Treasures Lost, Treasures Found

rather than causing it. This search had been her first opportunity to change that, and now she was back to square one.
    Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Kate looked up at the sky. There were clouds to the west, but they were thin and white. Harmless. She felt too much like that herself at the moment—something unsubstantial. Sighing, she went below deck. There was nothing to do now but wait.
    Ky found two more cannons and sent up buoys to mark their position. It would be possible, if he didn’t find something more concrete, to salvage the cannons and have them dated by an expert. Though he swam from end to end, searching carefully, he knew it was unlikely he’d find adate stamp through the layers of corrosion. But in time… Satisfied, he swam north.
    If he accomplished nothing else on this dive, he wanted to establish the size of the site. With luck it would be fairly small, perhaps no bigger than a football field. However, there was always the chance that the wreckage could be scattered over several square miles. Before they brought in a salvage ship, he wanted to take a great deal of care with the preliminary work.
    They would need tools. A metal detector would be invaluable. Thus far, they’d done no more than find a wreck, no matter how certain Kate was that it was the Liberty . For the moment he had no way to determine the origin of the ship, he had to find cargo. Once he’d found that, perhaps treasure would follow.
    Once he’d found the treasure… Would she leave? Would she take her share of the gold and the artifacts and drive home?
    Not if he could help it, Ky determined as he shone his headlamp over the sea floor. When the search was over and they’d salvaged what could be salvaged from the sea, it would be time to salvage what they’d once had—what had perhaps never truly been lost. If they could find what had been buried for centuries, they could find what had been buried for four years.
    He couldn’t find much without tools. Most of the ship—or what remained of it—was buried under silt. On another dive, he’d use the prop-wash, the excavation device he’d constructed in his shop. With that he could blow awayinches of sediment at a time—a slow but safe way to uncover artifacts. But someone would have to stay on board to run it.
    He thought of Kate and rejected the idea immediately. Though he had no doubt she could handle the technical aspect—it would only have to be explained to her once—she’d never go for it. Ky began to think it was time they enlisted Marsh.
    He knew his air time was almost up and he’d have to surface for fresh tanks. Still, he lingered near the bottom, searching, prodding. He wanted to take something up for Kate, something tangible that would put the enthusiasm back in her eyes.
    It took him more than half of his allotted time to find it, but when Ky held the unbroken bottle in his hand, he knew Kate’s reaction would be worth the effort. It was a common bottle, not priceless crystal, but he could see no mold marks, which meant it had been hand blown. Crust was weathered over it in layers, but Ky took the time to carefully chip some away, from the bottom only. If the date wasn’t on the bottom, he’d need the crust to have the bottle dated. Already he was thinking of the Corning Glass Museum and their rate of success.
    Then he saw the date, and with a satisfied grin placed the find in the goodie bag on his belt. With his air supply running short, he started toward the surface.
    His hour was up. Or so nearly up, Kate thought, that he should have surfaced already if he’d allowed himself any safety factor. She paced from port to starboard andback again. Would he always risk his own welfare to the limit?
    She’d long since given up sitting quietly in the cabin, going over the makeshift chart Ky had begun. She’d found a book on shipwrecks that Ky had obviously purchased recently, and though it had also been among her father’s research books, she’d skimmed through it again.
    It gave a detailed guide to identifying and excavating a wreck, listed common mistakes and hazards. She found it difficult to read about hazards while Ky was alone beneath the surface. Still, even the simple language of the book couldn’t disguise the adventure. For perhaps half the time Ky had been gone, she’d lost herself in it. Spanish galleons, Dutch merchant ships, English frigates.
    She’d found the list of wrecks off North Carolina alone extensive. But these, she’d