The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-04-03
CHAPTER xxx.
onenlnn of the Treasure Chest.

The dawn CRme slovlT, and with but little Increase of light. G,te breeze had almost entirely died away, leaving the canvas aloft motionless, the schooner barely moving through a slightly heay- ing sea, in the midst of dull-gTay mist. When Watkins emerged from the mist proposed to him that we go below and continue the search for gold. He was not anxious to go and Dorothy persuaded ne to let her go with r@zr, In the room where the ape had,ha hidden we found big chest ,ton of yet to work to open it. f these proved harder than I had be- i've an ted, the simple of the lock clinging -ell aso the hard teak wood of which the hey gchest was made. The lid was heavy, Tn but aB ! finally forced it backward 1r hinge snapped md permitted 1t to drop crashing to the deck. For an in- stant I could see nothing within.
 'Lift up the lantern, Dorothy, r~ ~. No, hIght than that. What .S. = od'c name? N ny, 1t is the corpse Of woman"
 I heard her cry out, and barely caught the lantern as it fell from her hand. At first doubted the evidence of my own eyes, snatching the bit of t haring candle from it's tin socket and holding it where the full glare of light fell across the grewsome object Ay, 1t was a woman, with lower limbs doubled back from lack of space, but otherwise lying as though she slept, so perfect in preservation her cheeks ap- Deared flushed with health, her lips , r smiling. It was a face of real ' DtIuty-an English face, although her eyes and hair were dark and her man.  tlonably Spanish. A string of pearls encircled her throat, and there were numerous rings upon her fingers. The very contrast added immeasurabIy to the horror.
 "She Is alive! Surely she is aIive!" The words were sobbed into my ear from Dorothy's lips.
 "Alive No. that is impossibleT T' touched the figure with my hand ''The flesh is like stone," I said, thus held llfelike by some magic of the Indies. What can 1t all mean? Who could the woman be? It is love or hate?'
 Not love, Geoffry. Love would never do this thing. It is hate, the GlOating of revenge; there can be no other an5wer-this is the end of tragedy"
 TNere was nothing, not a scrap of paper, not even the seublance or wound exposed. The smile on those parted lips had become one of mock cry; could bear the sight no longer, and rose to my feet, clasping Dorothy close to me- as she still gazed down In fascination at the ghastly sight.
 "We will never know. The man who could tell is dead"
 Captain Paradilla7"
 "WhO else could 1t be? This was his schooner, and here he alone could hide such a secret. There is nothing more we can learn, and the horror un- nerves me. Hold the light, dear, while I replace the lid of the chest.'
 It required my utmost effort to ac- complish this. I was glad to have the thing hidden, to escape the stare of those fixed eyes, the death smile of those red lips. It was no longer a reality hut dream of delirium; I dare not think or speculate-my only desire being to get away, to get Dor othy away. In absolute terror I drew her with me to the open door-then stopped, paralyzed; the half revealed figure of a man appeared on the cabin stairs.
 "Stopl Who are you?"
 Watkins, sir. I came below to call you There's sumthin' bloomin' odd takin' place out there in the fog, Cap- tain Carlyle. We want yer on deck, sir, right away"