Treasures Lost, Treasures Found

leaves or bunches of grapes and flowers. In a heady moment of pleasure, she snapped Ky’s picture as he held one up to his lips.
    She knew that at auction, they would more than pay for the investment she’d made. And, with them, the donation she’d make to a museum in her father’s name was steadily growing. But more than this, the discovery of so many pipes on a wreck added force to their claim that the ship was English.
    There were also snuff boxes, again thousands, leaving literally no doubt in her mind that they’d found the merchantman Liberty . They found tableware, some of it elegant, some basic utility-ware, but again in quantity. Their list of salvage grew beyond anything Kate had imagined, but they found no chest of gold.
    They took turns hauling their finds to the surface, using an inverted plastic trash can filled with air to help them lift. Even with this, they stored the bulk of it on the sea floor. They were working alone again, without a need for Marsh to man the prop-wash. As it had been in the beginning, the project became a personal chore for only the two of them. What they found became a personal triumph. What they didn’t find, a personal disappointment.
    Kate delegated herself to deal with the snuff boxes, transporting them to the mesh baskets. Already, she was planning to clean several of them herself as part of the discovery. Beneath the layers of time there might be something elegant, ornate or ugly. She didn’t believe it mattered what she found, as long as she found it.
    Tea, sugar and other perishables the merchant ship had carried were long since gone without a trace. What she and Ky found now were the solid pieces of civilization that had survived centuries in the sea. A pipe meant for an eighteenth-century man had never reached the New World. It should have made her sad but, because it had survived, because she could hold it in her hand more than two hundred years later, Kate felt a quiet triumph. Some things last, whatever the odds.
    Reaching down, she disturbed something that layamong the jumbled snuff boxes. Automatically, she jerked her hand back. Memories of the stingray and other dangers were still very fresh. When the small round object clinked against the side of a box and lay still, her heart began to pound. Almost afraid to touch, Kate reached for it. Between her fingers, she held a gold coin from another era.
    Though she had read it was likely, she hadn’t expected it to be as bright and shiny as the day it was minted. The pieces of silver they’d found had blackened, and other metal pieces had corroded, some of them crystalized almost beyond recognition. Yet, the gold, the small coin she’d plucked from the sea floor, winked back at her.
    Its origin was English. The long-dead king stared out at her. The date was 1750.
    Ky! Foolishly, she said his name. Though the sound was muffled and indistinguishable, he turned. Unable to wait, Kate swam toward him, clutching the coin. When she reached him, she took his hand and pressed the gold into his palm.
    He knew at the moment of contact. He had only to look into her eyes. Taking her hand, he brought it to his lips. She’d found what she wanted. For no reason he could name, he felt empty. He pressed the coin back into her hand, closing her fingers over it tightly. The gold was hers.
    Swimming beside her, Ky moved to the spot where Kate had found the coin. Together, they fanned, using all the patience each of them had stored. In the twenty minutes of bottom time they had left, they uncovered onlyfive more coins. As if they were as fragile as glass, Kate placed them in her bag. Each took a mesh basket filled with salvage and surfaced.
    “It’s there, Ky.” Kate let her mouthpiece drop as Ky hauled the first basket over the rail. “It’s the Liberty , we’ve proven it.”
    “It’s the Liberty ,” he agreed, taking the second basket from her. “You’ve finished what your father started.”
    “Yes.” She unhooked her tanks, but it was more than their weight she felt lifted from her shoulders. “I’ve finished.” Digging into her bag, she pulled out the six bright coins. “These were loose. We still haven’t found the chest. If it still exists.”
    He’d already thought of that, but not how he’d tell her his own theory. “They might have taken the chest to another part of the boat when the storm hit.” It was a possibility; it had given them hope that the chest was still there.
    Kate looked down. The