The Spanish Chest Part 18

"Perhaps I can help," offered Frances. Luncheon just over, the unwelcome Mr. Fisher was due in twenty minutes.

"Oh, you may try," conceded Roger ungraciously. "But if Win stays up there all night, I'll pay him out."

"Mother thinks from Miss Connie's note that they were doing something very interesting and she really wanted him," Fran said lazily, her face pressed against the pane. "How angry and gray the water looks."

"I've a great mind to bunk," said Roger gloomily. "It's not fair for me to work alone all the afternoon."

"Edith and I have been at school all the morning," said the peace- making Frances. "And Win does work when he can; he never really s.h.i.+rks, Roger."

"He _likes_ to study," grumbled Roger. "I don't."

"There are so many things you can do that Win can't," reminded his sister.

"Don't preach," retorted Roger, but Fran's comment recalled to his mind the conversation with Max in the cave. Boy-like, Roger would not admit even to himself any repentance for his short-comings on that occasion, but the recollection served to smooth his present ruffled feelings. Win had worked alone with Bill Fish all that afternoon and Roger remembered most distinctly how Mr. Max looked when he said he was going back to Paris and waste no more time.

"Win is having fun, I'm sure," said Fran at length. "Miss Connie promised Edith and me that we shall come up and sleep in the haunted room some night if we like."

"What's it haunted by?" demanded Roger.

"She wouldn't tell us. Says if we know, we'll be sure to see things. But she is going to have a bed put up for herself and come in with us, so I'm sure it's nothing very dreadful. I'm so glad we came to Jersey just so we could know Miss Connie."

"Some girl," admitted Roger. "But she can't hold a candle to Mr.

Max. He's a corker."

"He is nice," Frances agreed. "But show me your arithmetic. And would you like me to sit in the room? Perhaps Mr. Fisher won't be so fierce if I am there."

"I would not," was her brother's concise reply. "He isn't fierce either; he's merely flappy. I tell you he _is_ a fish. He looks exactly like one of those flatfish we catch down in Maine. Eyes both on one side."

Nothing more unlike the tall, angular Scotch tutor could possibly have been mentioned, but Fran suppressed a laugh as she inspected Roger's problems in mathematics.

"Me doing arithmetic!" he groaned. "And Win having the time of his life at the Manor!"

If not exactly experiencing such bliss, Win was thoroughly enjoying himself. After luncheon in the charming old Manor dining- room with a cheerful fire dispelling all gloom caused by the rain on the windows, the three adjourned to Colonel Lisle's study, where Win placed upon the table his discovery. The Colonel read it with great interest.

"Well, that is a valuable doc.u.ment, Win," he admitted. "It is evidently a page from a letter that Richard Lisle, fourth, wrote to some one and never sent. I am the ninth Richard, so you see how far back that was. Of course it refers to the Prince of Wales, afterwards Charles II of England. It is a curious fact in the history of the Channel Islands that Guernsey sided with the Parliament in its dispute with the king, while Jersey remained royalist to the core. I am under great obligations to you for discovering this paper, for it proves beyond doubt the legend that I have always wished to see substantiated, that Prince Charles came to Laurel Manor."

"Don't you make out, Daddy, that they gave him other clothes and took him to the castle?" asked his daughter.

"Without doubt. Orgueil, or possibly Castle Elizabeth. I believe that the consensus of opinion now favors Elizabeth as having been the prince's refuge."

"What do you make of the rest of it, sir?" asked Win, who was still beaming with happiness over the Colonel's appreciation. "It says in so many words that they put something in a chest and hid it until the trouble was over."

"That much is plain," replied his host thoughtfully. The paper was spread upon his desk and the young people sat on either side.

Win's attention was distracted for a moment by his view of the Colonel's distinguished face, the face of an high-bred English gentleman. With all the impetuosity of his American birth and training, Win felt the charm of this gentleman of other race and another generation. He admired the Colonel's complete repose, his courteous ways and softly modulated voice. They were not in the least effeminate and the empty sleeve and the little bronze Victoria cross bore witness that the Colonel was a very gallant officer.

"I think," began Constance, "that Great-great-grandfather d.i.c.k and his 'Sonne' put the prince's clothes and perhaps some other things in a chest and hid them. Dad, did you ever know of anything answering to the description of 'ye Spanish chest'?"

The Colonel thoughtfully smoothed his gray mustache. "There is the box that came from the Armada," he remarked. "But that cannot be the one referred to, since that belonged to your mother, my dear, and comes from her side of the house."

"Mummy was Irish," Connie explained to Win. "I'll show you that box. It really was washed up on the coast of Ireland and has been in her family for centuries. No, of course, it couldn't be that."

"A Spanish chest does not necessarily mean a relic of the Armada,"

went on the Colonel. "There might possibly be a box of Spanish workmans.h.i.+p, but I know of none in the Manor to which that description could be applied. That big black oak chest in the upper hall is English. The one in my room is Flemish."

"Oh, those are both too big, anyway," declared Constance. "Even men in a hurry wouldn't take a box as big as those to pack a suit of clothes in. No, it was something that could be easily carried and concealed. It takes four servants to move those great arks."

"Then, if there isn't anything in the Manor that answers the description, don't you believe the chest and the things in it are still hidden?" Win asked rather shyly, but with keen interest.

The Colonel smiled kindly. "Sorry to quench your enthusiasm, Win,"

he said, "but I doubt it. Prince Charles landed in Jersey in 1646 if my memory serves. Subtract that date from this year of our Lord. I'm afraid that chest, whatever it was, has long since emerged from its hiding-place. According to the doc.u.ment here, it was concealed only till 'happier times should dawne.' Prince Charlie came to his own again, you remember. This Richard Lisle died somewhere where about 1675. He lived to see the Restoration, so surely he or his son brought to light again the things that there was no longer reason to conceal."

"But, Daddy," said Constance quickly, noticing the look of disappointment on Win's expressive face. "People forget. Let's think of all the possibilities. It says some place outside the walls. And they needed a lantern."

"There is the cave, daughter, at the edge of the Manor estates, but you know all about that. Why, I know that cave myself, I was going to say, every grain of sand in it."

"That's true," admitted Connie. "And of course in all the centuries, numbers of people have been there."

"Considering the brisk trade in smuggling that was done in Jersey during the 1700's, I think the chances of finding anything in the Manor cave are very small," agreed her father. "There is one thing, though, we might look at."

As he spoke, he rose and produced his keys. Swinging back a portrait on hinges, he disclosed a small safe built into the wall.

Win was silent through interest in this novel way of concealing a strong-box, but Constance jumped up.

"What are you looking for. Daddy? Oh, the plans of the Manor."

"You see," said the Colonel to Win as he sat clown again, a discolored roll of papers in his hand, "the original Manor house has been added to from time to time. Let us see what it comprised in the days when Richard Lisle read his Psalter and wrote his letter. It is possible that something then outside the wall may now be inside the house."

"There's a number of queer things about this old place," said Connie, sharing Win's look of expectation. "Max and I have run a good many of them to earth, but there may be something yet.

Certainly we never stumbled on any Spanish chest."

The two young people helped the Colonel spread the plans and arrange paper-weights to keep them flat.

"This comprises not only the house itself but the grounds," he began. "They run as you see to the cliffs of the bay. The cave is there."

"I never knew that," said Win. "Is it large?"

"Nothing like Plemont or even La Grecq," Constance replied. "Those are the show caves of Jersey. There are many as big as ours. It's a rather rough walk, Win, and the cave is accessible only at low tide. I did say something about it once to Edith and Frances, but they didn't understand, and after they were caught by the tide, I thought it would be better for them not to know of it. You see one can get shut in till the next low water. There's no danger because the vault is so high that the tide doesn't fill it. In fact, Max deliberately stopped there once."

"Was he shut in?" asked Win.

"No," said the Colonel smiling. "He was annoyed with me and took that method of expressing his displeasure. I fancy he was a trifle surprised that no fuss was made over his exploit. You see, I knew he was perfectly safe. Connie, I think that path is possible for Win some day when the weather and tide both serve. Well, this is the extent of the original house. It includes this wing where we are and the main portion. These shaded part.i.tions show distinctly where later additions have been made."

"What is this tiny dotted line across the grounds?" Win inquired.

"That? It is a footpath toward the sh.o.r.e and the gardener's cottage. I should say that the present path curves more, but that is its direction in general."

Win was puzzled by this explanation. Why should only one of the Manor paths be marked? That it was the sole one existing at the time the plans were drawn seemed scarcely possible.

"That 'safe place,' if it was outside the walls in those days would probably have been somewhere underground," commented Connie, after the map had been exhaustively discussed. "That might mean that it is now in the cellars somewhere. Dad, have we your permission to explore all the subterranean caverns?"