the brown, slimy seaweed that covered the roof, and at Seal’s order the men, with axes, began chopping away the growth and digging down to the timbers in search of hatches.

At last we found them, but they seemed to have been hermetically closed, and it was a long time before saw and hatchet made any impression on the teak. Still the six of us worked with a will, and in half an hour we succeeded in breaking our way into the vessel.

As we peered down into the gloom of the interior there arose a dank odour of mustiness, and I noticed that even the fearless Seal himself hesitated to descend and explore. When, however, I announced an intention of making the attempt, the others with one accord quickly volunteered to accompany me.

Through the hole I lowered myself, expecting to discover some stairway, but my legs only swung in air with the rolling of the hulk. My head being below the roof, however, I soon discovered in the dim light that the place was a large, wide cabin with a long oaken table down the centre. My feet were only a foot from the table, so I dropped and shouted to the others above to follow.

The place, with its panelled walls and deep window-seats, was more like an old-fashioned dining-room in a country house than a ship’s saloon. The table, a big heavy one, was handsomely carved, and there were high seats with twisted backs, covered with faded velvet, while as I moved I stumbled over some pieces of armour—helmets, breastplates, and swords, all red with rust. There were a few bones, too, which at a glance I saw belonged to a human skeleton.

The place had evidently been air and water tight, for although submerged for years the water had not entered. On the contrary, the bodies of those confined therein had crumbled into dust.

Seal and his men, who joined me one after the other, stood aghast, giving vent to exclamations of surprise, mingled, of course, with strong language.

Knowing something of antiquities, I made an examination of the furniture and armour. On the rusted sword-blades was stamped the name “Tomas,” with the sign of the cross, by which I knew them to be the best-tempered steel of Toledo, and the date of the armour I put at about the end of the sixteenth century.

“Strike me if it ain’t like a bloomin’ museum, doctor!” Seal remarked, pressing the point of a sword to the floor to try its temper.

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