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kept
urging her to save him. Several times during the early-morning hours, she
thought she saw the image of a woman in her room. But when she sat up, no one
was there. She shrugged it off as being her overactive imagination compounded
with the excitement of her find.
    Spirits spoke to her, this she believed. But why would they
surround this particular bit of stone? And why was it so important she save
him as the voice requested on each whispered plea? She swore it was the
same voice that warned of a curse if she continued. Why’d it change its tune?
That was a mystery she was determined to figure out.
    Before the sun broke the horizon, Caledonia and her crew
dropped anchor above their latest treasure. Poppa and the O’Reillys worked
tirelessly lowering the equipment necessary to bring the statue to the surface.
If she’d calculated right, the half-ton jib crane on the Marcail Struana ,
along with the airbags she intended to attach to the statue, should be
sufficient to haul her prize aboard. By midmorning, she and Percy were suited
up and over the side.
    Knowing its exact location shortened the time it took them
to reach it. With precision, they attached the deflated airbags. Once full, the
airbags would rise to the surface and if placed properly, the statue would
follow along with them. Around the statue’s middle, she and Percy wrapped a
harness then attached it to the cable from the jib crane. She checked and
double-checked the placements. Satisfied everything was ready, she released the
red rubber ball from her belt. It floated to the surface and served as a signal
for Poppa and Abel to start the air compressors.
    Caledonia remained with the statue, checking the bags and
the tension on the jib crane cable. Percy kept an eye on the compressor lines
to the airbags. Both knew this would take hours for the bags to fill. The lines
were set. Air reached the bags and the filling process started. There was
nothing left for them to do but ascend and watch the onboard gauges for signs
of trouble and wait.
    She faced the statue. Those silent eyes spoke to her soul.
Something in them made her ache to remain at his side and guide him to the
surface. But she knew she couldn’t, not with the limited equipment she owned.
If she had the two-man submersible Kip won in the divorce, escorting this
treasure wouldn’t be a problem.
    The use of a rebreather helped give her a greater depth
range, but even when used with tanks containing the trimixure—a blend of oxygen,
helium and nitrogen, time was limited. Most tanks allowed approximately two to
two and a half hours of underwater exploration before surfacing was mandatory.
It would take longer than that for the statue to breach the surface, thus
making it impossible for her to accompany it. With one last look, she turned
and reluctantly followed Percy to the surface.
    Hours passed before the tension on the jib crane cable went
lax. Her heart skipped a beat as she stared over the rail. That meant either
the cable detached—which she doubted—or the airbags had filled enough to cause
the statue to lift. Abel manned the jib crane. She exhaled when the cable
tightened. It was a sign the statue remained attached. A check of the gauges
showed the bags were near maximum capacity.
    Slow and steady, Abel maintained the jib crane. The cable
returned to the reel at inch-by-inch intervals. When she saw the hazy outline
of the airbags, she knew the statue had to be close behind. The moment the
airbags broke surface, she and Percy were over the side. Silently she prayed
the jib crane didn’t fail.
    Abel kept the line taut. Their timing needed to be precise.
If they released the airbags from the statue too soon, it might sink if the
cable didn’t hold. Once she and Percy were in place, she signaled Abel. The
most beautiful sight she’d ever seen revealed itself within several feet of
her. Effortlessly the jib crane lifted the statue from the water. As it
breached the surface, Poppa hooked the