After committing this dark deed, Brand, crouching in the shadow of the bulwarks, waited to make sure that the splash had not been heard by any other than himself.

Assured of this in a few moments, the third officer crawled back to the companionway and descended as cautiously as he had come.

Entering the state room, he made his way to Manton's door, determined as soon as possible, to possess himself of the treasure.

Procuring a bunch of skeleton keys, which he always carried with him, he endeavored to unlock the door.

Vain the effort; not one of the keys would answer.

The rascal then drew forth his penknife, and with some trouble contrived at last to pick the lock.

Entering and carefully shutting the door, he advanced to the chest, which he soon opened with the key belonging to it, found hanging up near the head of the berth Manton had occupied.

He drew forth the box, his eyes snapping with greed, his fingers itching to handle the glittering contents. The box was heavy, being made of iron and rather large, measuring about a foot in breadth and length.

An exultant grin crossed the man's face, giving to it an expression perfectly hideous, as, carefully closing the chest and locking it, he made his way back to his own apartment with the treasure box.

Arrived there, he held the box up before him, and examined it on all sides, but could discover no way to open it.

"Ay, ay," he muttered, "I see how it is. The box has a secret spring, which I must find before I can get at the treasure. A blasted fine way of savin' money. I'd like to feast my eyes upon them shiners again, but guess I'll wait until I get housed before I do so, as one never knows who be a-watchin' him, and my bein' discovered a-counting these pieces, might lead to unpleasant questioning."

He deposited the box in his own chest, upon which he sat down, after locking it.

He had obtained what he coveted, but somehow it did not bring him the expected satisfaction.

The gurgling cry of Mr. Manton kept sounding in his ears with a pertinacity truly appalling! The weird eyes of the man, gleaming and rolling in his head, also haunted the fellow's mind!

He rose, sat down again—then rose a second time, and threw himself upon his berth, trying to sleep.

After awhile he fell into a feverish slumber, and dreamed he saw the drowned victim come up, looking white and cadaverous, with clothes and hair dripping, hanging suspended right over his head!

In his terror he uttered a hoarse shriek, which not only waked him, but also the captain, who came rushing to his door, asking him what was the matter:

"Nothing—a nightmare I s'pose!" answered Brand, with a forced laugh.

The captain, satisfied, returned to his berth and slept again.

Brand, however, could not sleep. He was on deck before morning, when, with an involuntary shudder, he glanced astern, through the flying rack and scud of a gale which was rising.

Far in the distance he then beheld a bright light—a red, lurid glare, apparently shooting up from the sea.

It was a volcano, which for years had not burned, but was breaking out afresh on one of the Esmedura Islands.

Brand thought it was a ship on fire.

"We'd better veer round, then," remarked the officer of the watch.

"Oh, no!" Brand exclaimed, involuntarily.

The vision of Manton's dead body, which might be discovered floating upon the water, rose before his mind.

The second officer informed the captain about the light, when, using his night-glass, the skipper soon ascertained and explained the cause of the fire.

Brand breathed a sigh of relief.

When morning came, Manton was missed at breakfast. Having always found him punctual, the captain was alarmed. He went to the room and opened the door when no answer was returned to his summons, to find the old man missing.

Search was made—of course in vain—Brand apparently the most zealous of all in his efforts to find the missing one.

"He's gone, shipmates, it's my opinion, where's neither weepin' nor whaling," said a voice behind Brand, while he was looking in the hold.

The third officer turned to behold Tom Turk, a queer old tar, with enormous head and body, and short, thick legs.

Brand looked at him, keenly.

"What did you say?" he inquired, sharply.

"It's plain English, ain't it?" said Turk, rolling his quid round and round: "there's neither weepin nor whalin' in t'other land. The old man to my thinkin', was a good sort o' chap what has gone, sir, where p'raps neither you nor I will go, sir, seein' as we've our bad p'ints!"

Brand eyed the speaker steadily, and was satisfied that he knew nothing of the dark deed committed.

Meantime the search was continued, until it was concluded that the old man, whose habit of rousing up at eight was well known, had fallen overboard.

Several months later the vessel arrived at New York Harbor.

Scarcely was she anchored when a boat containing, besides the rowers, a female and a young man, was seen pulling towards her.

The boat was soon alongside, when the young man—a tall, fine looking fellow, sprang out to assist the lady at up the gangway. She was a beautiful girl, with brown hair flowing in curls over her shoulders, a white rose-tinted skin, large, intelligent blue eyes and a form full rounded grace.

The moment she reached the deck, she glanced eagerly round her.

"Where is he? Where is Mr. Manton, my father, sir?" she said, addressing the captain.

The latter's countenance fell; in a few words he explained.

It was a terrible shock to the girl. Pale as death she staggered, and would have fallen but for the support of her companion's arm.

When she could stand alone, he inquired all the particulars of the captain, who promptly gave what information he could.

"Are you certain he was lost?" inquired the young man; "was there no way in which he might have saved himself?"

"I fear not," was the reply. "We must have been two miles from land at the time."

"Papa was an excellent swimmer," faltered the young girl. "He might have reached the land."

The captain, however, shook his head, saying he felt quite certain that his passenger was not saved.

Further remarks were exchanged, when the captain added that the passenger's chest, unmolested, was in the cabin as it had been left.

At this, Brand, who stood not far off, turned aside his head and felt uneasy.

What more probable than that Manton had written to his daughter, telling her about the box with him. Just where he kept it, and how much it contained.

If that were so, however, it was evident that at present all considerations were drowned in the grief and excitement the girl felt at the sudden news of her parent's loss.

With a mute but expressive look, she turned towards the young man, her companion, who at once helped her down the gangway, telling the captain that the chest would be sent for.

"Good riddance!" thought Brand; "I must get away from this craft as soon as I can."

Next day he applied for his discharge, which the captain granted. An hour later, Brand and the chest were lodged at a seaman's boarding house in —— street.

Carefully locking his door and pulling down the window curtains, the third officer drew the iron box from the chest. After a long search he found the secret spring, which proved to be one of the small brass nails with which the box was studded.

Trembling with greedy expectation, he pressed against it, when the lid flew open.

Then a strange cry burst from his lips.

The box was empty!