"I think I have!" said Margaret, who was fairly trembling with excitement. "Look! the letters on the lid! oh, Mr. Merryweather!"
The object she held was a box some eight inches square, of ebony or some other dark wood, banded with silver. On the lid were inlaid, also in silver, the letters C. M.
"Christina Montfort!" said Margaret. "Oh, to think of my being the one to find it!"
"I should like to know who else had the right to find it!" said Gerald. "Punch their—I mean, of course, if they were fellows; I beg your pardon, Miss Montfort."
"It is locked," said Margaret. "We must wait, and try some of Uncle John's keys."
"Take care!" exclaimed Gerald. "The bottom is dropping out. Hold your hand under it!"
As he spoke, the bottom of the box, which was of some soft wood and had rotted through, dropped, and something rolled out and fell into Margaret's hand. She held it up to the light. It was a hawk's egg, neatly blown.