The Press., 1894-01-18

See. see, the carpet is covered! Whats thatp Whats that? A shadow in front of the window!'
 ''Senor Claud! Senor Claud!'
 Thank Godl Thank God! Faithful ledge.'
 They dash in the sash and grapple with their hooks
 Haste, haste. senor!'
 ''Savedl Saved! Coreta, we are savedI''
 We are soon in the yacht-Coreta, my boy, the maid and Thy dear wife fainting in my arms. The yacht is showed clear of the castle walls, her sails fill, and we are off for Coquombo.
 Faithful Pedro! He and Manuel were dozing in the cabin when they were startled by a tremendous lurching of the yacht. They rushed on deck to find that she had broken the fastening that held her to the pier and was drifting out to sea.
 "Senor Claud," said Pedro, "the sea had risen so high that the pier was many feet below the yacht, and only for it's breaking loose we would have been deep down under the water.
 We speedily hoisted sail, when to my amazement l saw the gray walls of the castle in the distance with the waves flashing against them. We had drifted past the castle. Then I real ized that instead of drifting toward the mainland we had drifted across the island, past the castle and out to sea. 1 knew not if you were lost, but after time the sea seemed not so rough, and I ran the yacht to the chamber win dow. You know the rest The sea in it's might has risen ill d night and swal- lowed up Chanson. Poor old Chanson! My dear old master! Juan and the lit tie don's pony-where arc they? But look, senor, lock-
 We gazed back in the direction of Chanson. Only the towering chsslneys and high gables of the old castle met..our view, and even as our eyes rested upon them they disappeared forever from the sight of man. Higher and angrier grew the waters. A tremendous wave seemed almost to lift us from the bosom of the deep and hurI us farther on
 "Chanson! Chanson! My dear old grandfather said my dear wife. Are you lost forever, or is it but for night?''
 "See, Senor Claud, said Ped10, '..the lights of Coquombo.
 What, Pedro? What? Coquombo? There. Coquombo and the coast of Chili, and not engulfed beneath the wavesl l see it all. Coreta, darling, it was not the rising of the waters that hid Chanson from view. Our island home has sunk beneath the sea forever. The waves of centuries have done their work. The foundation gradually has washed from beneath those huge bowl ders that held the isle together, and it has sunk to rest. Deep down in the ocean lies Chanson. There the old cas- tie, tenantless save by the fishes of the sea, may strive to raise from it's watery bed. It is there forever. There Is the old armory and there yet on the walls that vast array of weapons of other ages will hang, never to be removed by human agencies, but swayed back and forth by the action of the mighty deep. There is the vault with the bones of the pirate kings. There is dear Don Ignace. the last of his race indeed, to find resting place meath the soil of his ancestral home. The island and Don Ignace dis appeared together There old Martell still holds his vigil over the treasure chest-the treasure chest? An, it is empty. It's millions are in the coffers of the yacht.
 We reach the pier. The waters are no higher than usual. My dear wife sits sobbing by my side, and my boy lies sleeping on my knees. We are soon in the hostelry of Don Miguel.
 At dawn of day leave my wife and boy sleeping and visit the pier. It is thronged with people, all talking wild ly, gesticulating and gazing in the di- rection from which should loom up the castle walls of Chanson. Naught but a vast expanse of old ocean meets their gaze. The white caps are dancing mer rily over the island of Chanson. Only once more do gaze in that direction and that is when, with wife and boy, the maid and faithful Pedro and Man uel, stand on the deck of an ocean steamer whose destination is New York We wave last farewell to the locality where once stood Chanson.
 The treasure of the pirate kings goes with us. Perhaps the curse will not arise to follow it from the bosom of the sea.