"Certainly, if you like," a.s.sented the Colonel, smiling. "Only be prepared for another disillusion when you get the wall down. The existence of the tunnel doesn't ensure that of the chest."

Max whistled, evidently a signal, for Pierre promptly appeared with a rope over his shoulder.

"We sha'n't need that now," said Max. He proceeded to add some rapid directions in French. Pierre nodded, grinned cheerfully and set off at a fast pace.

"I've told him to get another man and come to knock in the vault wall," Max explained as they started toward the Manor. "We may not get it down this afternoon, but that's all that's left to try. I'm beastly annoyed about that tiresome hole. Why should a ripsnorter of a storm come on the one day when it could spoil our plans?"

"It's provoking." agreed Win. "Do you suppose there is really anything in the pa.s.sage?"

"Blessed if I know!" replied Max. "The one thing sure is that there is a pa.s.sage. There must be since we located one end of it in the cave. If it hadn't been for that, we might not be permitted to tear down the wall, but even Uncle is convinced now that the tunnel exists."

"Come and have tea," said Connie as they reached the Manor. "It's a bit early, but we may as well begin, for n.o.body knows how long it will take to pierce the vault."

Max went down to show the men where to work and reported that the stone seemed soft and inclined to break easily. "This isn't going to be much of a job," he reported. "I told Pierre to send word as soon as he struck through."

"What do you suppose the chest will look like?" asked Frances.

"Will it be silver?"

"No such luck," Max replied. "Possibly metal, probably wood, always provided that we find it."

"You mustn't throw cold water, Max," reproved Connie from behind the tea-table. "Since we have found the pa.s.sage, why not the chest? Let's have it a gorgeous one while we are about it, gold studded with uncut rubies and the Spanish crown in diamonds."

Frances and Edith shrieked at thought of such sumptuousness and one by one each expressed an opinion as to what the box would resemble and its probable contents. Roger decided that the chest was of solid iron, fastened by seven locks of which they would have to find the seven keys and that inside would be discovered a complete suit of royal armor.

"I fear that Prince Charles would not have made good his escape from England clad in a clanking suit of mail," said the amused Colonel.

Just then Yvonne entered with her usual pretty air of importance.

"It is Pierre who desires M'sieur to attend in the cellar," she said, addressing herself to Max.

The entire party rose, hastily placing tea-cups on any convenient article of furniture. Roger found the floor most accessible for his, but with prudent foresight took with him such easily conveyed articles as the jam sandwiches and plum cake upon his plate.

Down in the cellar, Pierre and McNeil, the Scotch gardener, stood facing the northern wall just where the newer wing joined the oldest Manor vault. Before them yawned a hole already two feet in diameter.

With a grin on his face, Pierre thrust his crowbar through and showed that a s.p.a.ce not quite a yard wide intervened before the tool brought up against what was in reality the outer wall of the cellar. The part.i.tion itself was only a foot thick, but because it was of equal thickness throughout its length, Max had not been able to detect any difference in resonance.

"_Bien, Pierre!_" exclaimed Max eagerly. "_En avant!_"

Pierre and McNeil attacked the wall again, Pierre all smiles and gay glances over this remarkable whim of M'sieur Max, whose whims as a rule he found enjoyable; McNeil looking perhaps not grimmer than usual, but as though the whole affair was quite below his dignity. To knock a hole in a perfectly good stone part.i.tion which would require a mason to fill and put in proper shape again at an expense of solid Jersey shillings, struck his thrifty Scotch soul as folly. Still, if Colonel Lisle wished to indulge Mr. Max in this youthful eccentricity, it was not McNeil's place to protest.

After fifteen minutes a cavity yawned in the cellar wall, disclosing a pa.s.sage leading to the left.

"That will do, McNeil," said the Colonel. "That's enough for the purpose. Go ahead, boys. It was through your efforts that the tunnel was located, so it is for you to see this out."

"Win shall be first," said Max. "Step in, old fellow."

Pale with excitement, Win took the offered lantern and approached the hole. Once inside the opening he found that he could stand erect for the pa.s.sage ran straight along the cellar wall about three feet wide and over five feet high. It seemed dry and the air was not musty. Rough stones formed its floor and roof but the crude workmanship had been strong and only a few scattered stones had fallen during the centuries.

Max followed with another lantern, and Roger made the third explorer. The excited heads of the girls were thrust into the pa.s.sage but only Frances actually stepped within.

Win went slowly down the gently sloping tunnel, and presently the eager watchers who could catch only glimpses of shadowy roof and walls in the fitful light of the lanterns, saw the three stop. In her excitement, Fran forgot her fear of the distance stretching before her and ran to them. The next second came a wild warwhoop from Roger.

"It's here!" Max called more quietly.

At this wonderful news the rest entered the pa.s.sage, the Colonel as eager as the others. Fifty feet from the opening at one side of the tunnel was a rough niche or alcove and in it stood a box about two feet square. Upon its cover lay the dust of ages, and it was scarcely to be distinguished in color from the stones about it.

"We'll bring it out, Uncle," said Max. "No place to open it here.

You hold the lanterns, Win. Lend a hand, Roger. Go easy; we don't know how much knocking it will stand."

His eyes almost starting from his head, Roger took one of the handles, the girls stepped back and in two minutes the party stood in the open cellar, looking at what was undoubtedly the Spanish chest.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WHAT WAS UNDOUBTEDLY THE SPANISH CHEST]

"Is it heavy?" asked Fran breathlessly, while Pierre went for a brush to remove the silted dust.

"Rather," said Max, looking boyishly excited. "Ah, now we know the style of the chest. No gold box nor uncut rubies, Connie!"

Relieved of its heavy coating of dust, the box proved of dark wood, carefully finished and ornamented by plates and corners of steel. Upon its cover was inlaid a scroll engraved with the Manor arms and the name of Richard Lisle.

"Gracious, what great-grandfather bought that bit of bric-a-brac!"

exclaimed Connie, seeing her father's eyes light with interested pleasure. "It must have been the original Richard himself. Is it locked?"

Max tried the lid. "No," he said, straightening up and looking at the Colonel. "It is your play, Uncle d.i.c.k. Only a Lisle of Laurel Manor should open Richard's chest."

The Colonel smiled, stepped forward and with his single hand lifted the lid. The excited group about him bent forward eagerly.

At first glance a roll of dark cloth was all that appeared. When Colonel Lisle lifted this, it unfolded into a long-skirted coat ornamented with many b.u.t.tons. The fabric was stained and rotten, in places moth-eaten. Below the coat lay a pair of leather gloves with long wrists, stiff as boards, and two blackened bits of metal that proved to be spurs.

For a moment no one spoke. The young people were silent, impressed with the fact that long years ago these things had been the property of a prince of England.

With a smile the Colonel looked first at Max and then at Win. "Are you satisfied?" he asked. "Though the contents of the Spanish chest have no value in money, they certainly are rich in historical interest."

"Oh, it was the fun of finding it that I cared about," said Win quickly. "That was the point for me. And I am so glad there is something in it."

"Let's take it up-stairs," suggested Connie. "We can see so much better."

The boys and Max delayed to inspect the empty secret pa.s.sage, following to the spot where it was blocked by its stopper of stone. Then they joined the group in the study. In bright daylight, the fine workmanship on the Toledo steel tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs of the chest stood out in full beauty.

"The design on these b.u.t.tons is very significant," remarked Colonel Lisle, who was inspecting the wreck of the once handsome coat. "And I suspect that they are of silver."

Examination showed on the tarnished metal the three ostrich feathers that have marked the badge of the Prince of Wales since the far-off days of Edward the Black Prince. Below was the motto, "Ich dien," and the single letter C.

"On my next new suit I guess I'll have b.u.t.tons marked R," said Roger solemnly.

The others laughed. A feeling of real awe had been creeping over them to think that garment had once been worn by Prince Charles.

"Here's a loose b.u.t.ton," said Max, picking it out of the box. "The whole coat is falling in pieces."

"The b.u.t.tons will last indefinitely," said Colonel Lisle, regarding thoughtfully the one Max had just rescued. "Thanks to Win's clever brain, the Manor has acquired an unsuspected secret pa.s.sage and a valuable antique; of especial value to me because of the name it bears. I want you to keep this b.u.t.ton, Win, for I think you, almost more than any one I know, will appreciate it and what it stands for."