Miss Sarah Liverage had taken herself out of the reach of all further communication in regard to the hidden treasure. Leopold had no hope of being able to see or hear from her. She had not sent him her last address, and he had used all the means in his power to carry out the terms of the agreement. He considered himself, therefore, released from all responsibility, so far as she was concerned. But even then he did not feel like going to High Rock and taking the money for his own or his father's use. He could not get rid of the idea that the money belonged to somebody. If Wallbridge had saved this money from the earnings of two years in Cuba, it certainly ought to go to his heirs, now that he was dead.

The remarks of Harvey Barth in his diary[Pg 161] seemed to indicate that the passenger had committed some crime, or at least that he was open to the suspicion of having done so. Leopold considered, whether this might not be the reason why no one had yet claimed any relationship to him. The young man was sorely perplexed in regard to his duty in the matter; and he was really more afraid of doing wrong than he was of losing twelve hundred dollars in gold. He did not like to confess it even to himself; but he was afraid that his father's views, if he told him about the hidden treasure, might he looser than his own. He believed that the landlord was even more honest than the majority of men; but, after he had commenced upon the extensive improvements of the hotel, the son feared that the father might be tempted to do what was not exactly right.

While all these questions remained unsettled in the mind of Leopold, he did nothing to recover the money, until the hotel was nearly completed. In fact, he had no time to do so, for his father kept him busy from morning till night, and then he was so tired that he did not even feel like reading the diary. After he had[Pg 162] obtained the important facts in regard to the buried money, he did not feel any further interest in the journal of Harvey Barth. He had tried to read portions of it; but each day commenced with a detailed account of the writer's health, with remarks on the weather, and similar topics, which did not hold the attention of the young man. The enlargement of the hotel was a subject which engrossed his whole mind, after the novelty of finding the diary had worked itself off. He was deeply interested in the progress of the work; and when the putting up of the partitions gave form and shape to the interior, not many other matters occupied his mind.

The mechanics finished their labors, and the hotel was ready to receive the new furniture which had been purchased for it. Leopold was busier than ever, and hardly a thought of the hidden treasure came to his mind. He put down carpets and put up bedsteads, till he was nearly worn out with hard work, though the excitement of seeing the various apartments of the new house assume their final aspect prevented him from feeling the fatigue of his labor.[Pg 163] By the middle of June everything was ready for the reception of guests, though not many of them were expected to arrive till the middle of July. Now the hotel was called the "Sea Cliff House," and its opening was advertised in the principal cities of New York and New England. As the Island Hotel lost its "trade" and the new house obtained it all, Ethan Wormbury was correspondingly angry.

As usually happens to those who rebuild and remodel private or public houses, the expense far exceeded the estimates. The war of the rebellion was in progress, and the prices of everything in the shape of building material and furniture had fearfully increased. The nine thousand dollars which Mr. Bennington had on hand to pay his bills, was exhausted long before the work was completed. The landlord was sorely troubled, and he went to Squire Wormbury to obtain a further loan on his property; but the money-lender declared that he would not risk another dollar on the security. Then Mr. Bennington mortgaged his furniture for two thousand dollars,—all he could obtain on it,—in order to relieve the pressure upon him; but[Pg 164] even then the "floating debt" annoyed him very seriously. He had always paid his bills promptly, and kept out of debt, so that his present embarrassment was doubly annoying to him, on account of its novelty. With all his mind, heart and soul he regretted that he had undertaken the great enterprise, and feared that it would end in total ruin to him.

The landlord talked freely with his wife and Leopold about his embarrassments, and the son suffered quite as much as the father on account of them. There were guests enough in the hotel to have met the expenses of the old establishment, but not of the new one; and the landlord found it difficult even to pay the daily demands upon him. He was almost in despair, and a dollar seemed larger to him now than ever before, and hardly a single one of them would stay in his pocket over night. The interest on the mortgage note would be due on the first of July, and Mr. Bennington knew not where to obtain the first dollar with which to pay it. The landlord was in great distress, for he knew that Squire Moses was as relentless as death itself, and would show him no mercy.[Pg 165]

"I don't see but I must fail," said Mr. Bennington, with a deep sigh, as the day of payment drew near.

"Fail, father!" exclaimed Leopold.

"That will be the end of it all. If I don't pay my interest on the day it is due, Squire Wormbury will foreclose his mortgage, and take possession of the house," groaned the landlord.

"Can't something be done, father?" asked the son.

"I don't know what I can do, I have borrowed of everybody who will lend me a dollar. With one good season I could pay off every dollar I owe, except Squire Wormbury's mortgage. It seems hard to go to the wall just for the want of a month's time. I am sure I shall make money after the season opens, for I have engaged half the rooms in the house after the middle of July. Half a dozen families from Chicago are coming then, and when I was in Boston a dozen people told me they would come here for the summer."

"I think you will find some way to raise the money, father," added Leopold, more hopeful than his father.[Pg 166]

"I don't see where it is coming from. The bank won't discount any more for me. I feel like a beggar already; and all for the want of a month's time."

Leopold was very sad; but in this emergency he thought of the hidden treasure of High Rock. But he had already made up his mind that this money did not belong to him. He even felt that it would be stealing for him to take it. In his father's sore embarrassment he was tempted to appropriate the treasure, and let him use it as a loan. But then, if his father should fail, and the heirs of Wallbridge should appear, he could not satisfy them, or satisfy his own conscience.

But the temptation was very great; and the next time he went out alone in the Rosabel, he visited the beach under High Rock. It was the first time he had been there this season. He landed, and commenced the search for the projecting rock which was shaped like a coffin. He walked from one end of the beach to the other, without discovering any rock which answered to Harvey Barth's description. He started to retrace his steps, remembering that[Pg 167] the writer of the journal had been unable to observe the singular form of the rock after he had changed his position. The tide was low, and he walked on the edge of the water; but by going in this direction he had no better success. After spending an hour in looking for it, he could discover no rock which looked like the emblem of death. He returned to Rockhaven, almost convinced that Harvey Barth had imagined the scene he had described in his diary.

The next day, just at dark, a thunder-storm, the first of the season, came up. The weather had been warm and sultry for a week, and the farmers declared that the season was a fortnight earlier than usual. The roaring thunder and the flashing lightning reminded Leopold of the scene described in Harvey's journal, and especially of the burying of the twelve hundred dollars in gold. Without saving anything to any one of his intention, he left the hotel, and embarked in the Rosabel, with no dread of the rain, or a squall. There was wind enough to take him down as far as the ledges, and then it suddenly subsided. Leopold furled his mainsail, for the calm indicated a coming squall. It[Pg 168] wanted an hour of high tide, and he anchored the Rosabel at a considerable distance from the shore, paying out the cable till the stern of the boat was in water not more than three feet deep. Pulling upon the rope till he was satisfied that the anchor had hooked upon one of the sharp rocks below the beach, he prepared to go on shore. The beach sloped so sharply that the sands were not more than twenty feet from the stern of the Rosabel.

It was now quite dark, but the scene was frequently lighted up by the sharp lightning. The tide had risen so that the water was within a rod of the cliffs. Taking an oar in his hand, he planted the blade end of it in the water as far as he could reach from the stern, and grasping the other end, he made a flying leap with its aid, and struck at a spot where the water was only knee-deep. He had scarcely reached the beach before the squall came; but it blew out of the north-west, so that the Rosabel was pa............