Macloud went to New York on the evening train. He carried Croyden's
power of attorney with stock sufficient, when sold, to make up his
share of the cash. He had provided for his own share by a wire to his
brokers and his bank in Northumberland. A draft would be awaiting him.
He would reduce both amounts to one thousand dollar bills and hurry
back to Annapolis to meet Croyden.
But they counted not on the railroads,--or rather they did count on
them, and they were disappointed. A freight was derailed just south of
Hampton, tearing up the track for a hundred yards, and piling the right
of way with wreckage of every description. Macloud's train was twelve
hours late leaving Hampton. Then, to add additional ill luck, they ran
into a wash out some fifty miles further on; with the result that they
did not reach New York until after the markets were over and the banks
had closed for the day.
He wired the facts to Croyden. The following day, he sold the stocks,
the brokers gave him the proceeds in the desired bills, after the
delivery hour, and he made a quick get-away for Annapolis, arriving
there at nine o'clock in the evening.
Croyden was awaiting him, at Carvel Hall.
"I'm sorry, for the girls' sake," said he, "but it's only a day lost.
We will deliver the goods to-morrow. And, then, pray God, they be freed
before another night! That lawyer thief is a rogue and a robber, but
something tells me he will play straight."
"I reckon we will have to trust him," returned Macloud. "Where is the
Pinkerton man?"
"He is in town. He will be over on the Point in the morning, disguised
as a negro and chopping wood, on the edge of the timber. There isn't
much chance of him identifying the gang, but it's the best we can do.
It's the girls first, the scoundrels afterward, if possible."
At eleven o'clock the following day, Croyden, mounted on one of
"Cheney's Best," rode away from the hotel. There had been a sudden
change in the weather, during the night; the morning was clear and
bright and warm, as happens, sometimes, in Annapolis, in late November.
The Severn, blue and placid, flung up an occasional white cap to greet
him, as he crossed the bridge. He nodded to the draw-keeper, who
recognized him, drew aside for an automobile to pass, and then trotted
sedately up the hill, and into the woods beyond.
He could hear the Band of the Academy pounding out a quick-step, and
catch a glimpse of the long line of midshipmen passing in review,
before some notable. The "custard and cream" of the chapel dome
obtruded itself in all its hideousness; the long reach of Bancroft Hall
glowed white in the sun; the library with its clock--the former, by
some peculiar idea, placed at the farthest point from the dormitory,
and the latter where the midshipmen cannot see it--dominated the
opposite end of the grounds. Everywhere was quiet, peace, and
discipline--the embodiment of order and law,--the Flag flying over
all.
And yet, he was on his way to pay a ransom of very considerable amount,
for two women who were held prisoners!
He tied his horse to a limb of a maple, and walked out on the Point.
Save for a few trees, uprooted by the gales, it was the same Point they
had dug over a few weeks before. A negro, chopping at a log, stopped
his work, a moment, to look at him curiously, then resumed his labor.
"The Pinkerton man!" thought Croyden, but he made no effort to speak to
him.
Somewhere,--from a window in the town, or from one of the numerous
ships bobbing about on the Bay or the River--he did not doubt a glass
was trained on him, and his every motion was being watched.
For full twenty minutes, he stood on the extreme tip of the Point, and
looked out to sea. Then he faced directly around and stepped ten paces
inland. Kneeling, he quickly dug with a small trowel a hole a foot deep
in the sand, put into it the package of bills, wrapped in oil-skin,
and replaced the ground.
"There!" said he, as he arose. "Pirate's gold breeds pirate's ways. May
we have seen the last of you--and may the devil take you all!"
He went slowly back to his horse, mounted, and rode back to town. They
had done their part--would the thieves do theirs?
Adhering strictly to the instructions, Croyden and Macloud left
Annapolis on the next car, caught the boat at Baltimore, and arrived in
Hampton in the evening, in time for dinner. They stopped a few minutes
at Ashburton, to acquaint Captain Carrington with their return, and
then went on to Clarendon.
Both men were nervous. Neither wanted the other to know and each
endeavored to appear at ease.
Croyden gave in first. He threw his cigarette into his coffee cup, and
pushed his chair back from the table.
"It's no use, Colin!" he laughed. "You're trying to appear nonchalant,
and you're doing it very well, too, but you can't control your fingers
and your eyes--and neither can I, I fancy, though I've tried hard
enough, God knows! We are about all in! These four days of strain and
uncertainty have taken it all out of us. If I had any doubt as to my
affection for Elaine, it's vanished, now.----I don't say I'm fool
enough to propose to her, yet I'm scarcely responsible, at present. If
I were to see her this minute, I'd likely do something rash."
"You're coming around to it, gradually," said Macloud.
"Gradually! Hum! I don't know about the 'gradually.' I want to pull
myself together--to get a rein on myself--to--what are you smiling at;
am I funny?"
"You are!" said Macloud. "I never saw a man fight so hard against his
personal inclinations, and a rich wife. You don't deserve her!--if I
were Elaine, I'd turn you down hard, hard."
"Thank God! you're not Elaine!" Croyden retorted.
"And hence, with a woman's unreasonableness and trust in the one she
loves, she will likely accept you."
"How do you know she loves me?"
Macloud blew a couple of smoke rings and watched them sail upward.
"I suppose you're equally discerning as to Miss Carrington, and her
love for you," Croyden commented.
"I regret to say, I'm not," said Macloud, seriously. "That is what
troubles me, indeed. Unlike my friend, Geoffrey Croyden, I'm perfectly
sure of my own mind, but I'm not sure of the lady's."
"Then, why don't you find out?"
"Exactly what I shall do, when she returns."
"It's sure as fate!" said Croyden.
"Thanks! We each seem to be able to answer the other's uncertainty," he
remarked, calmly.
Presently, Macloud arose.
"I'm going over to Ashburton, and talk with the Captain a little--sort
of cheer him up. Come along?"
Croyden shook his head.
"Go on!" said he. "It's a very good occupation for you, sitting up to
the old gent. I'll give you a chance by staying away, to-night. Make a
hit with grandpa, Colin, make a hit with grandpa!"
"And you make a hit with yourself--get rid of your foolish theory, and
come down to simple facts," Macloud retorted, and he went out.
"Get rid of your foolish theory," Croyden soliloquized. "Well,
maybe--but _is_ it foolish, that's the question? I'm poor, once
more--I've not enough even for Elaine Cavendish's husband--there's the
rub! she won't be Geoffrey Croyden's wife, it's I who will be Elaine
Cavendish's husband. 'Elaine Cavendish _and her husband_ dine with us
to-night!'--'Elaine Cavendish _and her husband_ were at the horse
show!' 'Elaine Cavendish _and her husband_ were here!--or there!--or
thus and so!'"
He could not endure it. It would be too belittling, too disparaging of
self-respect.--Elaine Cavendish's husband!--Elaine Cavendish's
husband! Might he out-grow it--be known for himself? He glanced up at
the portrait of the gallant soldier of a lost cause, with the high-bred
face and noble bearing.
"You were a brave man, Colonel Duval!" he said. "What would you have
done?"
He took out a cigar, lit it very deliberately, and fell to thinking....
Presently, worn out by fatigue and anxiety, he dozed....
* * * * *
And as he dozed, the street door opened softly, a light step crossed
the hall, and Elaine Cavendish stood in the doorway.
She was clad in black velvet, trimmed in sable. Her head was bare. A
blue cloak was thrown, with careless grace, about her gleaming
shoulders. One slender hand lifted the gown from before her feet. She
saw the sleeping man and paused, and a smile of infinite tenderness
passed across her face.
A moment she hesitated, and at the thought, a faint blush suffused her
face. Then she glided softly over, bent and kissed him on the lips.
He opened his eyes, and sprang up! Startled! She was there, before him,
the blush still on cheek and brow.
"Elaine! sweetheart!" he cried. And, straightway took her, unresisting,
in his arms....
"Tell me all about yourself," he said, at last, drawing her down into
the chair and seating himself on the arm. "Where is Miss
Carrington--safe?"
"Colin's with her--I reckon she's safe!" smiled Elaine. "It won't be
his fault if she isn't, I'm sure.--I left them at Ashburton, and came
over here to--you."
"Alone!" said Croyden, bending over her.
She nodded, eyes half downcast.
"You foolish girl!"
"I'll go back at once----"
He laughed, joyously.
"Not yet a little while!" and bent again.
"Geoffrey! you're dreadful!" she exclaimed, half smothered. "My hair,
dear,--do be careful!"
"I'll be good--if you will kiss me again!" he said.
"But you're not asleep," she objected.
"That's why I want it."
"And you will promise--not to kiss me again?"
"For half an hour."
"Honest?"
"Honest."
She looked up at him tantalizingly, her red lips parted, her bosom
fluttering below.
"If it's worth coming half way for, sweetheart--you may," she said....
"Now, if you're done with foolishness--for a little while," she said,
gayly, "I'll tell you how we managed to get free."
"You know why you were abducted?" he asked.
"Oh, yes!--the Parmenter jewels. Davila told me the story, and how you
didn't find them, though our abductors think you did, and won't believe
otherwise."
"You suffered no hurt?" he asked, sharply.
"None--we were most courteously treated; and they released us, as
quickly as the check was paid."
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
"I mean, that I gave them my check for the ransom money--you hadn't the
jewels, you couldn't comply with the demand. How do you suppose we got
free?" she questioned.
"You paid the money?" he asked, again.
"Certainly! I knew you couldn't pay it, so I did. Don't let us think of
it, dear!--It's over, and we have each other, now. What is money
compared to that?" Then suddenly she, woman-like, went straight back to
it. "How did you think we managed to get free--escaped?" she asked.
"Yes!" he answered. "Yes--I never thought of your paying the money."
She regarded him critically.
"No!" she said, "you are deceiving me!--you are--_you_ paid the money,
also!" she cried.
"What matters it?" he said joyfully. "What matters anything now?
Macloud and I _did_ pay the ransom to-day--but of what consequence is
it; whether you bought your freedom, or we bought it, or both bought
it? You and Davila are here, again--that's the only thing that
matters!"
"Right you are! Geoffrey, right you are!" came Macloud's voice from the
hallway, and Davila and he walked into the room.
Elaine, with a little shriek, sprang up.
"Don't be bashful!" said Macloud. "Davila and I were occupying similar
positions at Ashburton, a short time ago. Weren't we, little girl?" as
he made a motion to put his arm around her.
Davila eluded him--though the traitor red confirmed his words--and
sought Elaine's side for safety.
"It's a pleasure only deferred, my dear!" he laughed. "By the way,
Elaine, how did Croyden happen to give in? He was shying off at your
wealth--said it would be giving hostages to fortune, and all that
rot."
"Shut up, you beggar!" Croyden exclaimed. "I'm going to try to make
good."
"Geoffrey," said Elaine, "won't you show us the old pirate's
letter--we're all interested in it, now."
"Certainly, I will!" he said. "I'll show you the letter, and where I
found it, and anything else you want to see. Nothing is locked,
to-night."
They went over to the escritoire. Croyden opened the secret drawer, and
took out the letter.
"A Message from the Dead!" he said, solemnly, and handed it to Elaine.
She carried it to the table, spread it out under the lamp, and Davila
and she studied it, carefully, even as Croyden and Macloud had
done--reading the Duval endorsements over and over again.
"It seems to me there is something queer about these postscripts," she
said, at last; "something is needed to make them clear. Is this the
entire letter?--didn't you find anything else?"
"Nothing!" said Croyden.
"May I look?" she asked.
"Most assuredly, sweetheart."
"It's a bit dark in this hole. Let me have a match."
She struck it, and peered back into the recess.
"Ah!" she exclaimed. "Here is something!--only a corner visible." She
put in her hand. "It has slipped down, back of the false partition.
I'll get it, presently.--There!"
She drew out a tiny sheet of paper, and handed it to Croyden.
"Does that help?" she asked.
Croyden glanced at it; then gave a cry of amazed surprise.
"It does!" he said. "It does! It's the key to the mystery. Listen!"
The rest crowded around him while he read:
"Hampton, Maryland.
"5 Oct. 1738.
"Memorandum to accompany the letter of Robert Parmenter, dated 10
May 1738.
"Whereas, it is stipulated by the said Parmenter that the Jewels
shall be used only in the Extremity of Need; and hence, as I have
an abundance of this world's Goods, that Need will, likely, not
come to me. And judging that Greenberry Point will change, in
time--so that my son or his Descendants, if occasion arise, may
be unable to locate the Treasure--I have lifted the Iron box,
from the place where Parmenter buried it, and have reinterred it
in the cellar of my House in Hampton, renewing the Injunction
which Parmenter put upon it, that it shall be used only in the
Extremity of Need. When this Need arise, it will be found in the
south-east corner of the front cellar. At the depth of two feet,
between two large stones, is the Iron box. It contains the
jewels, the most marvelous I have ever seen.
"Marmaduke Duval."
For a moment, they stood staring at one another too astonished to
speak.
"My Lord!" Macloud finally ejaculated. "To think that it was here, all
the time!"
Croyden caught up the lamp.
"Come on!" he said.
They trooped down to the cellar, Croyden leading the way. Moses was off
for the evening, they had the house to themselves. As they passed the
foot of the stairs, Macloud picked up a mattock.
"Me for the digging!" he said. "Which is the south-east corner,
Davila?"
"There, under those boxes!" said she.
They were quickly tossed aside.
"The ground is not especially hard," observed Macloud, with the first
stroke. "I reckon a yard square is sufficient.--At a depth of two feet
the memorandum says, doesn't it?"
No one answered. Fascinated, they were watching the fall of the pick.
With every blow, they were listening for it to strike the stones.
"Better get a shovel, Croyden, we'll need it," said Macloud, pausing
long enough, to throw off his coat.... "Oh! I forgot to say, I wired
the Pinkerton man to recover the package you buried this morning."
Croyden only nodded--stood the lamp on a box, and returned with the
coal scoop.
"This will answer, I reckon," he said, and fell to work.
"It seems absurd!" remarked Macloud, between strokes. "To have hunted
the treasure, for weeks, all over Greenberry Point, and then to find it
in the cellar, like a can of lard or a bushel of potatoes."
"You haven't found it, yet," Croyden cautioned. "And we've gone the
depth mentioned."
"No! we haven't found it, yet!--but we're going to find it!" Macloud
answered, sinking the pick, viciously, in the ground, with the last
word.
Crack!
It had struck hard against a stone.
"What did I tell you?" Macloud cried, sinking the pick in at another
place.
Crack!
Again, it struck! and again! and again! The fifth stroke laid the stone
bare--the sixth and seventh loosened it, still more--the eighth and
ninth completed the task.
"Give me the shovel!" said he.
When the earth was away and the stone exposed, he stooped and, putting
his fingers under the edges, heaved it out.
"The rest is for you, Croyden!" and stepped aside.
The iron box was found!
For a moment, Croyden looked at it, rather dazedly. Could it be the
jewels were _there_!--within his reach!--under that lid! Suddenly, he
laughed!--gladly, gleefully, as a boy--and sprang down into the hole.
The box clung to its resting place for a second, as though it was
reluctant to be disturbed--then it yielded, and Croyden swung it onto
the bank.
"We'll take it to the library," he said, scraping it clean of the
adhering earth.
And carrying it before them, like the Ark of the Covenant, they went
joyously up to the floor above.
He placed it on the table under the chandelier, where all could see. It
was of iron, rusty with age; in dimension, about a foot square; and
fastened by a hasp, with the bar of the lock thrust through but not
secured.
"Light the gas, Colin!--every burner," he said. "We'll have the full
effulgence, if you please."...
For a little time, the lid resisted. Suddenly, it yielded.
"Behold!" he heralded, and flung it back.
The scintillations which leaped out to meet them, were like the rays
from myriads of gleaming, glistening, varicolored lights, of dazzling
brightness and infinite depth. A wonderful cavern of coruscating
splendor--rubies and diamonds, emeralds and sapphires, pearls and opals
glowing with all the fire of self, and the resentment of long neglect.
"Heaven! What beauty!" exclaimed Davila.
It broke the spell.
"They are real!" Croyden laughed. "You may touch them--they will not
fade."
They put them out on the table--in little heaps of color. The women
exclaiming whene'er they touched them, cooingly as a woman does when
handling jewels--fondling them, caressing them, loving them.
At last, the box was empty. They stood back and gazed--fascinated by it
all:--the color--the glowing reds and whites, and greens and blues.
"It is wonderful! wonderful!" breathed Elaine.
"It is wonderful--and it's true!" said Croyden.
Two necklaces lay among the rubies, alike as lapidary's art could make
them. Croyden handed one to Macloud, the other he took.
"In remembrance of your release, and of Parmenter's treasure!" he said,
and clasped it around Elaine's fair neck.
Macloud clasped his around Davila's.
"Who cares, now, for the time spent on Greenberry Point or the double
reward!" he laughed.
* * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors;
otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the
author's words and intent.