"The hulk of the Polly Ann had been loosened from the clutch of the coral reef and carried bodily over the ledge by the great waves—had been hurled upon the low inside beach, a huge broken mass, with its stern buried deep in the wet sand, its heavy timbers splintered to pieces, and its rusty iron bolts twisted like corkscrews.
"We rushed to the beach—now as hard and smooth as a floor—and saw, scattered about near the nose of the Polly Ann, some circular pieces, which we at first took to be brownish-colored shells, but which we soon discovered were nothing of the kind.
"I picked up a piece and found it to be nearly two inches broad, perfectly flat and smooth, the edge worn almost sharp, with some inscription on one side and figures on the other, which we could scarcely trace, so black and discolored was the entire surface.
"I ran to a bit of honeycomb rock and rubbed the piece briskly over it, until presently the tarnish began to come off, and I shouted to Bethel that it was a piece of silver.
"'My stars!' he cried out, in great excitement, 'if it's not an old Spanish dollar.'
"And then he danced about like mad for a minute.
"Next we fell to work picking up all we could find till both our hats were nearly full of the pieces.
"'Where in the world did they come from?' asked Bethel, after we had gathered in the last coin. 'I didn't suppose your old brig carried such a cargo, did you?'
"'I never thought so, surely,' said I; 'nor do I believe she did.'
"'Where else could these coins have come from?' asked Bethel.