“Do you mind if we look round a little?” I asked doubtfully, for I knew how I should hate having strangers look over my own treasury.  But Captain Sands looked pleased at our interest, and said cheerfully that we might overhaul as much as we chose.  Kate discovered first an old battered wooden figure-head of a ship,—­a woman’s head with long curly hair falling over the shoulders.  The paint was almost gone, and the dust covered most of what was left:  still there was a wonderful spirit and grace, and a wild, weird beauty which attracted us exceedingly; but the captain could only tell us that it had belonged to the wreck of a Danish brig which had been driven on the reef where the lighthouse stands now, and his father had found this on the long sands a day or two afterward.  “That was a dreadful storm,” said the captain.  “I’ve heard the old folks tell about it; it was when I was only a year or two old.  There were three merchantmen wrecked within five miles of Deephaven.  This one was all stove to splinters, and they used to say she had treasure aboard.  When I was small I used to have a great idea of going out there to the rocks at low water and trying to find some gold, but I never made out no great.”  And he smiled indulgently at the thought of his youthful dream.

“Kate,” said I, “do you see what beauties these Turk’s-head knots are?” We had been taking a course of first lessons in knots from Danny, and had followed by learning some charmingly intricate ones from Captain Lant, the stranded mariner who lived on a farm two miles or so inland.  Kate came over to look at the Turk’s-heads, which were at either end of the rope handles of a little dark-blue chest.

Captain Sands turned in his chair and nodded approval.  “That’s a neat piece of work, and it was a first-rate seaman who did it; he’s dead and gone years ago, poor young fellow; an I-talian he was, who sailed on the Ranger three or four long voyages.  He fell from the mast-head on the voyage home from Callao.  Cap’n Manning and old Mr. Lorimer, they owned the Ranger, and when she come into port and they got the news they took it as much to heart as if he’d been some relation.  He was smart as a whip, and had a way with him, and the pleasantest kind of a voice; you couldn’t help liking him.  They found out that he had a mother alive in Port Mahon, and they sent his pay and some money he had in the bank at Riverport out to her by a ship that was going to the Mediterranean.  He had some clothes in his chest, and they sold those and sent her the money,—­all but some trinkets they supposed he was keeping for her; I rec’lect he used to speak consider’ble about his mother.  I shipped one v’y’ge with him before the mast, before I went out mate of the Daylight.  I happened to be in port the time the Ranger got in, an’ I see this chist lying round in Cap’n Manning’s storehouse, and I offered to give him what it was worth; but we was good friends, and he told me take it if I wanted it, it was no use to him, and I’ve kept it ever since.