and it was a lucky
stroke which finished him. Now to complete our work in here and get
out."

I picked up the hatchet, and my glance sought the whereabouts of the
chest. The light was confusing, and she stepped forward, throwing the
dim yellow flame directly upon the object.

"This is what I saw--see; does it look like a treasure chest to you?"

"If it be not, I never saw one--and a hundred years old, if it is a
day. What a story of the sea it might tell if it had a tongue. There
is no way to find its secrets but to break it open. Place the lantern
on this cask of wine; now, if I can gain purchase with the blade, it
will be easily accomplished."

It proved harder than I had believed, the staple of the lock clinging
to the hard teak wood of which the chest was made. I must have been
ten minutes at it, compelled to use a wooden bar as lever, before it
yielded, groaning as it finally released its grip, like a soul in
agony. I felt the girl clutch me in terror at the sound, her
frightened eyes searching the shadows, but I was interested by then to
learn what was within, and gave all my effort to lifting the lid.
This was heavy, as though weighted with lead, but as I finally forced
it backward, a hinge snapped, and permitted it to drop crashing to the
deck. For an instant I could see nothing within--no more indeed than
some dimly revealed outline, the nature of which could not be
determined. Yet, somehow, it gave me an impression, horrible,
grotesque, of a human form. I gripped the side of the chest afraid to
reach downward.

"Lift up the lantern--Dorothy, please. No, higher than that. What in
God's name? Why, it is the corpse of a woman!"

I heard her cry out, and barely caught the lantern as it fell from her
hand. The hatchet struck the deck with a sharp clang, and I felt the
frightened clasp of the girl's fingers on my sleeve. Yet I scarcely
realized these things, my entire attention focussed on what was now
revealed writhin the chest. At first I doubted the evidence of my own
eyes, snatching the bit of flaring candle from its tin socket, and
holding it where the full glare of light fell across the grewsome
object. Ay, it was a woman, with lower limbs doubled back from lack of
space, but otherwise lying as though she slept, so perfect in
preservation her cheeks appeared flushed with health, her lips half
smiling. It was a face of real beauty--an English face, although her
eyes and hair were dark, and her mantilla,