Instead, she clambered down what appeared to be a perilous descent, but both she and the dog were as sure-footed as mountain goats, and they were soon standing on the out-jutting ledge in front of a small opening which was the entrance to her Treasure Cave.
Eager as the girl was to learn the secret that the box contained, she did not go in at once, but paused, turning toward the sea. The waves, lifting snowy crests, caught the dawning glory of the sky. Impulsively she stretched her arms out to the sun.
There was something sacred to this untaught girl about the rebirth of each day, and the glory of the sky and sea was reflected in her radiant upturned face. Only for a brief while did the pageantry last, and the world—Rilla’s world, all that she knew—was again attired in its everyday garb, sky-blue, sea-green, rock-grey, while over all was the shining sun-gold.
Stooping, for the cave door was too small to be entered by so tall a girl were she standing erect, Rilla disappeared from the ledge and Shags followed her. The cave within was larger than one might suppose, and was lighted by wide crevices here and there in its wall of rocks through which rays of sunlight slanted. The continuous roar of the surf, crashing on the rocks below, was somewhat dulled.
Rilla leaped forward with a little cry of joy.
“Shags,” she called gleefully, “it’s still here! ’Twa’n’t a dream-box arter all. I sort o’ got to thinkin’ in the night it might be.” She clapped her hands, for there were moments when Rilla was a very little girl at heart, much younger than her years, and yet at other times, when she was comforting her old grand-dad and soothing away his imaginary fears, she was far older than fifteen.
Shags was now permitted to bark his excitement, which he did, capering in puppy fashion about the banded box of foreign appearance.
The girl looked at it with her head on one side. “How in time are we to get into it, ol’ dog?” she inquired as she stooped to examine the box. “’Pears like we’ll have to smash it. Here yo’, Shags, what’s that tag-end yer tuggin’ on? Yo-o! It’s the answer to the riddle, like’s not! That strap’s got a buckle on it, an’ it’s mate’s the same. Heave ho! Open she comes. Easy as sailin’ down stream.” As the girl spoke she lifted the cover of the box and uttered a cry of mingled joy and amazement.
“Thunder sakes! Tarnell!” she ejaculated, unconsciously using both of her grandfather’s favorite exclamations at once.
“Shagsie, ol’ dog, will you be lookin’! There’s a mirror inside the cover as hasn’t a crack in it. Yo-o! It comes out. There now, stood up it’s as tall as I am.” As the girl talked to her interested companion she lifted the mirror-lined cover and placed it against the wall of the cave. Meanwhile the curious dog was dragging something from the box. Rilla leaped forward to rescue whatever it might be. “Lie down, sir, and mind orders,” she commanded. “I’m skipper o’ this craft.” After rescuing the mysterious something which the dog had evidently considered his rightful share of the booty, the girl knelt and examined the contents of the box. She then turned glowing eyes toward her comrade, who had minded her and was watching her intently, his head low on his outstretched paws. “Land a Goshen!” she ejaculated. “Shagsie, ol’ dog, what’d yo’ think? This here box is full o’ riggin’s for a fine lady such as comes from the city for the summer, ’pears like, though I’ve never seen ’em close to.”