he asked on the 10 per cent. rise principle, thankful in my heart that
he had not made it more, and prepared to go. As I turned, however, my
eye fell upon a large chest of the almost indestructible yellow cypress
wood of which were made, it is said, the doors of St. Peter's at Rome
that stood for eight hundred years and, for aught I know, are still
standing, as good as on the day when they were put up.

"Marriage coffer," said Potts, answering my unspoken question.

"Italian, about 1600?" I suggested.

"May be so, or perhaps Dutch made by Italian artists; but older than
that, for somebody has burnt 1597 on the lid with a hot iron. Not for
sale, not for sale at all, much too good to sell. Just you look inside
it, the old key is tied to the spring lock. Never saw such poker-work in
my life. Gods and goddesses and I don't know what; and Venus sitting
in the middle in a wreath of flowers with nothing on, and holding two
hearts in her hands, which shows that it was a marriage chest. Once it
was full of some bride's outfit, sheets and linen and clothes, and God
knows what. I wonder where she has got to to-day. Some place where the
moth don't eat clothes, I hope. Bought it at the break-up of an
ancient family who fled to Norfolk on the revocation of the Edict of
Nantes--Huguenot, of course. Years ago, years ago! Haven't looked into
it for many years, indeed, but think there's nothing there but rubbish
now."

Thus he mumbled on while he found and untied the old key. The spring
lock had grown stiff from disuse and want of oil, but at length it
turned and reopened the chest revealing the poker-work glories on the
inner side of the lid and elsewhere. Glories they were indeed, never had