It was a solemn, as well as an anxious moment to the deacon, when he first raised the lid of the chest.  Solemn, because it was not possible to forget the recent decease of its late owner; and anxious, inasmuch as he had no certainty that he should find even on the charts, the places of which he sought the latitudes and longitudes.  Certainly, nothing like treasure presented itself to his eyes, when all that Daggett had left behind him lay exposed to view.  The chest of a common sailor is usually but ill-furnished unless it may be just after his return from a long and well-paid voyage, and before he has had time to fall back on his purchases of clothes, as a fund to supply his cravings for personal gratification.  This of Daggett’s formed no exception to the rule.  The few clothes it contained were of the lightest sort, having been procured in warm climates, and were well worn, in addition.  The palms, needles, and shells, and carving in whale-bone, had all been sold, to meet their owner’s wants, and nothing of that sort remained.  There were two old, dirty, and ragged charts, and on these the deacon laid his hands, much as the hawk, in its swoop, descends on its prey.  As it did, however, a tremor came over him, that actually compelled him to throw himself into a chair, and to rest for a moment.

The first of the charts opened, the deacon saw at a glance, was that of the antarctic circle.  There, sure enough, was laid down in ink, three or four specks for islands, with lat. —­ deg., —­“, and long. —­ deg., —­“, written out at its side.  We are under obligations not to give the figures that stand on the chart, for the discovery is deemed to be important, by those who possess the secret, even to the present hour.  We are at liberty to tell the whole story, with this one exception; and we shall proceed to do so, with a proper regard to the pledges made in the premises.

The deacon scarcely breathed as he assured himself of the important fact just mentioned, and his hands trembled to such a degree as to fairly cause the paper of the chart to rattle.  Then he had recourse to an expedient that was strictly characteristic of the man.  He wrote the latitude and longitude in a memorandum-book that he carried on his person; after which he again sat down, and with great care erased the island and the writing from the chart, with the point of a penknife.  This done, his mind felt infinitely relieved.  Nor was this all.  Charts purchased for the schooner were lying on a table in his own room, and he projected on one of them, as well as his skill would allow, the sealing-islands he had just removed from the chart left by Daggett.  There he also wrote, in pencil, the important figures that we are commanded not to reveal.