As to Captain Redfield and his wife, the unexpected release 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.