The Black Pearl by Scott O’Dell Read Free Book Online Page B

would have bought, enough to build a dozen fleets, it was a thought that quickly vanished.
    The Sevillano called to me. He was standing outside the church, dressed in tight trousers and a ruffled shirt that was open and showed the tattoos on his chest.
    "Well, mate," he said, "it has been a big day, almost as big as the day I found the pearl in the Gulf of Persia. I have heard many stories about your pearl, but how much does it really weigh?"
    I told him the true weight, though I felt that whatever I said the one he had found would be larger.
    "The pearl from the gulf," he said, "was heavier. Picture one that filled your two hands, and that was the pearl I sold to the Shah of Persia."
    "A good one," I said, and as I spoke I was surprised that I did not feel the same about the Sevillano. His bragging no longer annoyed me, or not nearly so much. And now that I had dived in the Vermilion Sea and found the great black pearl, he could not say that I had done nothing nor that I was a coward. "What did it weigh?" I asked him.
    "I have forgotten," he said, looking at his boots, suddenly not interested in weights. "Tell me, does your pearl have a flaw?"
    "It is not my pearl."
    The Sevillano was a scoffer, and this was his way of saying that he did not believe in the Madonna.
    "Sure, I know all about that. But does it have a flaw?"
    "None," I said. "Not the smallest?"
    "None."
    "Is it truly round?"
    "Yes."
    "A round pearl that has no flaws and weighs more than sixty carats is worth..." He whistled through his teeth. Then he lowered his voice. "I have heard you found it at Pichilinque."
    "Nearby," I said.
    And though he pressed me I would say no more, so we parted with a handshake and I started home. Night was falling. As I drew near the gate a figure stepped out of the shadows and spoke my name. It was the old man from the lagoon, Soto Luzon.
    "Did you like the celebration?" I asked him.
    He did not speak at once and then not to answer me.
    "I saw the Madonna and the pearl," he said. "I saw them go through the plaza and through the streets and down to the sea and I heard every-
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    one singing." He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. "You are still a boy and there is much that you do not know. Therefore I must tell you that the pearl does not belong to the Madonna nor to the church nor to the people who were singing. It belongs to the Manta Diablo and someday he will take it back. Of this I solemnly warn you."
    I began to say something, but without another word the old man turned and disappeared into the darkness. I thought no more about him until morning when my father and I were walking down to the beach.
    "Would Luzon allow me to search for pearls in the lagoon?" my father said.
    "No, and I would not ask him."
    "The voyage to Cerralvo is long," my father said. "Our last trip there gave us few pearls, though more than elsewhere. In the lagoon we might find another like the great one."
    I told my father about the encounter with the old man the night before and what he had said.
    "Luzon is a crazy Indian," my father replied.
    "Crazy or not," I said, "it is his lagoon and he will not allow you to dive there."

11
    T HE FLEET SAILED that morning for Isla Cerralvo. The boats glistened in their fresh paint and the streamers that hung from their masts still shone bright. They fluttered in a light wind that blew out of the south, and the sky was the same color as the morning sea. It was a beautiful day, as if the Madonna Herself had willed it so.
    When I left for home that afternoon it was very hot, because the south wind had died away. Then the cool coromuel started to blow down from the mountains. But at supper the coromuel died too and the air was heavy and hard to breathe. Trailing clouds appeared in the sky and the palms in the courtyard began to rustle.
    My mother stopped eating and went to the window and looked out. If my father was on the sea the smallest change in the weather made her fearful. If the wind did blow she was