CHAPTER XXIIITHE MEMENTO

“Thetreasure!” rose in an incredulous chorus.

“Do you mean that there’s a treasure hidden somewhere about Las Golondrinas?” almost shouted Patsy.

“It is truth,” the girl affirmed. “All his life old Manuel sought but never found. He had the despair, so he was most cruel to Eulalie,pobrecita. How she hated that treasure!”

“Now we know what Rosita meant that day,” put in Bee. “When she said old Camillo had hidden it well. Was Camillo a Fereda?”

“Si; el caballero Camillo de Fereda,” nodded Dolores, then laughed. “Always I think of Camillo in Spanish,” she apologized. “I would say in English: ‘Yes, the gentleman, Camillo de Fereda.’ He lived long long ago. He wasel caballeroof the painting this night destroyed. Iam glad he is gone. He had the wicked face. Hewaswicked; the pirate and the murderer. Eulalie has told me of him.”

“Then he must have been one of those Spanish buccaneers who sailed the seas and attacked English ships about the time when Ponce de Leon landed here in Florida,” declared Beatrice.

“But that was away back in fifteen something or other,” objected Eleanor. “Las Golondrinas hasn’t been the home of the Feredas nearly so long as that. In those days there was nothing here but swamps and wilderness. Do you happen to know just how old this house is, Dolores?”

“Eulalie has said that many, many Feredas have lived here,” Dolores replied. “All knew of the treasure but could not find. It was the secret which passed from the father to the son. Manuel knew it, but he would never tell Eulalie because she was not the son. She knew only from him that there was the treasure for which old Manuel always searched. She had not the belief in it.”

“Then how did Rosita come to learn of it?” interrupted Bee quickly.

“I heard her tell Carlos that long ago she spied upon Manuel. Once, while he wandered in the woods looking for the treasure, she followed him all the day. He lay down under the trees tosleep. While he slept she crept to him and took from his pocket the letter and the small paper. What was written on the small paper she could not understand, for it was not the Spanish. The letter was the Spanish. For the many long words she could not read it well. So she put them again in Manuel’s pocket. But she swore to Carlos that old Camillo wrote the letter and that he wrote of the treasure which he had hidden.”

“Did you tell Eulalie what Rosita said?” pursued Bee with lawyer-like persistence.

“I dared not. I had the fear she might question Manuel. Then he would have had the great anger against Rosita. Then Rosita would have killed me. When Eulalie was the small child, Rosita was the nurse and lived in Las Golondrinas. It was then that she followed Manuel and read the letter. When Eulalie had the age of fourteen years, Manuel sent Rosita away to the cottage to live. Soon after I came here.”

“Rosita couldn’t have liked Eulalie very well. When we asked her about Eulalie that day she raved and shrieked ‘ingrata’ and goodness knows what else,” related Mabel. “I can understand enough Spanish to know that she was down on Eulalie.”

“She had the anger because Eulalie wishedLas Golondrinas to be sold. While Manuel lived Rosita dared not look here for the treasure. When he died she was glad. She wished Eulalie to let her come here again to live. Eulalie was weary of this place of sorrow. She cared not that she was the Fereda. So she sold Las Golondrinas to theseñor, your father.”

Dolores inclined her head toward Patsy.

“Now I begin to see why Rosita had no use for us,” smiled Patsy. “She must have had a fine time hunting the treasure before we came down here and spoiled sport.”

“It is truth,” concurred Dolores. “All the day and often in the night she searched everywhere. She had the keys to this house. She came here much while it was empty. It was then, I believe, that the greatest madness fell upon her. She knew nothing that Eulalie had sold Las Golondrinas to theseñoruntil he came here to live. I remember how angry she was. Still she watched and went to the house when theseñorwas not there.”

“I have no doubt she was tucked away somewhere in the grounds watching when we arrived,” frowned Miss Martha. “We have had a narrow escape.”

“She saw you,” instantly affirmed Dolores. “Itwas the surprise. She thought theseñorwould live here alone. Then fell the rain and for two days she went not out of the cottage. I, also, went not out until the sunshine returned. Then I ran away into the woods. So you came to the cottage and I never knew.”

“It’s strange she never said a word to you about it,” mused Beatrice.

“Ah, no! She spoke to me but little; only the harsh words. It was to Carlos she would talk, but not before me. Now I understand why she was in the great rage when I returned to the cottage on that morning when you had been there. You had spoken of these Feredas and Eulalie. She was afraid you had come here to hunt for the treasure. She wished to frighten you away.”

“Our theory was not as wild as it might have been, Patsy,” smiled Bee.

“I suppose Carlos was hunting for the treasure, too, and so helped along this lunatic’s plans to play ghost. She could never have thought out the idea herself. I shall have Carlos arrested and locked up as a dangerous character,” announced Miss Carroll with stern determination.

“Carlos has no belief in the treasure.” Dolores paused uncertainly. “I will tell you the truth. Carlos will not return. He will slip away fromtheseñorat Miami. So he called out to me in Spanish when he went away with Rosita. He had no plans with Rosita to play the ghost. She only had that thought.”

“Then why did he allow her to do so?” asked Miss Carroll severely. “He knew it. He warned our cook to beware of a ghost that walked here.”

“Carlos hates theAmericanos. Once he was to marry the Mexicanseñorita. She left him and married theAmericano. Now he hates them all. Thus he was glad to have Rosita make the trouble. He believed it was for the sake of him more than the treasure. She told him this. She was mad, but cunning. She deceived him. He is most stupid and easy to deceive. He did not believe she would harm anyone. He thought she had the malice; not the madness. Now he knows, because she sprang at him.”

“Well, I must say it’s the most preposterous affair all around that I’ve ever heard of,” sharply opined Miss Carroll. “To come to Florida for a vacation and be picked out as victims by a vengeful Mexican and a lunatic! It’s simply appalling.”

“Oh, look!”

Patsy had risen and was pointing toward a window.

“What is it?” burst simultaneously from Bee, Mabel and Eleanor. Miss Martha was sitting bolt upright in her chair as though preparing to face the worst.

Dolores, alone, did not stir. She lay back in her chair, eyes closed. Her strenuous watch on the house, her brave run for help through the darkness and the fact that she had never before in her life talked so much at one time, had combined to reduce her to a state of utter exhaustion. All in a minute she had dropped fast asleep. She had not even heard Patsy cry out.

“Why—did you ever! See! It’sdaylight!”

Patsy’s voice had risen to a little wondering squeal on the last word.

Daylight it surely was. Through the windows the soft rays of dawn were stealing, heralding the fact that day was breaking upon a company of persons who had been too much occupied to notice the flight of time.

“Look at that child!” Miss Martha dramatically indicated the slumbering wood nymph. “I should have put her to bed the instant she stepped into this room, instead of allowing her to tell that long story. I am ashamed of my lack of judgment.”

“She wanted to tell it, and we wanted to hearit,” Patsy said. “It’s been a weird night, hasn’t it?”

“Weird, yes; altogether too weird. Go to bed every one of you, andlock your doors!”

“Where will Dolores sleep, Auntie? She can’t go home. She hasn’t any home now. She’ll have to stay with us. Won’t that be fine?” exulted Patsy.

“Dolores will remain here with me. We’ll discuss her future later. This is certainly not the time to discuss it. Good night, or, rather, good morning. Off to bed, all of you.”

Miss Martha fairly shooed her flock out of the room. They departed with laughter, their cheerful voices echoing through a corridor lately filled with sounds of an entirely different nature.

“Enter without fear, my dear Miss Forbes,” salaamed Patsy, bowing Bee into the room in which had been staged the first act of the night’s drama. “The ghost is forever laid.”

Laughing, Bee stepped over the threshold. The laugh suddenly trailed into a gasp. At the precise spot where Patsy had lassoed Rosita lay a sinister memento of the mad “ghost.” It was a long, sharp, two-edged knife.

Instead of a one o’clock luncheon that day the Wayfarers sat down to a one o’clock breakfast. It was noon before they awoke from the sound sleep they were so much in need of after their all-night vigil.

That day there was a new face at the breakfast table. It was a vividly beautiful face lighted by a pair of soulful, dark eyes. Dolores, the wood nymph, had been transformed over night into Dolores, the young woman. Dressed in one of Patsy’s white morning frocks, her heavy black hair rolled into a graceful knot at the nape of her neck, Dolores bore small resemblance to the ragged, bare-footed waif of the night before.

Now those small bare feet which had sped so swiftly through the darkness for help were for the first time in years covered by slippers and stockings. Though Dolores was too shy to sayit this one particular feature of the transformation seemed to her the most wonderful of all. “To go always with the feet bare” had been her greatest cross.

Seated between Bee and Patsy at table her gaze wandered questioningly from one to another of the Wayfarers, as though unable to credit the evidence of her own eyes. She could hardly believe that she was in the midst of reality. It all seemed like a dear dream from which she would soon awaken, only to find again the old life of poverty, harsh words and blows.

Naturally, the Wayfarers had a good deal to say. They were still brimming over with the excitement of the night’s events, the final touch of melodrama having been furnished by the finding of the knife on the floor of Patsy’s and Bee’s room.

Recovered from the momentary shock sight of the murderous weapon had given them, the finders had agreed that there was no use in exhibiting it to the others just then and stirring up fresh excitement.

Patsy reserved it as a breakfast surprise. She created not a little commotion when she produced it at the table for her companions’ inspection, coolly announcing that Rosita had left her akeepsake. The weapon went the round of the table to the tune of much horrified exclamation, as its formidable, razor-like double edge was shudderingly noted.

“I can’t imagine why your father hasn’t returned, Patsy,” remarked Miss Carroll for the fifth time since they had sat down to breakfast. “I am beginning to feel very uneasy over his continued absence.”

“I don’t believe we’ll see him until evening,” returned Patsy. “It must have been daylight before he got through with Rosita’s case. He had two business engagements in Miami to-day. Don’t you remember? He mentioned them to us at dinner last night?”

“I had forgotten that,” admitted Miss Carroll. “It’s hardly to be wondered at. I wish he would come home. I am all at sea about what we ought to do. Now that this horrible lunatic has been removed from here and her villainous grandson has decamped, it is just possible we may have a little peace and quiet. Do you think this rascal Carlos meant what he said to you, Dolores?”

“Yes, Señora Martha. He will never return,” Dolores assured. “He will sell the cottage which old Manuel gave to Rosita and never come here more. I am glad. Now I shall go myself soonto Miami and find the work to do. I am strong and not afraid of the work.”

“My dear child, you will do nothing of the sort,” contradicted Miss Carroll. “You will stay with us for the present.”

“And when we go north, Dolores, you’re going too,” broke in Patsy. “You haven’t any folks now, except us, so you’ve just got to be good and hang around with the crowd.”

“It is too much,” Dolores protested. “I will stay for a little because you wish it. I wish it, also,” she added with shy honesty. “Soon I must go away. I am not the burden.”

“Of course you aren’t. You don’t look a bit like a burden,” gaily retorted Patsy. “Let’s not talk about your going away. Let’s talk about the treasure of Las Golondrinas. Do you suppose there reallyisa treasure?”

“Quien sabe?” shrugged Dolores.

“That means literally, ‘Who knows?’” translated Mabel, smiling at Dolores. “Butyoureally mean, ‘I doubt it.’”

“I have little belief,” confessed Dolores. “Many Feredas have searched but never found. Perhaps, then, there is none to find.”

“I wish we knew something of its history,” sighed Bee. “What do you suppose old Manueldid with the letter and the paper that Rosita took from him while he was asleep?”

“Very likely he put them in the secret drawer,” chuckled Eleanor, casting a teasing glance at Mabel.

“Well, he might have,” stoutly defended Mabel. “I guess I’ll have another try at the old desk this afternoon. If there’s a treasure in this house we must do our best to find it.”

“You girls had best stay quietly indoors to-day.” admonished Miss Carroll. “None of you are half rested from last night.”

“Señora Martha, I have the wish to go to the cottage,” requested Dolores timidly. “I have there the few things which were my father’s. I desire them. When I have them I will go to that cottage no more.”

“My dear, you must feel that you are free to go and come as you choose,” returned Miss Carroll, “except that I would prefer, while you are here with us, that you let me know beforehand where you intend to go. I wish you to feel that I have the same interest in you that I have in Patsy’s friends, Bee, Mabel and Eleanor. If you were to go away without telling anyone where you were going we would be uneasy until you returned.”

“Idesireto give the obedience to you, Señora Martha! It will be most beautiful,” Dolores made fervent response.

“I wish others felt the same about it,” commented Miss Carroll pointedly, yet with a smile, as she rose from the table.

Patsy merely laughed, though she colored slightly at the roundabout rebuke.

“It’s too late for regrets, Auntie,” she declared. “I promise to do better in future. May Bee and I go to the cottage with Dolores?”

Miss Martha, having demurred a little, finally gave a reluctant consent. Patsy and Bee ran upstairs for their hats. Having gone hatless for years, Dolores had declined Patsy’s offer of one of her own.

Presently the three girls left the house and took the path to the orange groves through which they must pass in order to reach old Rosita’s cottage.

Coming at last to the cottage, they saw that the door stood wide open. The two Wayfarers experienced a sense of dread as they followed Dolores across the stone threshold into a big, cheerless room which occupied the greater part of the ground floor. Both had an uncomfortable feeling that Rosita might suddenly appear and pounceupon them. They were surprised to find extreme neatness where they had expected to view disorder. The floor was immaculately clean and the few pieces of old-fashioned furniture stood stiffly in place.

“I had an idea we’d find everything upside down,” Patsy remarked. “Rosita was a good housekeeper even if she was crazy.”

“Ah, but it was I who must do the work,” sighed Dolores. “All must be clean save the windows. These Rosita purposely kept dark with the cobwebs so that strangers might not see into the room. Of herself she did nothing, yet she made me to do all. She was indeed mad for long. Always she feared strangers, but none ever came. It is past. I am glad. Wait here for me. I must go up the stairs to the place where I slept. There I have the few things I wish to take away.”

With this Dolores disappeared up a short staircase which opened into the rear wall of the room and led to a loft. As there was nothing in the ugly bare-walled room to attract their interest, Bee and Patsy presently sat down on a wooden bench outside the house to await Dolores’ return.

She soon appeared, carrying an antiquatedcanvas telescope which she proudly assured them had belonged to her father.

“When we return to Las Golondrinas I will show you the picture of my father,” she promised. “He was the good man and loved me much. Now we shall leave this place. I have the hope never to enter it again.”

Dolores raised her hand in a solemn gesture toward the sky.

“The God in the Heaven heard me pray,” she said, then reverently crossed herself. “He has given me the freedom.”

The trio were rather silent on the walk back to Las Golondrinas. Dolores’ thoughts were upon the great change that had come to her. Patsy and Bee had been deeply impressed by her little act of reverence and divine faith toward the Almighty. In consequence, they, too, were absorbed in thought.

Accompanying Dolores to the room which Miss Martha had that day given the little girl for her own, they watched her unpack the satchel and showed kindly interest in the few keepsakes she possessed, which had belonged to her father. Viewing the faded photograph of the latter, they could trace in Dolores’ beautiful face a distinct likeness to the handsome photographed features.

“Old Rosita could teach us a lesson in neatness,” Patsy said to Bee as they entered their own room. “Emily was so busy, I told her we’d fix up our room to-day. We might as well move the table back to the center of the room. The ghost won’t walk ever again.”

“Come on, then. I’ll help you.”

Tossing her hat on the bed, Bee crossed the room and took hold with both hands of one end of the heavy mahogany center table. As she stood waiting for Patsy to come to her, her hands played absently along the table’s edge.

“Coming in a minute,” called Patsy, who had stopped to retie her white buckskin Oxford.

“Oh!”

Bee gave a sharp little scream. She had felt the wood move under her straying fingers. Something suddenly shot out from the table end. Sheer surprise caused her to take a stumbling backward step.

“Patsy, look here!” she cried out shrilly.

Instantly Patsy left off tying her shoelace and obeyed the call in a hurry. What she saw was sufficiently amazing to warrant her haste.

While Mabel had spent long hours of patient search for a secret drawer in the old desk, Bee had come upon one unawares.

The secret drawer, which Bee’s straying fingers had unwittingly released from its hiding place, projected about six inches from the table end. It measured perhaps eight inches across and two in depth. When closed its front formed one of the carved oblong designs which repeated itself at intervals of two inches apart on the overhanging mahogany strips constituting the two ends of the table. The oblong which masked the secret drawer was the last to the left on the end on which Bee had taken hold when about to move the table back to its original place.

These facts relative to the secret drawer were, for the time being, lost on the two girls. Heads together, they were wonderingly examining a square, thin little book, bound in stained sheepskin, which Bee had snatched from the drawer.

“‘The Private and Personal Diary of one Sir John Holden, Passenger on His Majesty’s ShipDragon,’” Bee was reading aloud from the book’s first page. The words were inscribed in faded ink in a fine running hand.

“Why, this is arealdiary!” she exclaimed. “It was kept by anEnglishman! It must be awfully old!”

“Turn over to the next page,” eagerly commanded Patsy, “and let’s see what it’s all about.”

Holding the book in both hands, Bee let go of it with her right and started to turn the first leaf. As she did so a folded paper slid from the back of the book to the floor.

Patsy made a quick dive for it and picked it up with: “It’s a letter, I guess. Shall we look at it first or go on with the diary?”

“Let’s not look at either, just yet. Let’s call the folks in here and read the diary and the letter when we’re all together,” proposed Bee generously. “It will be more fun. They’ll be awfully surprised to see the secret drawer; Mab especially.”

“All right,” amiably agreed Patsy. “You go for Mab, Eleanor and Dolores. I’ll see if Auntie has had her nap and is awake. If she’s sleeping I won’t disturb her. We may find nothingvery interesting, after all, in this old diary. Anyhow we can show it to her afterward.”

Carefully laying letter and diary on the table from which both had emanated, the two Wayfarers sped from the room on their respective errands.

Patsy returned first and without her aunt. Finding Miss Martha sleeping peacefully, she had foreborne to disturb her.

When Beatrice presently appeared in company with the three others, they found Patsy busily examining the secret drawer which still stood open.

“You were on the wrong trail, Mab,” she laughingly greeted. “Bee beat you to it after all.”

“So I hear. Lets see your wonderful find.”

The newcomers crowded about the drawer, exclaiming over it, girl fashion. They were also duly impressed by the sheepskin book and the letter which, Patsy informed them, had been tucked away in the drawer. Mabel, however, was more interested in the drawer itself.

“It takes up exactly the same amount of space as one of those oblongs,” she cried out, as her observing eyes traveled the length of the table end. Having spent so much time on the antiquateddesk she was naturally much interested in the mechanics of the secret drawer Bee had discovered.

“Never mind the drawer now, Mab. You can play with it later. We’ll leave it open. If we were to shut it, very likely we couldn’t open it again.”

This from Patsy, who was impatiently longing to start a reading of the old diary.

“Be seated, ladies,” she merrily ordered. “Miss Patricia Carroll has kindly consented to read you a few interesting excerpts from the diary of one Sir John Holden. Goodness knows who he was. We’ll know more about him after we’ve read what he’s written about himself.”

“I thought you told us you two hadn’t read the diary,” playfully accused Eleanor. “You seem to know all about it.”

“We read only the first page,” Bee explained. “We didn’t go on with it because we wanted you girls to be in on it, too. There’s nothing stingy about us.”

“So I observe. We are nothing if not appreciative.”

“This was the room of old Manuel,” irrelevantly remarked Dolores. She had been silently listening to the girls’ lively chatter, her greatdark eyes roving curiously about the spacious room.

“Itwas!” Bee exclaimed. “That’s interesting to know. It explains why Rosita paid us those two midnight visits. She may have thought Manuel de Fereda had found the treasure and tucked it away in his room. Are you sure this washisroom, Dolores?”

“Si.” Dolores wagged an emphatic head. “Once Eulalie showed it to me. We came only to the door. Still I remember. It was truly his room.”

“Then Manuel must have put this book in the drawer,” declared Patsy. “Well, let’s find out what an English passenger on ‘His Majesty’s ShipDragon’ had to do with the Feredas.”

Her companions having drawn up chairs and seated themselves in a half circle, Patsy picked up the little sheepskin book and eagerly turned to the second page.

“‘August the fifth,’” she began, then gave a little amazed gasp. “Girls,” she said in awed tones, “this date is ‘sixteenhundred and eighteen!’”

A murmur of surprise ascended at this announcement.

“Go on, Patsy,” urged Bee. “What happenedon August the fifth, sixteen hundred and eighteen?”

“‘One hour after sunrise,’” Patsy resumed, “‘we weighed anchor and blessed by a fair wind we set sail from the port of Southampton, bound for Virginia, His Most Gracious Majesty’s colony in the New World, which, by the aid and mercy of God, we hope to reach in safety and before many weeks have elapsed. It is now evening and the good wind still continues to fill theDragon’ssails. I shall retire at once as the events of the day have been somewhat fatiguing.’”

“That’s all for August the fifth,” she said. “The next is August the tenth, so it’s really a journal instead of a diary.”

“This John Holden probably intended to keep a diary and then didn’t,” surmised Bee.

“How funny!” ejaculated Patsy. “That’s almost exactly what he’s written. Listen:

“‘My original intention consisted in the resolve to chronicle faithfully the events of each day. I am deeply regretful that divers matters have completely engaged my attention which have thus caused it to be impossible for me to perform this duty which I laid upon myself. Thus far the Almighty hath indeed favored us.We were for a day becalmed, but since that time we have encountered exceptionally favoring winds, which have steadily furthered us on our course. If Providence wills a continuation of this remarkably fine weather we shall accomplish the voyage sooner, perhaps, than we had the temerity to hope.’”

“He certainly used a lot of words to express himself,” smiled Eleanor.

“Long words and lots of them were the fashion in those days,” commented Bee. “Go on, Patsy.”

“‘August the twelfth. The fine weather still prevails. We are inspired to believe that God is with us. Among the hundred and ten males on board our good ship, not one now suffereth the slightest indisposition. During the first three days of the voyage a small number were afflicted with the malady of seasickness, which is grievously unpleasant in that it is attended by extreme nauseation of the stomach. Fortunately this annoying complaint is always of short duration. All those thus distressed have recovered and appear to be in better health than ever. I trust that this felicitous state of affairs may continue.

“‘August the twentieth: This day a sad accident occurred. By some dire mischance one ofour crew, a faithful fellow but one whose clumsiness I have frequently noted, fell overboard. Immediately our captain bestirred himself to accomplish his rescue, but in vain. Being a poor swimmer, the unfortunate fellow was unable to sustain himself above the waves until succor came, and thus perished in the sea before our very eyes. I trust that this distressing event is not a forerunner of greater disaster. The crew, who are inclined somewhat toward silly superstition, appear to regard it as an ill omen.

“‘August the twenty-ninth: Our favoring winds have ceased to blow. This day we have made no progress worth recording. As I gazed out over the vast expanse of ocean this evening, during the setting of the sun, I was reminded of the words of the beloved Apostle John: “And I saw a sea of glass mingled with fire.” We should give thanks devoutly, inasmuch as while we are thus irritatingly becalmed, such a condition is to be preferred to foul weather and heavy seas.

“‘September the fourth: After five days of such feeble progress as maketh the heart sick, we are speeding forward once more under billowing sails. On board ship all are in excellent spirits at this welcome dispensation of divine Providence.We now entertain high hopes of reaching our destination ere the coming of the dreaded equinoctial gales which are well able to send the stoutest ship to the bottom of the sea.

“‘I fear these tempests far more than the possibility that we may be attacked by the Spanish. We are, I believe, well prepared to meet the Spanish villains and worst them, should they appear against us. We have on board theDragonno mean defense in the way of cannon, powder, some hundred rounds of great artillery and divers small armament. All this, of course, being vitally necessary, inasmuch as among us we are possessed of enough in the way of gold, silver and precious stones to excite the greed of these inhuman cut-throats should they get wind of our coming.’”

“This is getting wildly interesting!” exclaimed Bee. “At last we have with us atreasure. I believe it must be the treasure of Las Golondrinas, else why would old Manuel have kept this diary hidden away?”

“But this ship, theDragon, was bound for Virginia, not Florida,” reminded Mabel. “I don’t see much connection between this John Holden’s diary and Las Golondrinas. Besides, there couldn’t have been such a place as Las Golondrinas at the time he made this voyage.”

“Stop interrupting me and maybe we’ll find out something more about things,” laughingly rebuked Patsy. “The next entry is as follows:

“‘September the fifteenth: Until yesterday all progressed with such remarkable serenity that I had nothing of import to inscribe upon the pages of this book. Last evening at sunset we encountered a small Spanish galleon which villainously opened fire upon us, killing two of our crew and slightly wounding four others. Our master gunner immediately retaliated with a fierceness of fire which presently caused our enemy to abandon the attack and sail away with all speed. When the retreating galleon had become but a distant speck on the wide sea we gathered on deck and offered our profound thanks to God for his mercy in thus preserving us from our enemies. May He continue thus to bestow his favor upon us.

“‘September the sixteenth: This day we committed to the depths of the ocean the bodies of the two poor fellows, slain by the dastardly Spanish. We buried them with such honors and reverence as befitted the brave death which they had suffered. I have hopes that those who received wounds will quickly recover. Our hearts are exceedingly heavy over the loss of two excellentmen, both having ever been sober, industrious, God-fearing fellows.

“‘September the twentieth: According to the reckonings, which, for my own satisfaction, I have computed privately with the utmost carefulness, we are still many hundred miles from land. Since morning the wind hath risen to a considerable strength and velocity. The sky to-night presents a lowering aspect, thus causing us to entertain dark misgivings. The sea is becoming tumultuous and the height of the waves is greater than at any time since we embarked upon this voyage. I fear that we shall yet taste the fury of the equinoctial gales. I believe to-day’s change but heralds the commencement of this trial. We must be of stout heart and ready arm, placing our trust in the Almighty who hath thus far so abundantly safeguarded us.

“‘September the thirtieth: We have fallen upon evil days. I sadly mistrust that it will be long ere our eyes behold the goodly colony of Virginia. On the night of September the twenty-first the storm, which I had rightly predicted, burst fiercely upon us. Against the fury of the blast and the seas which rose mountain-high to engulf us, theDragonprevailed only by a miracle wrought by Providence.

“‘For three days we labored in the teeth of the tempest, which ripped bare certain of our masts and flung us far off our course. Since then the wind hath continued to blow with exceeding roughness, and the waves yet remain of unpleasant height. Day upon day hath seen our ship tossed about like a cork on the waters.

“‘My private computations lead me to entertain the dismaying apprehension that we must be very far south of Virginia. Ere long I fear we shall see the coast of that debatable land, Florida, which harboreth the inhuman Spaniard. Should this misfortune encompass us we shall find ourselves hard put to escape falling into their clutches, for their pirate ships continually scour the southern waters in quest of rich booty.

“‘October the fourth: This morning we sighted land and were concerned altogether as to what should be our course of action. A fairly stiff breeze drove us steadily toward shore until we could plainly distinguish white sands and a profuseness of tropical vegetation that accordeth well with the faithful description of Florida made public by that gallant knight, Sir Walter Raleigh, whom His Majesty hath so illy recompensed for his great services. The warmth of the atmosphere also tended to confirm our judgment.

“‘Whereas our good ship had suffered hard buffeting by wind and sea, we took counsel together and were of one mind that we should proceed toward shore and drop anchor until we could encompass such labor as was needful to render the ship seaworthy once more. For we were desirous of turning theDragonabout in order to pursue a course due north which would, after many days, bring us to Virginia. And we weighed carefully the peril in which we stood that we might at any hour be attacked by hostile galleons and mayhap find ourselves overwhelmed and delivered into the cruel and merciless hands of the Spaniard. Yet we knew that we had no choice save to incur this hazard. Now it draweth toward sunset. This day we have labored diligently and accomplished much. Neither have we been molested.’”

“The next entry is so dim I can hardly make it out,” Patsy announced. “It looks as though it might have been written in pencil. I didn’t know there were any lead pencils as early as 1618.”

“There were, though,” Bee affirmed. “I remember reading in a magazine awhile ago that the first lead pencils were made in fifteen hundred and something. I can’t recall the exact date.”

“Well, I’m sure this was written in pencil,” returned Patsy. “Don’t be impatient if I stumble a little in reading the entry for it’s awfully dim.”

“Do go on,” implored Eleanor. “We’re keyed up to a high pitch of suspense to hear what happened next.”

“‘October the fifth,’” Patsy obediently resumed. “‘This morning at sunrise we were attacked by a Spanish galleon which inflicted sore injuries to our good ship. Yet we rendered such sturdy account of ourselves as to force our enemy to draw off and speed away, I doubted not in order to bring other galleons against us. All that which we accomplished yesterday hath been undone by the divers volleys of shots which the enemy hurled against us.

“‘The galleon having been put to flight we again took counsel. Rather than permit the passing of such valuables as each of us possessed into the greedy fingers of the Spaniard, we made haste to place all together in a strong chest. Each man attended to the gathering of his gold, silver and jewels into a small bag, his name being written upon paper and placed within the bag on top of his wealth. These bags we placed in the seaman’s chest together with a fine gold servicewhich His Majesty had entrusted to our captain, to be delivered to a certain knight in Virginia.

“‘When all was done the weight of the box was so great six men could scarcely bear it to the ship’s boat. To me was intrusted the command of these men, who were ordered to row to shore and there bury the box in the earth against the time when we might be able to return for it. This we did and found for the treasure a secure hiding place and buried it at the true sign of theDragon, which was also His Majesty’s ship, sunk this day, so that we could not mistake it on our return. Our interest was then to proceed speedily to the ship, for we had agreed to weigh anchor and sail away, crippled though we were.

“‘Yet while we floundered our way back to the shore, through well-nigh impassable green growths, infested with loathsome serpents which we slaughtered in numbers, we heard shots and knew that disaster had come upon our ship. So we made haste to gain the shore, but bethought ourselves to hide at the edge of the jungle rather than show ourselves before we had learned the cause of the firing. And we saw a mighty Spanish galleon bearing down on theDragonand knowing that we could do nothing were compelled to lie where we were and watch the unequal fightbetween our gallant ship and the great, high-built galleon.

“‘But theDragonfought on until her masts were beaten overboard and all her tackle cut asunder and her upper work altogether razed, until, in effect, she evened with the water, nothing of her being left overhead either for flight or defense.

“‘Then our captain, who well knew what torture awaited those on board theDragonwhen the Spaniard should set foot upon her, must surely have ordered the master gunner to split and sink the ship. This I believe, because suddenly on board theDragona terrific explosion took place and she broke in two and sank with all her crew and passengers.

“‘Then those of us who survived because of our errand on shore took counsel among ourselves and there seemed naught to be done save to go deeper into the jungle and hide ourselves until such time as we might be safe to come forth and trust ourselves to the mercy of the sea in our frail boat. For we had bethought ourselves when we landed to carry our boat across the sands and conceal it in the bushes. We were convinced that of the two the sea was possessed of more mercy than the Spaniard.

“‘So we lay for a little and watched the galleon which went not away but hovered near where our ill-fated ship had disappeared beneath the waters. Presently we saw that which gave us sore alarm. We observed the putting down of a boat from the galleon’s side, and we counted ten men, all stoutly armed, who quickly betook themselves over the side and manned this boat as soon as it rode the waters. Then we were of the belief that this galleon had been lurking in the waters behind a small but thickly wooded tongue of land to the north of us, this tongue of land forming one end of a curve in the sands which in shape bore the likeness to a new moon.

“‘We doubted not that the first galleon which we had worsted was in complicity with this second. We were convinced that both these had stolen upon us in the night. Whereas the first had been driven off by us, but with dear loss to ourselves. Those on board the second galleon must surely have observed our plight and thus bided their hour to attack us and complete our destruction. And while they thus waited it is certain they must in some manner have become aware of the lowering of the strong box into our boat and this same boat putting off to shore.

“‘And we knew that we were undone andmust seek such refuge as we might find in the jungle. Thereupon we set off in great haste, this time paying no heed to the disgusting serpents which frequently wriggled under our feet and hissed their displeasure of us, though by miracle we were stung by none of them.

“‘Thus we continued to struggle deeper into the jungle with as much speed as we could, and we marveled that we had not yet heard our pursuers behind us. For we were determined to push ever forward until we discovered a fitting place of concealment in the hope that there we might escape being hunted out by them. We were resolved, should they discover us, to fight to the death, for we were well armed.

“‘And after much painful wandering we came into a ravine and found a natural cavern the mouth of which was so overhung with broad-leaved green vines and obscured by bushes as to deceive us at first that aught of a cave was there. And we were overjoyed at this unexpected gain, for we reckoned that even as it had deceived us so it might deceive the Spaniard. Whereupon we severed with exceeding care enough of the vines as would permit us room to pass into the cavern and crept therein, one after another. And by good fortune one of the men had with him a bitof wax candle which we lighted by means of a flint and steel. And we were relieved to find the cave dry and free from scorpions and serpents.

“It is now well past midday and still we are undiscovered. Having naught else to do I have taken my book, which never leaveth my person, and inscribed these facts therein by such dim light as filtereth through a little between our sheltering curtain of vines. If, by the grace of God, I survive this trial I shall ever regard this record as of higher interest than those which I have on divers occasions previous to this derived pleasure in inscribing herein. Should we escape the Spaniard we shall be still in an evil case to procure food, and defend ourselves against wild beasts and savages. These last we have not yet seen, yet I doubt not their presence in this untamed wilderness which now encompasseth us. We are resolved to be of steady courage and good cheer. Our faith reposeth in the Almighty who holdeth us in the hollow of His hand and who will deal with us as He deemeth best. We hold——’”

Patsy suddenly stopped reading.

“That’s all!” she exclaimed disappointedly. “It breaks off at ‘We hold’ with a long scrawl of the ‘d’ as though Sir John Holden had been suddenly interrupted.”

“It’s wonderful!” Bee drew a long breath. “While Patsy was reading that last entry I imagined I could see those poor men fleeing for their lives through the jungle. The queer part of it is that it must betrue. It’s almost as though this Sir John Holden, who lived three hundred years ago, had suddenly come back and spoken to us.”

“Do you suppose the Spaniards found their hiding place and killed them?” asked Eleanor. “Do let me look at the ending of that last entry, Patsy.”

Patsy handed the open book to Eleanor. Peering over her shoulder, Bee, Dolores and Mabel scrutinized it with her. For a time a lively discussion went on among the five girls concerning the book and the amazing narrative it contained. Its abrupt ending pointed to disaster to the fugitive Englishmen.

“I believe the strong box these men buried was the treasure that old Manuel Fereda spent his life hunting for,” finally asserted Bee. “According to description, the place where they went ashore corresponds to the new moon curve of our bathing beach. Don’t you remember how the north end of the curve runs out to a point? The beach goes deep in above there in another shorter curve that makes a natural harbor. I noticed itthe other day when we had the race. We swam just a little way past that point.”

“I remember it now,” Patsy looked up, an almost startled expression in her eyes. “It doesn’t seem possible that all this I’ve been reading about ever happened on the very shore we’ve been using for a bathing beach. If it did happen there, then they buried the treasure somewhere in the woods back of it. How did Manuel come by this journal? That’s what I’d like to know.”

“This journal has been handed down from one generation of Feredas to another,” returned Bee promptly. “What about Camillo de Fereda, the portrait cavalier? Judging from his costume in the picture he must have lived at about the same time as this journal was written. Eulalie told Dolores that he was a pirate and a murderer. He might have been on the very galleon that fought theDragon. He might have been among the Spaniards who went ashore after Sir John and his men. Maybe the Spaniards found them and killed them all and brought back this book to the galleon. I’ve been trying to figure it out and that’s the way I think it was.”

“It sounds very plausible,” agreed Patsy, much impressed. “Isn’t it maddening to find out this much only to realize that we’ll never knowthe rest? If there’s a treasure no wonder the Feredas could never find it. All Sir John says about it is that they buried it at the true sign of theDragon. Now what did he mean by that?”

“Well never know, nor will anyone else. If there’s really a treasure buried in the woods behind the beach it will probably stay there forever,” predicted Mabel.

“I guess it will,” agreed Patsy. “I know we’ll never hunt for it. I can imagine Auntie’s face if I proposed digging up those woods to find it. I wonder what she’ll say about this journal? It’s a treasure in itself. It really belongs to you, Bee. You found it.”

“Yes; but in your room,” reminded Beatrice.

Nevertheless she looked rather wistfully at the little sheepskin-covered book. It was indeed a treasure worth having.

“I’ll offer it to Auntie, Bee,” Patsy replied, noting the wistful look in Bee’s eyes. “We ought to consider her first. If she doesn’t care for it, it’s yours.”

“Oh, no,youkeep it,” protested Bee. “I couldn’t accept it, really.”

“We’ll settle that later. Oh, I forgot! We haven’t looked at the folded paper yet that fell out of the book.”

Patsy turned to the table and picked up the forgotten paper.

“It’s a letter,” she informed. Then her face clouded. “It’s written in Spanish,” she added disgustedly. “You can read it, Mab, I suppose.”

“Patsy,querida, give me the letter,” eagerly begged Dolores, who as usual had played the silent but always avidly interested listener. “I would read it for you.”

“Why, that’s so! I forgot all about your being Spanish, Dolores,” smiled Patsy.

“Let Dolores read it,” urged Mabel. “She can make a much better translation of it than I.”

“Go ahead, Dolores,” Patsy handed her the letter. Eleanor and Bee also echoed the request.

Shyly delighted at being thus importuned by the girls she so greatly loved and admired, Dolores took the letter and scanned it with knitted brows:

“‘Mi querido hijo,’” she read aloud. “That means, ‘My dear son.’ I will not read more of this in the Spanish, but try to tell you of it in the English as I read it in my own language. This it says:

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