Now the silk gown she wore had evidently been used by its original owner as a festal raiment, for it had been cut low, and had short sleeves. So Matt’s shoulders and arms were perfectly bare, and very white they looked in contrast with her sun-freckled hands, her sunburnt face, and her warm brown neck. Her bust was as yet undeveloped, but her neck and shoulders were fine, and her arms beautifully moulded. Altogether, her friend the painter, could he have seen her just then, would have regarded her with increasing admiration. Freed from the encumbrance of her jacket, she now pulled away with easy grace and skill. Further and further the boat receded from shore, till the promontory they had left was a couple of miles away. Suddenly William Jones made a sign to the girl to stop, and stood up in the boat to reconnoitre. The object at which he had been gazing so long was now clearly visible. It consisted of something black, floating on a glassy stretch of water, and surrounded by fragments of loose scum or foam; it was to all appearance motionless, but was in reality drifting wearily shoreward on the flowing tide. William Jones now evinced increasing excitement, and urged his companion to hurry quickly forward--which she did, putting out all her strength in a series of rapid and powerful strokes. Another quarter of an hour brought them to the spot where the object was floating. Trembling with eagerness, the man leant over the boat’s side with outstretched hands. As he did so Matt turned her head away with a curious gesture of dread. “What is it, William Jones?” she asked, not looking at him. “It isn’t--you know--one o’ _them?_” “No, it ain’t!” replied the man, leaning over the side of the coble, and tilting the gunwale almost to the water’s edge; “Too early for _them_, Matt. If they comes, it won’t be till Sunday’s tide. They’re down at the bottom now, and ain’t yet rose. Easy! Lean t’other way! So there--look out!” As he spoke he struggled with something in the water, and at last, with an effort which almost capsized the boat, pulled it in. Matt looked now, and saw that it was a small flat wooden trunk, covered with pieces of slimy weed. Floating near it were several pieces of splintered wood which seemed to have formed part of a boat. These, too, William secured, and threw down on the foot-board beneath him. “It’s a box, that’s what it is,” cried Matt. “It’s a box, surely,” said Jones. “And it’s locked, too. And look ye now. I misdoubt there’s nowt inside, or mayhap it would have sunk, Howsomever, we’ll see!” After an unavailing effort to force it open with his hands, he drew forth a large clasp-knife, worked away at the lock, and tried to force open the lid, which soon yielded to his efforts, as the action of the salt water had already begun to rot the wood. On being thus opened, the box was found to contain only a couple of coarse linen shirts, an old newspaper, two or three biscuits, and half a bottle of some dark fluid.