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The Iron Box
by
All anxiety, his auditors were profoundly attentive while Richard narrated the adventures that had befallen them in the thicket. They were hotly pursued and closely surrounded several times, so determined were the raiders upon capturing the horses, but friendly arbors screened them from view, and the sagacious animals were as quiet as their preservers. On the night of their arrival at the thicket with the horses, Richard suggested that it might be wise to remove the box, since in case the ladies were surprised they might be forced to disclose the secret. Accordingly he and his companion dismounted, secured the horses, and penetrated on foot to the place. What was their amazement to see the smouldering light of a fire and a man stretched upon the ground in a deep sleep. A grey blanket served him for a pillow. Ere they could reach him he stirred uneasily, started up, seized his blanket, and sprang away among the trees. But they were too quick for him, especially as the clinging vine impeded his progress. They captured him, and he confessed that he was one of Baywater’s scouts, and that he had spent two days in the thicket searching for the box of jewels he had seen through the window of the villa.
The young men secured their prisoner, whom one guarded at the pistol’s point, while the other pushed on, buried the box in another place, and then they conveyed the ruffian to Columbus.
“Three nights ago,” concluded Richard, “we were so closely cornered that there was no help but in flight. We rode continuously till our horses were safe on the Lester plantation, but my Bonnie Bess is done for, I fear,” and he glanced compassionately at the reeking animal, his own especial property.
Poor Bess! Ere another twenty-four hours had gone by, her sorrowful master was called away from the villa to see her die of lockjaw. He had ridden her to her death in the performance of his duty.
After his interesting recital the ladies refused to wait till morning to regain the buried treasures. They would go at once, and a number of friends who had gathered to welcome the returned wanderers, and congratulate their prowess, volunteered to accompany the party. So they started, quite a procession, relying upon the lately frequented path to save their garments from rents.
The new spot chosen for the little pit was only a few yards from the original place, and seemed sunken for several feet in all directions–a significant fact as it proved.
This time Charlie wielded the pick, and with such exaggerated force that the earth was loosened for quite a space around the box. Some excitement attended the rescue of the precious casket from fancied peril, and the dense bower resounded with an animated discussion of late events.
Warned by the lengthening shadows they turned to depart when a bystander suddenly peering forward, said: “Look there, Lee. What is that? There, close to the tree. Temple, do you see?”
“The root of a tree, I think,” replied Lawrence, stooping down to examine a dark object that jutted out of the newly opened pit.
Clearing the earth away with his hands he discovered, not a root, but what seemed to be the corner of an iron box. Richard, who was beside him, fell to work, and a further exploration revealed a band of some metal, probably brass. Intense curiosity now prevailed.
“Charlie, go to the house and bring some torches,” said his master. Then to Richard: “We must get at the bottom of this. The ladies had better go–it is nearly night.”
But the ladies would do nothing of the kind. Here was something that promised to be a mystery indeed. They remained till an iron, brass-bound box, not large but heavy, had been disinterred and with difficulty lifted to the surface. With still more difficulty it was conveyed to the villa, where the expectant group waited for a smith to come and open it.