Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1919-04-16
CHAPTER Xxx.

Opening of the Treasure Chest.
The, dawn came slowly, and with but
little increase of light. The breeze had
almost entirely died away, leaving the
canvas alOft motiOnless, the schooner
barely moving through slightly heav-
ing sea, in tine midst of a dull-gray
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 me to let her go
with me. In the room where the ape
had been hidden we found big chest
and / set to work to open it.
1t proved harder than I had be-
lieved, the staple of the lock clinging
to the hard teak wood of which the
chest was made. The lid was heavy
but as / finally forced it backward
hinge snapped and permitted it to-
drop crashing to the deck. For an in
slant could see nothing within.
Lift up the lantern, Dorothy
please. No, higher than that. What
in Gods name? Why, it is the corpse
of woman!"
/ 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
ffaring candle from it's tin socket and
holding it where the full glare of
. light fell across the grewsome object.
Ay, it was woman, with lower limbs
doubled back from lack of space, but
otherwise lying as though she slept, so
perfect in preservation her cheeks ap-
peared flushed with health, her lips
half smiling. 1t was a face of real
beauty-an English face, although her
eyes and hair were dark and her man
tilla and long earrings were unques-
tiOnably Spanish. A string of pearls
encircled her throat, and there were
numerous rings upon her fingers. The
very contrast added UNNECESSARILY to
the horror.
"She is alive! Surely she is alivele
The words were sobbed into my ear
from Dorothy's lips.
"Alive! No, that is impossible! %
touched the figure with my hand. s'The
flesh is like stone," I said, "thus held
lifelike by some magic of the Indies.
What can it all mean? Who could the
woman be? 1t is love or hate?
mot love, Geoffry. Love would
never do this thing. 1t is hate, the
gloating of revenge; there can be no
other answer-this is the end of q
tragedy"
There was nothing, not scrap Of
paper, not even the semblance of a
wound exposed The smile on those
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 CHASTITY sight. I.
1--WE will never know. The man who
could tell is dead"
Captain Paradilla?"
"Who else could it be? This was
his schooner, and here he alone could
hide such a secret. There is nothing
more we can learn, and the horror I'M
nerves me. Hold the light, dear, while
/ replace the lid of the chest"
1t required my utmost effort to ac-
complish this. l was glad to have the
thing hidden, to escape the stare of
those fixed eyes, the death smile OF
those red lips. 1t was no longer
reality but dream of delirium; I
dare not think or speculate-my only
desire being to get away, to get Dor
othy away. In absolute terror / drew
her with me to the open door-then
stopped, paralyzed; the half revealed
figure of a man appeared on the cabin
stairs.
"Stop! Who are you?"
watkins, sir. came below to cali
you. There's sumthin' bloomin' odd
takin' place out there in the fog, Cap
tain Carlyle. We want yer on deck,
sir, right away"