Money Island | Page 6

was a most
welcome boon. For her he had felt the tenderest and most agonized
solicitude. The temptation to acquiesce in the demand of his captors
and thus free her from the trying situation came often to him with a
weight under which he almost broke down. When it was over, the joy
of freedom was as great as the suffering had been while they were
prisoners. He lived thereafter at Charleston, and soon outgrew the
suspicion with which he was at first regarded, of having being
connected with the buccaneers. He determined to settle down to an
honest, industrious life. My grandfather was born soon after.
Captain Redfield was never afterwards known to refer to anything
connected with a pirate in conversation with any one; and I have never
learned whether or not he ever afterwards visited Rindout. I know he
was wealthy; but then he worked hard and saved his earnings, and I do
not believe he increased his store from the hidden chests on Money
Island. The story I have now written he told to my grandfather in his
old age, and, upon relating it, he urged the greatest caution in his use of
it.

Twice my grandfather made unsuccessful efforts to find the chests. He
urged that I, his grandchild, should keep the knowledge of the treasure
as a family heritage; but that I might do as I liked about it. After giving
the subject very careful thought, I have now given up the secret of
Money Island, and have not withheld a single detail which was told me.
Of course, nearly a century and a half has elapsed since the precious
booty was hidden. The story, therefore, is old, but I do not believe it
has suffered from age. Captain Kidd was executed in London not long
after the hiding of the treasure, and his associates gave up their old
calling; and probably no one has since disturbed the precious chests.
* * * * *
Now, as to when I first heard Mr. Landstone's story. It was when I was
a boy in the early forties, and the events connected with its telling have
modified its conclusion, as will presently be seen. I have heretofore
spoken very little of the subject to any one; and when I have done so at
all, it has been to one or two intimate friends as a matter of particular
confidence. In my old age, however, I am going to let my tale forsake
its hiding-place and become public property.
My parents owned a summer home on Greenville Sound not far from
Money Island. To us children it was the very heart of life. The best
pleasure of the year was confined to the four months spent there from
the first of June to the last day of September. We rowed, sailed, fished,
swam, hunted, frolicked, and ran the whole gamut of youthful delights.
Those good days are yet vivid in memory; and it is a matter of regret
with me that my grandchildren--as fine boys and girls as ever
lived--cannot have the same wild, wholesome fun at the Sound as fell
to my lot when I was a boy.
The time that I now speak of, however, was about the middle of May,
the balmy month of soft breezes and bright flowers. I had been
particularly studious in school, and my father agreed to let me spend
three days at the Sound in company with a young friend. We arranged
our food supply, took the old family rockaway, and set out early in the
morning, as happy a pair of boys as ever started on a project of
pleasure.

After spending an hour or two at the Sound house, arranging our
fishing tackle and looking after the boats, which had been hauled up for
the winter, we started out on a sail towards the beach. It was a fine day
for sailing, and the breeze bore us away as smoothly and quickly as if
we had been in a balloon. As we passed Money Island, we observed a
boat moored on the south side, and tried to locate the occupants; but we
could see nobody, and concluded that it belonged to a fishing party
who had, for some reason, left the boat tied there.
We sailed on; and when we had gone perhaps half a mile away. I
happened to turn around, and was surprised to see two men stealthily
embarking in the boat with what appeared to be shovels and rods of
some kind. This sight was too much for our youthful imagination. So
we decided at once to change our course, and essayed to follow at a
distance the movements of the other boat. This we had no difficulty in
doing; and we afterwards learned that we