Leopold stated he had read only those portions of the diary which related to the treasure; and then he read the description from the book of the burying of the gold in the thunder and lightning. He had dug the beach all over, under the instruction of the nurse; and he had been unable to find the bag even after he read the journal, until he went down to High Rock in a thunder shower. Then, for the first time, he could distinguish Coffin Rock. Thus guided, he had found the treasure.
Leopold then gave his views in regard to the ownership of the gold, and declared that he intended to keep the money in his uncle's safe till he had seen the owners of the Waldo, and they had sent to Havana. This statement to the astonishment and confusion of the money-digger, was followed by hearty applause, in which even the ladies joined. Public sentiment in the parlor earnestly indorsed his views.
"Leopold reads very well," said Mr. Hamilton; "and as we desire to rest for an hour or two, I suggest that he read the diary to us from the time the Waldo left Havana."
This suggestion was warmly applauded, and verbally seconded by half a dozen of the party. Leopold consented under this pressure, and read for a full hour, till he came to the afternoon of the day on which the brig was lost; in a word, till he came to what Harvey Barth had just written when Wallbridge came to the galley to light his pipe, as recorded in the first chapter of this story. The steward did not believe the passenger's name was Wallbridge, as written on the Waldo's papers. He did not see what he had changed his name for, and hoped he hadn't done anything wrong.
"'He gave his name as J. Wallbridge,' Leopold read from the diary; 'but that was not the name I found on the paper in his state-room, when I made up his bed on the day we sailed from Havana, though the initials were the same. Then he lent me his Bible to read one day, and this other name was written on it in forty places, wherever there was any blank paper. I wanted to borrow the Bible again, but he would not lend it to me; and I thought he remembered about his name being written in it so many times. I saw the same name stamped on a white shirt of his, which he hung up to air on deck to-day. The name was not J. Wallbridge either; it was Joel Wormbury.'"
"My father!" shouted Stumpy, springing to his feet.