“Why, there’s plenty besides the house,” I replied. “In father’s room,” and I nodded my head toward the door that was always kept locked in the Captain’s absence, “there must be a great many valuable things stored. The very last time he was home he said that in case anything ever happened to him I would find a little fortune in his old sea-chest, alone.” “May be,” rejoined the old woman, uneasily. “I hope _that_ story o’ his’n, at least, is true, for your sake, Sam. I hain’t anything agin you; but right is right. An’ the house don’t cover all that’s comin’ to me, either. The Cap’n owed me four hundred dollars, besides the house, for your keep durin’ all these years; an’ that’ll have to be paid afore you can honestly lay claim to a cent o’ his property.” “Of course,” I agreed, meekly enough, for all this talk of money wearied me. “But there should be much more than that in the chest, alone, according to what father said.” “Let’s hope there is,” said she. “You go to bed, now, for you’re clean done up, an’ no wonder. In the mornin’ we’ll both look into the Cap’n’s room, an’ see what’s there. I ain’t a-goin’ to take no mean advantage o’ you, Sam, you can depend on’t. So go to bed. Sleep’s the best cure-all fer troubles like yours.” This last was said in a more kindly tone, and I was glad to take her at her word and creep away to my little room in the attic. CHAPTER II. I FIND A RELATIVE. It may have been hours that I sat at my little table, overcome by the bitterness of my loss. And for more hours I tossed restlessly upon my hard bed, striving in vain for comfort. But suddenly, as I recalled a little affectionate gesture of my father’s, I burst into a flood of tears, and oh, what a relief it was to be able to cry—to sob away the load that had well-nigh overburdened my young heart! After that last paroxysm of grief I fell asleep, worn out by my own emotions, and it was long past my usual hour for rising that I finally awoke. In a moment, as I lay staring at the bright morning sunshine, the sorrow that had been forgotten in sleep swept over me like a flood, and I wept again at the thought of my utter loneliness and the dreadful fate that had overtaken my dear father. But presently, with the elasticity of youth, I was enabled to control myself, and turn my thoughts toward the future. Then I remembered that Mrs. Ranck and I were to enter the Captain’s locked room, and take an inventory of his possessions, and I began hurriedly to dress myself, that this sad duty might be accomplished as soon as possible. The recollection of the woman’s preposterous claims moved me to sullen anger. It seemed like a reflection on father’s honesty to claim that he had been in her debt all these years, and I resolved that she should be paid every penny she demanded, that the Captain’s honor might remain untarnished in death, even as it had ever been during his lifetime.