r life. Because the men of the house were always at war
during those troublesome times, the guardianship went to the eldest
daughter if she were a maiden. By high and solemn ceremony she was
married to the Luck in the chapel of Lorne. And she was the Bride of the
Luck until death or a unanimous consent from the family released her.
Nor could she marry a mortal husband during the time she wore this." He
touched the ring he held.

"This must be very old. It's the red gold which came into Ireland and
England before the Romans conquered the land. Perhaps this was found in
some old barrow on Lorne lands. But it no longer means anything without
the Luck."

He held it out to Ricky. "By tradition this is yours."

She shook her head. "I don't think I want that, Rupert. It's too
old--too strange. Now these," she held up the earrings, "you can
understand. The girls who wore them were like me, and they wore them
because they were pretty. But that--" she looked at the Bride's ring
with distaste--"that must have been a burden to its wearer. Didn't you
tell us once of the Lady Iseult, who killed herself when they would not
release her from her vows to the Luck? I don't want to wear that, ever."

"Very well." He dropped it back into its bag. "We'll send it to LeFleur
for safe-keeping. Any scruples about the rest of this stuff?"

"Of course not! And none of it is worth much. May I keep it?"

"If you wish. Now let's see what is in here." He drew the second box
toward him and forced it open.

"Money!" Charity was staring at it with wide eyes.

Within, in neat bundles, lay packages of paper notes. Even Rupert was
shaken from his calm as he reached for one. Outside of a bank none of
them had ever seen such a display of wealth. But after he studied the
top note, the master of Pirate's Haven laughed thinly.

"This may be worth ten cents to some collector if we're lucky--"

"Rupert! That's real money," began Ricky.

But Val, too, had seen the print. "Confederate money, child. As useless
now as our pretty oil stock. I told you that things always turn out
wrong in this house. If we do find treasure, it's worthless. How much is
there, anyway?"

Rupert picked up a slip of paper tucked under the tape fastening the
first bundle. "This says thirty-five thousand--profit from a blockade
runner's trip."

"Thirty-five thousand! Well, I think that that is just too much," Ricky
said defiantly. "Why didn't they get paid in real money?"

"Be