On the day that they were raising the sixth gun, the last they ever found, Bascom and Narcisse went down as usual. Bascom had been under longer, and was just about to rise when the hook under the lifted end of the cannon was repelled by something hard. He dug down, and his hand felt what was unmistakably the corner of a chest. Narcisse caught sight of the motion and put his hand in too, then he sprang up, pushing Bascom down with his foot while he rose.
"I foun' a chest!" he gasped, coming up. "I foun' the treasure!"
"Wheah? How big?" cried Lazaré, and they crowded round the boy. But some one noticed the blank water and raised another cry,
"Where's Bascom?"
Captain Tony drew one deep breath, thrust his hands above his head, and sprang into the water. Narcisse stood still a moment, big eyes big with horror, then he followed overboard.
THE CAPTAIN REAPPEARED AND LIFTED BASCOM'S HEAD ABOVE WATER.
It seemed a breathless age before the Captain reappeared and lifted Bascom's limp head above water. A dozen hands pulled them on deck and fell to work on Bascom.
"He'll come out," prayed the Captain through his teeth; "he got to come out. My boy—Bascom—"
Narcisse climbed up the schooner's side, but no one noticed him, and he hung in torture outside the group surrounding Bascom.