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Mr Chair,’ McFadden said importantly. ‘If ’n I has to, he must.’
    â€˜But of course! Mr Chair, this is not good news for your little endeavour. It’s my judgement that whatever the wreck held is indeed on the seabed – and is, therefore, sadly, quite out of reach. My advice is that the venture be now wound up.’ He felt a stab of sympathy for them and a small twinge of disappointment. If they’d been luckier it would have been an interesting diversion.
    â€˜Hey, now – that’s not what we want to hear.’
    â€˜I’m sorry, Laddie.’
    â€˜We want t’ know how to get up our treasure, not how’s about it’s so difficult.’
    â€˜You’re talking about salvage. Like
Royal George
where they recovered so much.’
    â€˜Aye, that’s it!’
    â€˜Sadly, this is not within your means. They used one of Dr Halley’s diving bells, which I’d be sanguine are not readily available to the ordinary folk.’
    â€˜If we need ’un we’ll find ’un, never fear on that.’
    â€˜They’re tons’ weight of bronze, or is it copper? Never mind, your
Aileen
could never lift one.’
    â€˜So we rafts the
Maid
to her! Look, Mr Paine, we thanks ye for your advice, right kindly in you, an’ we’ll get it on ourselves.’
    â€˜I really think—’
    â€˜Thank ye again, Mr Paine, and if we needs your services further, we’d be obliged if we c’n call upon ye.’
    Kydd took his leave and the meeting turned to the matter before them.
    â€˜I heard o’ them diving bells,’ Jeb enthused. ‘Marvellous things, they. Ye sit inside, lowers down and next thing you’re in among all the fishes but dry as a bone. Goes right down to the bottom o’ the sea and all ye does is pick up what you wants!’
    â€˜Sounds like what we needs. Where we goin’ t’ find ’un?’
    â€˜Hold hard, y’ bugger. Think on this – it’s goin’ to take a hill o’ chinks to hire. Where’s
that
comin’ from?’
    â€˜We puts in equal dibs.’
    â€˜And if
Maid
an’
Aileen
both can’t swing it between ’em we has to find a bigger barky. This is gettin’ a mort ticklish f ’r me, Laddie.’
    â€˜Ye’re givin’ up afore we starts?’ McFadden said scornfully. ‘A day’s work an’ we’ll be rich as Croesus and all I hear is groanin’ about a few guineas.’
    â€˜Well, tell me this – where’s one o’ your divin’ bells t’ be found, then? They’ll all be in the south, Portsmouth, London, never in these pawky islands.’
    â€˜Ah! That’s where ye’re dead wrong, mate. Five year back, when
Fox
sloop piled up on Colonsay they had in a bell at the trot, and all her guns up in a week.’
    â€˜You’re sayin’ as they has a diving bell at the ready, like?’
    â€˜Well, nearest navy is t’other side o’ Scotland, Leith. That’s only about five hundred sea miles to bring it, what do y’ think?’
    â€˜Well? Where is it, then?’
    â€˜Can only be Tobermory. There you has the whole o’ the Western Isles before ye, anything runs ashore.’
    The meeting came to order and it was resolved that an expedition to Tobermory be mounted without delay to locate a diving bell.

Chapter 14

    T he little coastal track meandered interminably along the west shore of the isle but it was what Kydd craved – deep rural silence and solitude, with a sublime view of the sea and islands. In a wafting fragrance of peat and heather, it was working its magic on his soul.
    A flock of sheep across his path scattered in alarm and he spotted a figure in highland smock standing against the skyline, watching him.
    He rounded yet another foreland and saw, far out on the glittering sea, a fishing boat with patched ochre sails on its way round to