THE CHEST ITSELF
Mrs. Aldrich's stay did not exceed her limit of a week, but she left
for London with Estelle's willing promise to come to her when the
Thaynes returned to Boston and leaving behind her two girls with
gladdened hearts. After her departure Win's interest was again
concentrated on the coming of the Manor family and the search for the
Spanish chest.
Twice as he came or went from his visits to the library, he saw Pierre
in the distance, once actually disappearing over the cliff edge, but
Easter was close at hand when Yvonne, bringing the usual lunch,
volunteered the information that the Colonel, Miss Connie and Mr. Max
were expected on Saturday's steamer.
Win reported this news with joy and when the day arrived the young
people began to watch for the Granville boat hours before she could
possibly arrive, hoping to distinguish familiar figures on the deck. To
their disappointment, when the steamer was finally detected in the
distance, dusk was at hand.
"I shall do it!" said Roger firmly. "There are three packages and we
may not be in England on the Fourth of July. Besides I forgot it on
Washington's birthday."
Fran and Win looked after him in amazement as he suddenly tore back to
the house and rushed upstairs, spreading noise on his way and
devastation in his room, where he jerked the very vitals out of his
steamer trunk, scattering its contents to the four corners.
Nor was Edith enlightened when Roger reappeared with a pasteboard tube
in one hand, and a box of matches in the other, but Win laughed and
Frances gave a shriek of delight.
"Bed fire!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Roger, I never knew you had it. Do wait
until the boat is a little nearer."
"It will be darker, too," Win advised. "Make more of a show if you
wait."
"I only hope they will know it is for them," said Roger anxiously.
"They'll see where it comes from and perhaps they'll understand," said
Win. "But don't expect the steamer to salute as one at home would."
At the proper second, a flare of red illuminated the end of Noirmont
Terrace, greatly amazing not only St. Aubin's staid population but such
inhabitants of St. Helier's as chanced to be on the water front, and
affording Roger two full moments of complete and exquisite satisfaction.
"Real United States!" he said. "I suppose an English boat doesn't know
enough to whistle--"
Roger stopped with his mouth open. From the _Alouette_ came two
distinct blasts of the steam siren.
"Oh, that's Mr. Max," burst out Win in delight. "He's been in America
and understands the etiquette of red fire. And you remember he said he
knew personally all the captains on the Channel boats. Probably he went
up to the bridge and got somebody to acknowledge our salute! Isn't that
simply corking of him?"
"That was surely meant for us," agreed the pleased Frances. "Oh, how
long shall we have to wait before we see them?"
That very evening Pierre brought a note from Constance, expressing
appreciative thanks for their fiery welcome, the source of which Max
had guessed and which he had easily induced Captain Lefevre to
acknowledge. The note ended with an invitation to tea on Monday and
promised a solution of some kind to Win's theories concerning the
Spanish chest.
"How nice of Miss Connie to set the very first possible day," said
Frances. "I suppose we shall not see them before then."
"Not unless we go to the little old church tomorrow," replied her
brother. "If you want to, and it's a still day, we might get up there."
But the travelers had returned on an evening of clouds and threatening
winds. Easter Sunday dawned with Jersey in the grip of a terrific
southeast storm. All day the rain beat on the panes of Rose Villa, all
day the wind howled and snatched at the shutters, the house at times
fairly quivering with its force. As dusk came, the gale increased to
the proportions of a hurricane. Roger, going out to the pillar
post-box, came struggling back with difficulty.
"I met one of the Noirmont fishermen," he reported. "He said it is the
worst gale in thirty years and when the weather clears the surf will be
worth seeing."
"Fisher told me that a southeast storm kicked up a fine sea," replied
Win. "I only hope it won't stop our going to the Manor to-morrow."
All night the wind raged though the rain finally ceased. It seemed as
though the reputed witches of Jersey were holding high carnival with
the unloosed elements of air and water. Day broke, still without rain,
but the violence of the wind was not lessened. Roger ran out to the end
of the terrace and came hurrying back.
"Come out, everybody, and look," he shouted above the uproar. "The
waves are coming over the breakwater. There isn't one inch of beach to
be seen."
Roger's report was literally true. Though the sea wall protecting the
town of St. Helier's rose twenty-five feet above the sands, the rollers
were breaking beyond the wall on the esplanade itself, the white foam
even running up some of the side streets. Only an inky howling mass of
white-capped water stretched between the town and Elizabeth Castle.
Win, who had managed to make slow progress to a point of vantage, stood
fascinated by the wild whirl of wind and water. The tide was at the
flood and the spectacle at its finest. Just a few moments sufficed to
lessen its grandeur as the waves, yielding to the law of their being,
were dragged away from the land. Presently, instead of dashing over the
wall, they broke against it, and then came a scene of different
interest. The water, forcibly striking the masonry, was flung back on
the next incoming roller, with a collision that sent spray forty feet
into the air from the violence of the shock. This phenomenon was
repeated as the rollers crashed down the curve of the wall, continuing
for its full length, the flying spray looking like consecutive puffs of
steam from a locomotive.
"Look, there comes the train from St. Helier's!" exclaimed Roger,
dancing excitedly about. "Doesn't it look as though the ocean was
trying to catch it?"
The little train had prudently delayed its starting until after the
turn of the tide. As it crept slowly around the curve of the
breakwater, great white tongues of foam constantly shot over the wall
like fingers frantically trying to seize and draw it into the sea. But
always the hands fell back baffled, to the accompaniment of a roar that
sounded almost like human disappointment. The train reached St. Aubin's
dripping with salt water.
"Five stones are torn out of the coping in the wall," reported Roger,
coming back from his inspection of the adventurous little engine. "The
guard says they are sweeping pebbles and stones by the ton out of the
streets beyond the esplanade. And coming down here, he twice had a
barrel of water slapped right at him. He is as wet as a drowned rat."
"The surf must be wonderful at Corbiére," said Estelle. "They say there
is an undertow off that point which produces something this effect of
the water flung back by the wall."
"Why, here's Miss Connie!" exclaimed Frances in excitement. Max and
Constance on horseback were coming down the terrace.
"We've been half round the island," Connie announced after her first
greetings. Well prepared for wind as they were, both looked disheveled.
Connie's hair was braided in a thick club down her back, evidently the
only way she could keep it under control; Max's was plastered back by
wind and spray, for he had lost his hat, and their horses were blown
and spattered with salt brine.
"Oh, but it is grand!" Constance went on. "Corbiére light is smothered
in spray to the very top of the tower. We haven't had a storm like this
since I was a tiny kiddie."
To talk above the uproar of the surf was difficult. Asking them to be
at the Manor promptly by three, the two rode away.
"Why three?" asked Frances as they regained the shelter of the house.
"I think we are going down into the cave," said Win happily. "Mr. Max
told me just now that we were to begin exploring there and that things
would be arranged so that it would not be hard for me. I suppose he and
Pierre have some plan."
"But you aren't going into the cave on a day like this?" exclaimed Mrs.
Thayne, quite horrified at this announcement.
"Why, yes, Mother," said Win. "The tide will be as low as usual when it
does ebb."
"Of course," assented his mother. "I forgot. But how about this wind?
You must have the pony, Win."
"I will if it keeps up, but I imagine the gale will blow itself out by
noon."
Win's prophecy proved correct. When the four started to keep their
engagement, the wind was greatly abated and the only trace of the
tempest was the ruined vines and gardens that marked their road. At the
Manor gates, Colonel Lisle, Constance and Max met them.
"It is to be the cave," Connie said gayly. "Max has things all mapped
out for us."
Arrived at the cliff, the party stopped. Marks of the storm were
visible in one or two landslides and in a great amount of debris
strewing the uncovered beach and rocks. Even large stones seemed to
have been displaced.
Max looked rather serious as he saw so much change in conditions
usually stable. "I think you'd better let me go down and report whether
matters are as I expect," he said. "There seems to have been
considerable doing in this vicinity last evening."
"Let us wait, Win," said Constance quickly. "No use in going down until
we see how he finds things."
Colonel Lisle also elected to await the report, but Roger and the girls
accompanied Max. They were gone almost half an hour and the watchers on
the cliff were beginning to wonder what had happened. When they did
appear, they called to the others not to come.
"'The best laid plans of mice and men!'" sighed Max as he reached the
top of the cliff. "Uncle, the storm has picked up all the stones I had
Pierre clear out of the tunnel and wedged them in tight again like a
cork in a bottle."
"There was a passage and we can't get into it?" demanded Win eagerly,
his face reflecting the disappointment visible on the faces of the
other young people.
"There was," replied Max, looking at him sympathetically, "not merely
into another cave but striking inland. Pierre cleared its mouth and
reported it passable for fifty feet. Beyond that he did not go. Now, it
is stopped as tight as ever. This shows, Uncle, how it came to be lost
to the recollection of everybody about the Manor."
"Yes," said Colonel Lisle. "Very likely it was stopped by a similar
storm a century or more ago. So far as I know there has never been a
legend of any tunnel. But, Max," he added, "there is yet the cellar
where you and Win have decided that the passage enters the house."
"May we knock a hole there?" Max asked quickly. Win had said nothing
more but his disappointment was evident.
"Certainly, if you like," assented the Colonel, smiling. "Only be
prepared for another disillusion when you get the wall down. The
existence of the tunnel doesn't ensure that of the chest."
Max whistled, evidently a signal, for Pierre promptly appeared with a
rope over his shoulder.
"We sha'n't need that now," said Max. He proceeded to add some rapid
directions in French. Pierre nodded, grinned cheerfully and set off at
a fast pace.
"I've told him to get another man and come to knock in the vault wall,"
Max explained as they started toward the Manor. "We may not get it down
this afternoon, but that's all that's left to try. I'm beastly annoyed
about that tiresome hole. Why should a ripsnorter of a storm come on
the one day when it could spoil our plans?"
"It's provoking." agreed Win. "Do you suppose there is really anything
in the passage?"
"Blessed if I know!" replied Max. "The one thing sure is that there is
a passage. There must be since we located one end of it in the cave. If
it hadn't been for that, we might not be permitted to tear down the
wall, but even Uncle is convinced now that the tunnel exists."
"Come and have tea," said Connie as they reached the Manor. "It's a bit
early, but we may as well begin, for nobody knows how long it will take
to pierce the vault."
Max went down to show the men where to work and reported that the stone
seemed soft and inclined to break easily. "This isn't going to be much
of a job," he reported. "I told Pierre to send word as soon as he
struck through."
"What do you suppose the chest will look like?" asked Frances. "Will it
be silver?"
"No such luck," Max replied. "Possibly metal, probably wood, always
provided that we find it."
"You mustn't throw cold water, Max," reproved Connie from behind the
tea-table. "Since we have found the passage, why not the chest? Let's
have it a gorgeous one while we are about it, gold studded with uncut
rubies and the Spanish crown in diamonds."
Frances and Edith shrieked at thought of such sumptuousness and one by
one each expressed an opinion as to what the box would resemble and its
probable contents. Roger decided that the chest was of solid iron,
fastened by seven locks of which they would have to find the seven keys
and that inside would be discovered a complete suit of royal armor.
"I fear that Prince Charles would not have made good his escape from
England clad in a clanking suit of mail," said the amused Colonel.
Just then Yvonne entered with her usual pretty air of importance. "It
is Pierre who desires M'sieur to attend in the cellar," she said,
addressing herself to Max.
The entire party rose, hastily placing tea-cups on any convenient
article of furniture. Roger found the floor most accessible for his,
but with prudent foresight took with him such easily conveyed articles
as the jam sandwiches and plum cake upon his plate.
Down in the cellar, Pierre and McNeil, the Scotch gardener, stood
facing the northern wall just where the newer wing joined the oldest
Manor vault. Before them yawned a hole already two feet in diameter.
With a grin on his face, Pierre thrust his crowbar through and showed
that a space not quite a yard wide intervened before the tool brought
up against what was in reality the outer wall of the cellar. The
partition itself was only a foot thick, but because it was of equal
thickness throughout its length, Max had not been able to detect any
difference in resonance.
"_Bien, Pierre!_" exclaimed Max eagerly. "_En avant!_"
Pierre and McNeil attacked the wall again, Pierre all smiles and gay
glances over this remarkable whim of M'sieur Max, whose whims as a rule
he found enjoyable; McNeil looking perhaps not grimmer than usual, but
as though the whole affair was quite below his dignity. To knock a hole
in a perfectly good stone partition which would require a mason to fill
and put in proper shape again at an expense of solid Jersey shillings,
struck his thrifty Scotch soul as folly. Still, if Colonel Lisle wished
to indulge Mr. Max in this youthful eccentricity, it was not McNeil's
place to protest.
After fifteen minutes a cavity yawned in the cellar wall, disclosing a
passage leading to the left.
"That will do, McNeil," said the Colonel. "That's enough for the
purpose. Go ahead, boys. It was through your efforts that the tunnel
was located, so it is for you to see this out."
"Win shall be first," said Max. "Step in, old fellow."
Pale with excitement, Win took the offered lantern and approached the
hole. Once inside the opening he found that he could stand erect for
the passage ran straight along the cellar wall about three feet wide
and over five feet high. It seemed dry and the air was not musty. Rough
stones formed its floor and roof but the crude workmanship had been
strong and only a few scattered stones had fallen during the centuries.
Max followed with another lantern, and Roger made the third explorer.
The excited heads of the girls were thrust into the passage but only
Frances actually stepped within.
Win went slowly down the gently sloping tunnel, and presently the eager
watchers who could catch only glimpses of shadowy roof and walls in the
fitful light of the lanterns, saw the three stop. In her excitement,
Fran forgot her fear of the distance stretching before her and ran to
them. The next second came a wild warwhoop from Roger.
"It's here!" Max called more quietly.
At this wonderful news the rest entered the passage, the Colonel as
eager as the others. Fifty feet from the opening at one side of the
tunnel was a rough niche or alcove and in it stood a box about two feet
square. Upon its cover lay the dust of ages, and it was scarcely to be
distinguished in color from the stones about it.
"We'll bring it out, Uncle," said Max. "No place to open it here. You
hold the lanterns, Win. Lend a hand, Roger. Go easy; we don't know how
much knocking it will stand."
His eyes almost starting from his head, Roger took one of the handles,
the girls stepped back and in two minutes the party stood in the open
cellar, looking at what was undoubtedly the Spanish chest.
[Illustration: WHAT WAS UNDOUBTEDLY THE SPANISH CHEST]
"Is it heavy?" asked Fran breathlessly, while Pierre went for a brush
to remove the silted dust.
"Rather," said Max, looking boyishly excited. "Ah, now we know the
style of the chest. No gold box nor uncut rubies, Connie!"
Relieved of its heavy coating of dust, the box proved of dark wood,
carefully finished and ornamented by plates and corners of steel. Upon
its cover was inlaid a scroll engraved with the Manor arms and the name
of Richard Lisle.
"Gracious, what great-grandfather bought that bit of bric-a-brac!"
exclaimed Connie, seeing her father's eyes light with interested
pleasure. "It must have been the original Richard himself. Is it
locked?"
Max tried the lid. "No," he said, straightening up and looking at the
Colonel. "It is your play, Uncle Dick. Only a Lisle of Laurel Manor
should open Richard's chest."
The Colonel smiled, stepped forward and with his single hand lifted the
lid. The excited group about him bent forward eagerly.
At first glance a roll of dark cloth was all that appeared. When
Colonel Lisle lifted this, it unfolded into a long-skirted coat
ornamented with many buttons. The fabric was stained and rotten, in
places moth-eaten. Below the coat lay a pair of leather gloves with
long wrists, stiff as boards, and two blackened bits of metal that
proved to be spurs.
For a moment no one spoke. The young people were silent, impressed with
the fact that long years ago these things had been the property of a
prince of England.
With a smile the Colonel looked first at Max and then at Win. "Are you
satisfied?" he asked. "Though the contents of the Spanish chest have no
value in money, they certainly are rich in historical interest."
"Oh, it was the fun of finding it that I cared about," said Win
quickly. "That was the point for me. And I am so glad there is
something in it."
"Let's take it up-stairs," suggested Connie. "We can see so much
better."
The boys and Max delayed to inspect the empty secret passage, following
to the spot where it was blocked by its stopper of stone. Then they
joined the group in the study. In bright daylight, the fine workmanship
on the Toledo steel trimmings of the chest stood out in full beauty.
"The design on these buttons is very significant," remarked Colonel
Lisle, who was inspecting the wreck of the once handsome coat. "And I
suspect that they are of silver."
Examination showed on the tarnished metal the three ostrich feathers
that have marked the badge of the Prince of Wales since the far-off
days of Edward the Black Prince. Below was the motto, "Ich dien," and
the single letter C.
"On my next new suit I guess I'll have buttons marked R," said Roger
solemnly.
The others laughed. A feeling of real awe had been creeping over them
to think that garment had once been worn by Prince Charles.
"Here's a loose button," said Max, picking it out of the box. "The
whole coat is falling in pieces."
"The buttons will last indefinitely," said Colonel Lisle, regarding
thoughtfully the one Max had just rescued. "Thanks to Win's clever
brain, the Manor has acquired an unsuspected secret passage and a
valuable antique; of especial value to me because of the name it bears.
I want you to keep this button, Win, for I think you, almost more than
any one I know, will appreciate it and what it stands for."
Win turned pale. To possess a silver button once the property of bonnie
Prince Charlie rendered him speechless.
"Oh, Colonel Lisle," he said after a minute, "I oughtn't to take a
thing of such value. It belongs here."
"I want you to have it, my boy," replied the Colonel kindly. "I really
am indebted to you, for we have positive proof now that the Manor walls
once sheltered the Prince."
"I should value that button above all things," said Win simply, "if you
really wish me to have it. Only it seems as though Mr. Max had done
much more toward solving the mystery."
"I merely followed the lead you gave me," said Max, who was looking at
him with a very friendly expression. "You played a pretty fine game
yourself, Win."
"As for that," said the Colonel smiling, "Maxfield may have a button
too, if he cares for it."
"Thank you, Uncle Dick," Max replied promptly. "I do value it, but
perhaps for the present, it would better stop with the others."
As Max spoke, he looked not at the Colonel but at Constance, leaning
against the table beside him. Something in their attitude struck Win's
always acute perception. For the first time he doubted whether the
young people of the Manor had been as genuinely absorbed in that search
as he supposed. About Max, half-sitting on the corner of the study
table, about Connie, with her hands loosely clasped before her, there
was a certain air of quiet detachment, as of those who politely look on
at some interesting comedy, but who, as soon as courtesy permits, will
return to affairs of more importance.
"You need not have the least scruple about accepting it, Win," the
Colonel went on. "We hope this will not be your last visit to the
island, but in any case, whenever you look at that old relic, you will
have to give us a thought as well."
Win turned the tarnished button on his palm. Yes, the sight of it would
always bring back memories of the green lanes, the red cliffs, the
turquoise sea of Jersey, not least the hours in the library, the
Spanish chest and the Lisles of Laurel Manor.
* * * * *
AFTERWORD
After the story was finished and the characters were going away, Max
and Connie turned back.
"We have kept our promise?" they asked. "We have played quite nicely
and haven't been silly?"
"You have really been very good," admitted the author. "If Max hadn't
appeared just when he did to rescue Edith and Frances from the tide,
probably the story must have stopped there. And Connie has been most
helpful about lending the Manor house and the beach dog."
"May we play again?" Max asked.
"I think not," decided the author. "This is five months later. You
really must be grown-up now and stay so."
"We have been all the time," said Connie. "We've pretended just to
please you. But since you let us come into the story when we weren't
expected nor invited, it is only polite to tell you what we are going
to do now."
They looked at each other and smiled.
"Every girl who reads this story will want to know," Connie went on.
"It would indeed be very diverting to be Princess Santo-Ponte, but
somehow I think the chances of 'living happily ever after' are greater
with Max. There's nothing at all romantic about marrying Max, but you
might just mention that I'm going to do it."
THE END.