The Press., 1894-01-11

| These rude powders are unquestion- ably the security. the prop, the stay, of our home. But for them our island would be fathoms beneath the sea. '
 Once in and seated by the glowing fire, Pedro, who had now become the house servant instead of the sailor, brought us bottle of wine. He un- corked the bottle and departed. Coreta turned three glasses, and the don pro- posed the toast, = America.
 We drank the whether have never tasted. remarked it.
 Ut should be fine," remarked the don-''that is, if age has improved it, for it may be older than am I. .''
 "Now, grandpa, Senor Claud," re- | marked Coreta, II will meet you at the tea table," And she was gone. "Senor Claud,'' said the don, ''you scarce believe that this wine can be sc old as l am. You wonder that this huge structure on this little isle should be our home. It descended to me from a race who, up to 50 years ago, were buc- caneers-what are nowadays termed pi- rates. This was their stronghold. With the death of my father, the last one tc follow that life disappeared. There are 1 in the vaults of Chanson wines and iq- uors, placed there when he was yet | boy, and jewels that would ransom a republic To whom they once belonged I know not, and not knowing l have | left them there. My mother was an American, captured by my father in a merchant ship, which, after being plum 1 dered of its valuables. was sent to the l bottom with all on board save her. He I loved her, and in time she loved him and wooed him from pirates life. He gave his interests to his former lieuten- ants and their crews and died here in peace. He only stipulated that they should find another refuge, and know nothing of them. But they are all dead
 long since. One only, old Martell, a 1 Frenchman, who was fathers body serv- ! ant, remained with him from his for mer life, and he long since passed away, l and his remains lie in the vault be- heath. It was his last wish that he might sleep forever by the jewels, the money and the merchandise that in his younger days, under the leadership of my father, had been plundered from merchantmen of every nationality. strange wish, was it not?'
 Ut was indeed" replied, but do you intend to make no use of all this | wealth?"
 No. It was my dying mothers last | wish that should not touch it. have l seen it but twice-once when old Mar | tell showed me the place where he wish ed his remains to repose after death he was then bowed with age-again 40 years ago, when placed his dead body on the casket of jewels in the vault. My father had never told me the story of his early life. It was only aft CT his death that learned it, and then from old Martell. Even then mother grieved greatly that he had told me of the hidden treasure and bade me never touch it. She said that in fathers lat ter years he had considered it curse. But come, there's the tea bell. have told you more than any soul on earth. It must have been my early friendship for your father that impelled me. Co- reta knows nothing of all this, and in her presence do not refer to it. Poor dearl Her father, mother and my own dear wife died when she was but  child '
 At the tea table Coreta joined us. If had thought her bewitching before, | when 1 saw her now in her evening dress, a string of pearls around her snow white neck. golden bracelet clasped round each tapering wrist, a diamond ! cluster sparkling mid the golden ring lets of her hair. l thought her beauti- full. Her maid, Aralda, attended us at the table, and, oh, what pleasant hour there passed to mel And after tea, when the good don and l adjourned to a neighboring room to test cigars that came from he knew not where, neither their age, with Good night, senor," she vanished from my sight. felt that had seen a lovely dream, and when had followed Pedro to room above, furnished with the elegance of other climes than Chili-elegant mahogany, rare lace curtains, carpets of value rarely seen at home, each article of fur niture denoting bygone age-and laid my head upon the pillow it was not to sleep, but to think of Coreta, of the don, of the jewels beneath, of dead Martell, keeping his silent vigil on the casket, of piracies, and then wonder from what cline came each and every article, and when l slept it was the same. Pedro awoke me in the morning, and after breakfast Coreta and l took a stroll on the island. There were sur rounding the house perhaps 10 acres of ground that showed a luxuriant growth of flowers, shrubbery and vegetables of all descriptions. An old gardener was working, there as we passed. To our Good morning. he muttered some na- tive words that could not understand, and his face lit up with pleasure as ha gazed at Coreta.
 Poor old Juan," said she. As old as he is, he goes to every dance in O. quombo among his class" And she gave him coin.
 "How many people have you on the island?" asked.
 "Seven," she answered, besides grandpa and I-our servants. '' found the island for the greater part barren and rocky, with here and there, all over it, an occasional huge powder, such as l have before men tioned.
 Its greatest length could not have ex- ceeded two miles, and it's width not more than half as much. Nor was it much elevated above the oceans level, but yet Coreta said the angriest waves never more than dashed their spray half way to the house. But, senor," she added, sometimes the roar of the waves and the shrieking of the wind cause me to think that our island is trembling."
 We visited the stables, where two sleek mules and Coreta's pony were quartered. Then you do ride here2" said 1.
 "Oh, yesl" she replied, "and often