Alice was the first to discover it, and “Fire! fire!” was echoed frantically from one to the other, while all did their best to subdue it.  But their efforts were in vain; nothing could stay its progress, and when the next morning’s sun arose it shone on the blackened, smoking ruins of Spring Bank, and on the tearful group standing near to what had been their happy home.  The furniture mostly had been saved, and was scattered about the yard just where it had been deposited.  There had been some parley between the negroes as to which should be left to burn, the old secretary at the end of the upper hall, or a bureau which stood in an adjoining and otherwise empty room.

“Massah done keep his papers here.  We’ll take dis,” Claib had said, and so, assisted by other negroes and Mug, he had carried the old worm-eaten thing down the stairs, and bearing it across the yard, had dropped it rather suddenly, for it was wondrously heavy, and the sweat stood in great drops on the faces of the blacks, as they deposited the load and turned away so quickly as not to see the rotten bottom splintering to pieces, or the yellow coin dropping upon the grass.

Making the circuit of the yard in company with Colonel Tiffton, Alice’s eye was caught by the flashing of something beneath the bookcase, and stooping down she uttered a cry of surprise as she picked up and held to view a golden guinea.  Another, and another, and another—­they were thick as berries on the hills, and in utter amazement she turned to the equally astonished colonel for an explanation.  It cams to him after a little.  That bookcase, with its false bottom and secret drawers, had been the hiding place of the miserly John Stanley’s gold.  In his will, he had spoken of that particularly, bidding Hugh be careful of it, as it had come to him from his grandfather, and this was the result.  What had been a mystery to the colonel was explained.  He knew what John Stanley had done with all his money, and that Hugh Worthington’s poverty was now a thing of the past.

“I’m glad of it—­the boy deserves this streak of luck, if ever a fellow did,” he said, as he made his rapid explanations to Alice, who listened like one bewildered, while all the time she was gathering up the golden coin, which kept dropping from the sides and chinks of the bookcase.

There was quite a little fortune, and Alice suggested that it should be kept a secret for the present from all save Mrs. Worthington, a plan to which the colonel assented, helping Alice to recover and secrete her treasure, and then going with her to Mrs. Worthington, who sat weeping silently over the ruins of her home.

“Poor Hugh, we are beggars now,” she moaned, refusing at first to listen to Alice’s attempts at consolation.

They told her at last what they had found, proving their words by occular demonstration, and proposing to her that the story should go no further until Hugh had been consulted.