"Yet your family have continued to seek for it," exclaimed Reginald. "I should almost have thought they would have desisted."
"No," Barbara replied, "they never desisted. For first, they thought that Simon might have changed the hiding-place after he had left the paper in Jamaica--the life he led would probably necessitate his doing so, since his companions might otherwise have also found the vault--and, next, the island had become their home. Simon's son bought it for half-a-crown an acre, his wife having some little money, and we have lived here ever since, while every man who has succeeded to it has made further search."
So the tale was told, and now the time had come for Reginald to tell his.
And as that night he took farewell of Barbara, he said--
"To-morrow I shall tell you why the treasure has never been found by your family. To-morrow I shall bring you a narrative left by that connection of mine, saying where the treasure is hidden. He knew Simon Alderly, and he found out the hiding-place."
"And was Simon indeed a pirate?" Barbara asked.
"Would it grieve you to hear he was?"
She thought a moment before replying, and then she said--
"No, for we have always thought him to be one. No, not if it will not make you think worse of me for having descended from him."
"I knew that was so," Reginald replied, "when you told me your name. And I do not think I showed by my manner that I thought any the worse of you."