said Forrest. 'All we know is that the people of Salem were in a hell of a hurry to get rid of it; and that it was contained in a specially-made copper vessel, or could have been.'
Edward said, 'We've been diving in the area, looking for the wreck, for over a year now. I'm sure it's there; I'm convinced of it. But unless we can find some documentary evidence of where she might have gone down, it's going to take us the rest of our lives to locate her. It's not even worth doing echo-soundings until we have a pretty exact idea of where she is. There are so many small boats and so many heaps of trawl nets down there, we'd forever be picking up likely-looking signals, and of course we'd have to dive down and investigate all of them.'
Old man Evelith was sipping his sherry all this time; but when Edward had finished, he set down his glass on the table beside him and gave a dry, thin sniff.
'Why, exactly, do you want to find the wreck of the David Dark?’ he asked us. 'What is so desperately urgent about it?'
I looked at him carefully. 'You know what's in it, don't you?' I asked him. 'You know what's down there, and why they tried to get rid of it?'
Duglass Evelith looked back at me, just as shrewdly, and smiled. 'Yes,' he admitted. 'I know what's in it. And if you can convince me that you have a strong enough reason for salvaging it; and that you know what dangers you may be up against, I'll tell you what it is.'
Twenty-One
I had been guessing, of course, when I suggested to Dug-lass Evelith that he knew what secret was concealed in the wreck of the David Dark; but not guessing too wildly. It was obvious from the books that lined the library shelves around us that he was interested in history and magic, and if he knew so much about the early settlers and the way in which they had conjured up Indian spirits to help them in the wilderness, then the chances that he was acquainted with the sinking of the David Dark were high.
Besides that, if Duglass Evelith didn't know where the wreck was located, or how it had sunk, then nobody would. This monkey-shriveled old man was our only possible hope.
'My wife was killed in a road accident just over a month ago,' I told him, in a quiet voice. 'Recently, she's been visiting me. I mean that her spirit has been visiting me. Her ghost, if you like. And talking to other people in Granitehead who have recently lost their relatives, I've discovered that what I've been experiencing is not exactly an uncommon phenomenon in this part of the world.'
That's all?' asked old man Evelith.
'Isn't it enough?' Edward demanded.
'There is more,' I said. 'An elderly woman who lived out on West Shore Road was killed two days ago by the spirit of her dead husband, and I understand that several other people have died in very gruesome and peculiar ways. It seems as if the ghosts are not benign; but are culling the living, in order to join them in the region of the dead.'
Duglass Evelith raised a white wiry eyebrow. 'The region of the dead?' he inquired. 'Who mentioned the region of the dead?'
'My wife,' I said. 'As a matter of fact, I saw her again last night. I saw lots of spirits last night, every dead damned soul in Waterside Cemetery.'
Edward looked across at me, and gave me a nod to show that he understood now why my behaviour had been so fractured this morning. Duglass Evelith sat back in his armchair, his elbows perched on the arms, his mittened hands hanging like the talons of a dead rook. Forrest cleared his throat, and shifted his backside on the leather-covered sofa so that it squeaked rudely.
'You're telling me the truth,' said Duglass Evelith, after a while.
'Of course we're telling you the truth,' Forrest protested. 'You don't think we would have driven all the way out here and given you a valuable antique writing-case for nothing, do you?'
'I am regarded by the local populace with grave suspicion,' said Duglass Evelith. 'I am thought to be a sorcerer, or a madman, or an incarnation of Satan. That is why the gates are locked, and that is why I keep my guard-dogs, and that is why I treat any attempted incursion into my house with the deepest caution. The last time I allowed a party of gentlemen to come into my house, four years ago, they attempted to beat me up and burn my library. It was only because Quamus was so prompt in intervening that my library and I both survived.'
'How do you know we're telling you the truth?' I asked him.
'Well, there are indications. What you say about Granitehead is quite correct; and for some years now I have associated what has been happening there with the wreck of the David Dark. But, certainly, the visitations you describe are far more vivid and far more threatening than they, have ever been before. You also mentioned "the region of the dead", and unless you have been undertaking some extremely detailed research in order to perpetrate an elaborate and apparently pointless hoax, you would not have known that "the region of the dead" is exactly the phrase which is appropriate to the history of the David Dark.'
Edward said, 'Have you any idea why the ghosts should be more threatening now than they ever have been before?'
Duglass Evelith thoughtfully rubbed his white-stubbled chin. 'There are many possible explanations. One really won't be able to tell until the contents of the David Dark’s hold are raised and inspected. But you are right: the influence which is affecting the dead of Granitehead has been emanating from the large copper vessel which on that voyage was the David Dark’s only cargo. Perhaps that vessel has at last corroded to the point where the influence has been able to escape.'