With some difficulty Edgar was got on board, and the order was immediately given to weigh anchor.
Expressing great surprise at the state of things he found above water, and regret that he had not sooner attended to orders, Edgar placed the box on the deck. Then he unrobed, and drawing on his trousers and a canvas jacket he issued from behind the funnel—which had been his robing-room—and went aft, where he found Aileen seated between her friend Miss Pritty and her father.
“Miss Hazlit,” he said with a peculiar smile, “allow me to introduce you to an old friend.”
He held up before her the carved steel box.
“My mother’s jewel-case!” she exclaimed, with a look of intense surprise.
“My—my wife’s jewels!” stammered Mr Hazlit, in equal surprise; “whereon earth—why—how—where—young man, did you find them?”
“I found them at the bottom of the sea,” replied Edgar. “It is the second time, strange to say, that I have had the pleasure of fishing them up from that vast repository of riches where, I doubt not, many another jewel-case still lies, and will continue to lie, unclaimed for ever. Meanwhile, I count myself peculiarly fortunate in being the means of restoring this case to its rightful owner.”
So saying he placed it in the hands of Aileen.
The captain, who had watched the whole scene with quiet interest and a peculiar curl about his black moustache, as well as a twinkle in his sharp black eye, uttered a short laugh, thrust his hands into his pockets, and walked away to give the order that the steamer’s head should be laid precisely “sou’, sou’-west, and by south, half-south,” with a slight—almost a shadowy—leaning in the direction of “southerly.”