bout twenty rods
from the cabin, they came to a square pile of stones, in a dark wood on
the side of a hill. The old man sat down, and resting his arms on the
stones, continued: "Here, buried three feet below these stones, is gold
and silver enough to make you all rich for life, and perhaps happy.
Churches, convents, ships, and even life itself have contributed to it.
All I now seek is peace in Heaven; and yet I cannot get that with this
gold, for it is the price of crime and death. Take it, take it; and when
my life of sorrow is ended, and these poor old bones shall move no more,
divide it among yourselves; and if Heaven sends you a deliverance from
this lonely island, so live that it may bring you blessings, not curses,
as it has done me."

Three days after what I have described in the above paragraph took
place, Tite and the two sailors returned from the coast and were alarmed
to find the cabin deserted. They waited for a short time, and then
searched the woods in the vicinity, but could find nothing of the old
man. The compasses were there, and his nautical instruments were still
hanging on the wall, and the fire was nearly burned out. It had been his
custom to have supper ready punctually when they returned. There was now
a strange and mysterious stillness about the place. Even the fowls and
the animals seemed silent.

On proceeding to the spot where the treasure was buried, they found the
lifeless body of the old pirate. Old Dunman was dead, and lay there,
with two of his pet goats nestling at his side.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

MR. GUSHER SUSTAINS HIS CHARACTER.

"Husband, dear; husband, dear," said Mrs. Chapman, for I must again
return to that lady, as she addressed her meek-looking little husband,
"how distressing it would be if Mr. Gusher should turn out not to be Mr.
Gusher. He is such a nice young gentleman, and so popular in society. If
he should turn out to be somebody else? He has been such a favorite at
our house, you know. I am sure I should never survive such a scandal as
that. I am sure it would kill me--at least I should faint; I feel as if
I should faint now!" "Pray don't faint, pay dear," interrupted Chapman,
submissively, as she handed him a letter she had received that day from
Mr. Romer. And as she did so, she got up and paced the room in a state
of great agitation.

"Never faint, my dear," resumed Chapman, "until you know what you are
fainting for. There is nothing to be made by fainting