The Lost Galleon by Katharine Tynan — Read

I went home forgetting all else, even my wedded wife. I remembered only the wreck.

I found Thady busy, as he often was, polishing up the few pieces of thin silver which represented the old treasures of Doon. I bade him come to me in the boot-room--that room in which two hours ago I had stood for my marriage, and there I imparted to him what I had seen. He listened to me with his old head craned towards me, the muscles in the old neck showing above the shabby livery, one ancient hand fondling his chin.