It is plausible to assume, therefore, that more than five million dollars in gold and silver are still buried in the sands of the island beach at the entrance of the Zuyder Zee, and that at any time strong gales and shifting currents may once more uncover the bones of the ill-fated _Lutine_ frigate. The members of Lloyd's are daily reminded, by the presence of the massive oaken table and chair and the silent ship's bell in the Committee Room, of the princely fortune that is theirs, if they can find it. The story is a romance of maritime insurance, and the end has not yet been written, for with modern equipment and ingenuity those gold and silver bars, Spanish pistoles, and Louis d'or may some day be carried up the staircase of Lloyd's to enrich a corporation of the twentieth century. [1] "The particulars concerning the _Lutine_ which you have obtained from Martin's 'History of Lloyd's,' can, I think, be considered as accurate, as I believe Mr. Martin had full means of access to any documents which were available at Lloyd's or elsewhere in connection with this matter." (Note from Captain Inglefield, Secretary of Lloyd's, to the author.) CHAPTER XII THE TOILERS OF THE THETIS The _Lutine_ was not the only treasure-laden frigate lost by the British navy. The circumstances of the wreck of the _Thetis_ in 1830 are notable, not so much for the gold and silver that went down in her, as for the heroic courage and bulldog persistence of the men who toiled to recover the treasure. Their battle against odds was an epic in the annals of salvage. They were treasure-seekers whose deeds, forgotten by this generation, and grudgingly rewarded by their own, were highly worthy of the best traditions of their flag and their race. On the morning of December 4th of the year mentioned, the forty-six gun frigate _Thetis_, with a complement of three hundred men, sailed from Rio Janeiro, homeward bound. As a favor to various merchants of the South American coast who were fearful of the pirates that still lurked in the West Indies, her captain had taken on board for consignment to London, a total amount of $810,000 in gold and silver bars. During the evening of the second night at sea, the ship was running at ten and a half knots, with studding-sails set, and plenty of offing, by the reckoning of the deck officers. The lookout stationed on the cat-head had no more than bellowed "Breakers under the bow!" when his comrade echoed it with, "Rocks above the mast-head."