rled up in a blanket in the lee of the galley. The girl was harder
to manage, yet, when I left her alone, she lay down on her bed of
flags. Twice later she lifted her head, and spoke as I passed, but at
last remained motionless, while I carefully covered her with an extra
blanket.

The time did not seem long to me as I paced the deserted deck aft, or
went forward occasionally to assure myself that the lookouts on the
forecastle were alert. There was nothing to see or do, the sea and sky
both so black as to be indistinguishable, and the breeze barely heavy
enough to distend the canvas, giving the schooner a speed not to
exceed six knots, I suspicioned a storm in the hatching, but nothing
evidenced its near approach. However my thoughts busied me, and
vanished all drowsiness. I believed I had won a way to freedom--to a
government pardon. The good fortune which had befallen me in the
salvage of this vessel, as well as our success against the pirates of
the _Namur_, could scarcely be ignored by the authorities of Virginia,
while the rescue of Dorothy Fairfax, and her pleading in our behalf,
would commend us to mercy, and reward from the very highest officials.
The money, the treasure, I personally thought nothing about, willing
enough that it should go to others; but I was ambitious to regain my
honor among men, my place of respectability in the world, for the one
vital purpose which now dominated my mind--that I might claim Dorothy
Fairfax with clean hands. My love, and the confession of her own, had
brought to me a new vista, a fresh hope. It seemed to me already her
faith had inspired me with new power--power to transform dream into
reality.

I stood above her motionless figure as she lay asleep, and solemnly
took a resolve. At whatever cost to myself, or others, the _Santa
Marie_ should sail in between the Capes to the waters of the
Chesapeake. Be the result reward or punishment, liberty or freedom,
the chance must be accepted, for her sake, as well as my own.

CHAPTER XXX

OPENING THE TREASURE CHEST

The dawn came slowly, and with but little increase of light. The
breeze had almost entirely died away, leaving the canvas aloft
motionless, the schooner barely moving through a slightly heaving sea,
in the midst of a dull-gray mist. It was a dismal outlook, the decks
wet, the sails dripping moisture, and nothing to look about upon but
wreaths of fog. Even as the sun rose, its rays failed to penetrate
this cl