Chapter 4

Although I was limited to the fifth cellar, I still had more freedom at my disposal than I had enjoyed for months, if not my entire life. I had the lake to swim, myriad boxes to explore, and a whole collection of other objects mixed in with the various sized crates.

Rather than languish in my loneliness, I decided to pull out several boxes and set them on the table. Hands on hips, I smiled inwardly at the possibility of endless treasures awaiting discovery in all five boxes I had selected.

"Gold," I whispered to myself. Some hapless fool had left his treasures buried here a hundred years ago.

I pictured a pirate with a scraggly black beard, silver rings on each finger, and pistol on one hip and a sword on the other. In his arms he carried his vast treasure in a large wooden chest, coins and jewels spilling out with each step. There were hounds baying in the distance, hot on his trail. Unable to make his escape, the pirate left the treasure behind and fully intended to return for it at a later time, but shortly after he left the treasure hidden, the dreaded pirate of the high seas was shot in the back and killed instantly. He left behind priceless treasures meant for his love, the king of Spain's daughter. Only the jewels in this collection matched her beauty.

A morbid tale, yet full of excitement and unrequited love-and best of all, treasures of untold value.

I thought of Amelie, the girl I had met while traveling with my uncle, and the jewelry stolen from her family by the gypsies. I wondered if the box I had sent to her arrived and if they had kept or sold the contents. I thought of her mother and her warmth and kindness, and her older brother who had disliked me because of my mask and the flesh beneath.

But mostly I thought of Amelie dressed as a swan, her heart as pure as her white dress and feathered mask. I thought of how close she stood to me, her shy smile, and they way she smelled like vanilla and sugar, just like Madeline. Many times over the last ten months I swore the thought of Amelie Batiste kept me alive. A thousand times over I relived each moment in her company, and despite the chaos around me, I clung to her memory.

The moment I had seen Madeline enter the tent the previous night, I had first thought it was Amelie. For those fleeting seconds when our eyes had met, I had felt a sense of peace and relief in seeing her again. Our friendship, brief as it had been, made me feel as though I were an ordinary boy in the presence of an extraordinary swan princess. My heart still fluttered when I thought of the night we had shared dancing and sharing a meal.

Whatever treasure awaited in these boxes, I would send to Amelie along with a note that I was safe in Paris. I owed her a great deal more, but this was a decent start.

Excitement thrummed through me as I pried the first box open with the wooden cutlass I had found previously. Unfortunately I found myself underwhelmed by the contents: carpenter tools. While useful, I found myself disappointed by no sign of gold or precious jewels in sight. My shoulders dropped and I sighed. This was not quite the gift I had envisioned sending her. My romantic notion seemed to have fallen flat-for now. Surely greater treasures lay hidden.

The second and third boxes were filled with books and yellowed sheets of music, which piqued my interest but were still not suitable gifts. Annoyed by what I had discovered thus far, I picked at the apple tart, which was now cold, and thumbed through the books. I was beginning to think there would be no treasure left by an ill-fated pirate.

I rested my chin on my palm and took a well-deserved break, alternating between a few chapters of Charles Dickens and the last crumbs of the apple tart. Eventually I became disinterested in Oliver Twist and I closed the book, then tossed it back into the box.

Hours had surely passed, I told myself. I checked my watch and discovered Madeline had left only forty-seven minutes ago. I threw my head back and nearly tipped my chair over in exaggerated despair. Frustrated but still determined to make good use of my time, I placed the opened boxes on the ground and pried open the fourth box.

My luck was no better as the fourth box contained shoddy toy boats and several wooden apples, all of which I assumed were probably props for the stage. I had half the mind to toss the box and its pathetic content into the lake but refrained.

"Please be something of value," I said as I set my sights on the very last box.

This one was longer and lighter than the previous four I had selected, which immediately deflated my hopes of finding gold. Unlike the other boxes, which had been nailed shut, this one had a lock, which clearly meant the contents was of utmost importance. A real challenge, I told myself, something worth finding was in this box-and I had found tools with which to open it.

Little by little I managed to pry open the hinges with the help of a flat head screwdriver and a hammer. The wood splintered around the screws, and I imagined myself prying open the jaws of a wolf. Each screw was a tooth in a jaw with the strength of a steel trap. The beast had taken Amelie's family treasures and I had sworn to recover them or die trying.

With one mighty crack, the container splintered open, the top of the box separating from the hinges, which dangled from the damaged wood. My heart raced and chest heaved as I stood, candle in hand, peering into the conquered maw before me. Finally, I had been the victor and the spoils were mine.

I stared for a long moment, barely able to believe my eyes. Finally, I had found a bit of treasure, although it was definitely not gold or jewels. Yet for me, it was much more: A violin nestled ever so gently in a folded dark green velvet cloth. I marveled at the natural ripple of color in the maple and ran my fingers along the upper bout and waist. This was no ordinary instrument; this was a masterful creation and most likely worth a great sum of money.

I picked up the violin with the greatest of care, my lips parted in awe at the craftsmanship. I may not have known much about music in my youth, but I realized immediately that this violin was something special. As I placed my chin against the chin rest, a surge of pride and elation strummed through me, followed by trepidation as I wondered who had held this instrument before me. As if fate answered my query, a card fell out and landed beside the box, which I plucked off the table and held to the light.

Property of G. Daae

My luck had at last made a most spectacular turn. The pirate had left me treasure after all.

"Thank you, Pirate Daae," I said to myself. I held out the violin and examined it one last time before I placed it back in the box and covered it with the green velvet cloth as though it were a sleeping infant. "I will take care of your greatest treasure."