"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 Dick. 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 buttons. 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."