The Adventures of Tintin (21 page)

Nestor led them down a curving stone staircase into a vaulted cellar packed with the trophies and heirlooms of generations of Haddocks. Tintin’s pulse quickened. Surely this was it!

But Captain Haddock looked around in confusion. “No, no, no,” he muttered. Turning to Nestor, he said, “This isn’t it. I meant the other cellar.”

“I’m sorry, sir?” Nestor looked puzzled. “There is no other cellar.”

“It was bigger than this,” Captain Haddock said. He reached out and touched one wall, looking around as if trying to place himself on a map in his head.

Tintin looked around, too, and noticed that Snowy was gone. He didn’t want any expensive antiques chewed up or knocked over. “Snowy?” he called. “Captain, have you seen him?”

Captain Haddock was still locked in his reverie; but the guard dog suddenly made a beeline for a stack of shrouded furniture. It lowered its head and scratched at the base of the wall. Tintin came up next to the hound and peered through the sheets covering the furniture. There appeared to be a small opening in the wall. “Snowy?” Tintin called. He thought he heard an answering bark. “Captain, help me.”

Nestor and Captain Haddock helped Tintin shift the furniture aside, exposing the hole in the wall. Tintin looked at Captain Haddock and saw that they were thinking the same thing: Someone must have walled off part of the cellar, which would explain why Captain Haddock remembered a larger area.

Snowy whined eagerly. “Just like you said, Captain,” Tintin said, remembering their conversation on the beach after the flood, when things seemed at their most hopeless. “You hit a wall . . .”

“You push through it!” Captain Haddock finished.

They looked around and found an old timber lying along the base of the wall nearby. Picking it up and aiming it at the edge of the small opening, they used it as a battering ram.
Boom!
At the first impact, bricks and stones fell away, tripling the size of the hole. Tintin set down his end of the timber and got on his hands and knees to pick through the rubble. He discovered a long, vaulted room, lit by small skylights that must have been angled cleverly at different parts of the house’s roof. The room was lined with paintings, statues, suits of armor . . . it was a treasure trove of souvenirs from around the world! Statues of Egyptian gods and Buddhas sat surrounded by open chests and crates filled to overflowing with trinkets and mementoes of generations of Haddocks and all their voyages across all the world’s oceans. Flags of long-vanished nations hung from the ceiling, or from the points of ceremonial spears. On one wall, a row of masks looked down like a gallery of ancient spectators waiting to see what show Tintin might perform. He stood stunned for a moment, taking it all in.

Captain Haddock had come through the hole in the wall right behind Tintin. “My grandfather must have walled it up before he lost the house,” he said, walking deeper into the hidden space. He picked up an ancient cap-and-ball pistol and hefted it as if it were familiar to him. Then, setting it down, he flipped through a leather-bound book filled with angular cursive. A diary of one of his forebears, Tintin thought. Captain Haddock was home.

But Marlinspike Hall wouldn’t really be his home unless they found the treasure. Captain Haddock kept picking things up and putting them down again. There was so much to look at! They searched through the room as Tintin thought about the next clue in the scrolls.

“
And then shines forth the Eagle’s Cross
. . .” he quoted.

They didn’t see an eagle anywhere. “I can see the cross,” Captain Haddock said, pointing at a statue of a man holding a cross, “but where’s the eagle?”

Tintin looked closely at the statue. “St. John the Evangelist!” he said. “He was called the Eagle of Patmos. He’s the eagle . . .” But that wasn’t all they needed to know. Where did the cross shine forth? Why? “But what is he trying to tell us, Captain? I’m at a loss.”

They stepped back to get a little perspective, looking up and down the shadowed walls. Tintin noticed that the cross St. John held gleamed a little in the pale shafts of light that fell from the ceiling. He had a thought. “Captain, look,” he said.

He reached out and held a hand in front of the cross, blocking whatever light it might reflect. Captain Haddock pointed. “There,” he said. Tintin moved his hand again and reflected light fell on a carved stone globe across the room from the statue.

Looking closely at it, Tintin saw no clues. It was a beautiful globe, no question about it. But it was just a globe, with carved reliefs of various island chains and coastlines.

“That island,” Captain Haddock said, pointing. “The one in the middle. That doesn’t exist.”

Amazed, Tintin looked from the globe to Captain Haddock. “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve sailed those waters countless times. I’ve been there,” Captain Haddock said. “It’s a mistake.”

Now Tintin felt the thrill, the quickening of his pulse and his thoughts, that he always experienced when he knew he was right on the verge of a big story. A huge story. “What if it isn’t?” he asked.

“Isn’t what?” Captain Haddock said.

“A mistake. Sir Francis wanted his inheritance to go to a man who was worthy of it,” Tintin said. “A man like himself, who knows the seas like the back of his hand. A man who could look at a globe and tell if one tiny island was out of place.”

Captain Haddock caught his breath. A slow grin stole over his face. Tintin nodded at him, encouraging him. Captain Haddock reached out slowly and with one fingertip pressed on the island that shouldn’t have been there . . .

There was a soft click, and the top of the globe—from the Arctic Circle northward—lifted open like a lid.

Tintin and Captain Haddock leaned forward and peered into the globe, not daring to hope.

“Blistering treasure,” Captain Haddock said quietly. “It’s Red Rackham’s barnacles!”

Tintin laughed and reached into the globe. When he pulled his hand out, it was filled with the warm glow of gold pieces and the sharp glitter of cut jewels. He couldn’t believe it. Red Rackham’s treasure!

“What’s this?” Captain Haddock said as he reached in himself. He stood and removed an old felt tricorne. Tintin recognized it immediately from Captain Haddock’s stories. It was Sir Francis’s own hat, and it was filled with more treasure. With a delighted laugh, Captain Haddock spilled everything into a nearby box and put the hat on. He sighed, and Tintin wished he had a camera. This was the moment, he thought, when Captain Haddock assumed his birthright.

But there was more! At the bottom of the globe lay another piece of parchment.

Tintin was about to look at it when Nestor arrived bearing a tray with a bottle of champagne and a pair of glasses. He set down the tray and regarded the scene. Tintin thought he looked satisfied. Nestor had been on their side all along, he thought; he would have to make sure to tell everyone that when it was time to get this story out.

“Aahhhhhh,” Captain Haddock said. “A wee tipple, a toast to good fortune.” He drank his glass and looked thoughtful for a moment. “It’s odd, really. After all the fuss and bother, you’d have thought there would be more.”

“More of what?” Tintin asked as Captain Haddock drank Tintin’s glass of champagne, too.

“Red Rackham’s treasure,” Captain Haddock said. “I mean, by your own account he looted half of South America! I just thought . . . well, never mind. There’s plenty to go around.” Again he grew thoughtful, and Tintin became more and more curious about what was in his mind. “It’s a funny old life,” Captain Haddock said. “You’ve got your story for your newspaper. All’s well that ends well.”

Tintin was sorry to see Captain Haddock disappointed. There was one more thing he wanted to tell the captain, but he didn’t want to say it when anyone else was around. Tintin had not forgotten that, until yesterday, Nestor had been in Sakharine’s employ. He waited until Nestor had gathered up the champagne glasses and left. Then he said quietly, “It’s not ended.” Captain Haddock looked up from a bauble in his hand, and Tintin showed him the parchment. It was a map. “Sir Francis left another clue at the bottom of the globe.”

“A clue to what?” Captain Haddock asked eagerly.

“Four hundred weight of gold, just lying at the bottom of the sea,” Tintin said. “How’s your thirst for adventure, Captain?”

Surrounded by the wealth of his ancestors, Captain Haddock suddenly looked like he could conquer the world. “Unquenchable, Tintin!” he said.

Mine, too
, Tintin thought. He could already feel the thrill of the new adventure that awaited them. Captain Haddock resettled Sir Francis’s hat on his head and leaned in close so he could get a good look at the map Tintin held.

“Blistering barnacles,” Captain Haddock said. “Four hundred weight of gold, just waiting for us to find it.”

Snowy put his paws up on Tintin’s lap, took one look at the map, and barked.

“That’s right, Snowy,” Tintin said. “We may not have told the whole story just yet.”

THE ADVENTURES OF TINTIN: A NOVEL
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 448 12050 5

Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Penguin Random House Company

This ebook edition published 2011

Copyright © Paramount Pictures, 2011. All rights reserved.

First Published in the United States by Little Brown, 2011

Bantam edition published 2011

The right of Alex Irvine to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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