Chapter Thirty.

Chapter Thirty.Found.My excitement was intense; and all dripping as I was with the icy water, I leaped out on to the sand with the intention of climbing over the barrier out into the bright sunshiny vale, to cut a long, thin bamboo with which to probe the sand in a more satisfactory manner.Then I stopped short, as the recollection of Tom’s words flashed across my brain. His surmises might be correct; and, cautious as we had been, watchers might have seen our goings and comings, while my stepping out into the vale now to cut a pole would show that I had some particular object in view.Another minute, though, and with my mind teeming with thoughts of rich ingots, plates, and vessels of gold, I began to consider as to what ought to be my next step. Without testing further I felt that I had been successful—that a wonderful stroke of good fortune had rewarded my efforts; and then, how was I to dig it from its wet, sandy bed and get it safely to the hacienda?“Tom,” I cried excitedly, “I have not spoken sooner lest you should think me an empty dreamer; but I have found that which I sought.”“Sure, Mas’r Harry?”“Well—a—well, yes, nearly, Tom,” I stammered, somewhat taken aback by his coolness; “and now I want you to swear that you will take no unfair advantage of what you have seen or may see in the progress of this adventure.”“Want me to dowhat, Mas’r Harry?” said Tom sturdily.“I want you to swear—”“Then I ain’t a-going to swear, nor nothing of the kind; so you need not think it. If I ain’t worth trusting send me back; leastwise, you won’t do that, because I sha’n’t go. But, howsoever, I ain’t a-going to go swearing and taking oaths, and, there! be quiet! Look there, Mas’r Harry. Make him swear if you like. No, not that way, more off to the left. Turn your eye just past them three big trees by the lump of rock. That ain’t a deer this time, but some one on the look-out. Two on ’em, that there are!”I glanced in the pointed-out direction, to see plainly that a couple of Indian heads were strained towards us, as if their owners were narrowly watching for our appearance; though I knew from the gloom beneath the arch where Tom was seated that we must be invisible to any one standing out there in the glow of the bright afternoon sunshine.What did it mean? Were these emissaries of Garcia watching my every act; or were they descendants of the Peruvian priests possessed of the secret of the buried treasures.I shrank back farther into the cavern to crouch down, Tom imitating my acts, and together we watched the watchers, who remained so motionless that at times I felt disposed to ask myself whether I had not been mistaken, and whether these were not a portion of one of the rocks.“It’s no good, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom; “we must make a rush for it. They’ll stop there for a week, or till we go. ’Tain’t nothing new; there’s always some one after you; and if you’ve found anything I can’t see how you’re going to get it away. Let’s go now, before it gets evening, for they’ll never move till we do.”“But the—”“Well, they ain’t obliged to know that we’ve found that, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom smiling. “We don’t know it ourselves yet. What we’ve got to do is to play bold, shoot one or two of the birds as they dodge about farther in, then knock off a few of those pretty bits of white stone hanging from the roof, and they’ll think that we’ve come after curiosities.”Tom’s advice was so sound that I led the way farther into the cave, where we made the place echo, as if about to fall upon our heads, as we had a couple of shots, each bringing down six of the guacharo birds. Then re-loading, we secured three handsome long stalactites, white and glittering, and thus burdened we took our departure, walking carelessly and laughing and examining our birds, Tom stopping coolly to light his pipe just as we were abreast of where we had seen the Indians.It was bold if the watchers’ intentions were inimical, and we gave ourselves the credit of having thrown them off the scent, for we saw no more of them that evening; returning tired and excited to the hacienda to find my uncle quiet and cordial, for he seemed to be giving me the credit of trying to break myself off my inclination.

My excitement was intense; and all dripping as I was with the icy water, I leaped out on to the sand with the intention of climbing over the barrier out into the bright sunshiny vale, to cut a long, thin bamboo with which to probe the sand in a more satisfactory manner.

Then I stopped short, as the recollection of Tom’s words flashed across my brain. His surmises might be correct; and, cautious as we had been, watchers might have seen our goings and comings, while my stepping out into the vale now to cut a pole would show that I had some particular object in view.

Another minute, though, and with my mind teeming with thoughts of rich ingots, plates, and vessels of gold, I began to consider as to what ought to be my next step. Without testing further I felt that I had been successful—that a wonderful stroke of good fortune had rewarded my efforts; and then, how was I to dig it from its wet, sandy bed and get it safely to the hacienda?

“Tom,” I cried excitedly, “I have not spoken sooner lest you should think me an empty dreamer; but I have found that which I sought.”

“Sure, Mas’r Harry?”

“Well—a—well, yes, nearly, Tom,” I stammered, somewhat taken aback by his coolness; “and now I want you to swear that you will take no unfair advantage of what you have seen or may see in the progress of this adventure.”

“Want me to dowhat, Mas’r Harry?” said Tom sturdily.

“I want you to swear—”

“Then I ain’t a-going to swear, nor nothing of the kind; so you need not think it. If I ain’t worth trusting send me back; leastwise, you won’t do that, because I sha’n’t go. But, howsoever, I ain’t a-going to go swearing and taking oaths, and, there! be quiet! Look there, Mas’r Harry. Make him swear if you like. No, not that way, more off to the left. Turn your eye just past them three big trees by the lump of rock. That ain’t a deer this time, but some one on the look-out. Two on ’em, that there are!”

I glanced in the pointed-out direction, to see plainly that a couple of Indian heads were strained towards us, as if their owners were narrowly watching for our appearance; though I knew from the gloom beneath the arch where Tom was seated that we must be invisible to any one standing out there in the glow of the bright afternoon sunshine.

What did it mean? Were these emissaries of Garcia watching my every act; or were they descendants of the Peruvian priests possessed of the secret of the buried treasures.

I shrank back farther into the cavern to crouch down, Tom imitating my acts, and together we watched the watchers, who remained so motionless that at times I felt disposed to ask myself whether I had not been mistaken, and whether these were not a portion of one of the rocks.

“It’s no good, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom; “we must make a rush for it. They’ll stop there for a week, or till we go. ’Tain’t nothing new; there’s always some one after you; and if you’ve found anything I can’t see how you’re going to get it away. Let’s go now, before it gets evening, for they’ll never move till we do.”

“But the—”

“Well, they ain’t obliged to know that we’ve found that, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom smiling. “We don’t know it ourselves yet. What we’ve got to do is to play bold, shoot one or two of the birds as they dodge about farther in, then knock off a few of those pretty bits of white stone hanging from the roof, and they’ll think that we’ve come after curiosities.”

Tom’s advice was so sound that I led the way farther into the cave, where we made the place echo, as if about to fall upon our heads, as we had a couple of shots, each bringing down six of the guacharo birds. Then re-loading, we secured three handsome long stalactites, white and glittering, and thus burdened we took our departure, walking carelessly and laughing and examining our birds, Tom stopping coolly to light his pipe just as we were abreast of where we had seen the Indians.

It was bold if the watchers’ intentions were inimical, and we gave ourselves the credit of having thrown them off the scent, for we saw no more of them that evening; returning tired and excited to the hacienda to find my uncle quiet and cordial, for he seemed to be giving me the credit of trying to break myself off my inclination.

Chapter Thirty One.The Hidalgo’s Dignity upset.That night I forgot all past perils as I dreamed of gold—swimming in it—rolling in it—for it seemed to possess all the qualities of quicksilver, and whenever I tried to hold it or sweep it up it all escaped through my fingers.I woke at last with a start, with my chest heaving, and my face and limbs bathed with a cold, dank perspiration.As far as I could judge it wanted a couple of hours to daybreak; but I felt too much agitated to try and sleep again. So rising and hurrying on my clothes, I sat there, hour after hour, thinking and planning my future course, for a night’s rest had not weakened my convictions.The determination I came to at last was, that I could not do better than smother my impatience for a whole week; taking, the while, excursions in every other direction so as, if possible, to blind any one who made a study of my movements. Then my journey to the cavern must be made by night, armed with spades, and taking with us a couple of mules to bring home the spoil.So I mused, little recking of what was to come, till the great golden sun rose from his glorious bed, when, after lying down an hour for the sake of the rest, I rose and sought for Tom, to find him indulging in that bad habit of his, a morning pipe; when I told him my plans, and also asked him if he thought that we ought to take my uncle into our confidence.“Not by no means, Mas’r Harry,” he said.“I may depend on you, Tom, of course?” I said, “Depend on me, Mas’r Harry? Ah! I should think so. There never was nobody couldn’t stick to no one no tighter than I’ll stick to you. There won’t be no getting rid of me; so don’t never think so no more. What you say is quite right, and we’ll wait a week. If no one ain’t touched that stuff for three hundred years they’ll leave it alone another week. I’ll be on the look-out for a couple of mules and spades, and we’ll go, like the forty thieves, to the enchanted cavern, eh, Mas’r Harry? I’ll get ’em, and we’ll put them into the little wood under the mountain-side, eh? and keep ’em there till it’s dark, when we’ll start. A week to-day, or a week to-morrow?”“A week to-day, Tom,” I said; “and if you’ll hang about here, I’ll tell you what time we’ll go for a shooting trip.”We had a roam after breakfast, and then, returning to the mid-day meal, I spent some time about the plantation, when, feeling tired and overcome with the heat, I went into the house, lay down upon the couch in the darkened room, and, I suppose, from the effects of past fatigue, soon dropped off into a sound slumber.I have some recollection of hearing voices and a low, buzzing sound that, in my confused state, seemed somehow to be mixed up with gold. Then it was Lilla’s beautiful golden hair, and I was seeing it spread out and floating once more upon the surface of the river. Then I was wide awake, for I had heard Garcia’s voice utter my name with an intensity of bitterness that made me shudder as I rose upon my elbow.“I tell you he goes to the Indian villages, where there are dark—skinned maidens. I know it; and then he comes back here, pretending to be ill and tired with his travels.”“It is not true!” I heard Lilla exclaim angrily. “And if he were here now—”“But he is not here now,” said Garcia sneeringly. “He has some assignation in the moonlit woods with one of his dark beauties, with fire-flies in her hair and flashing eyes, such as those cold-blooded Englishmen love.”“It is false!” cried Lilla; “and if he were here you would not dare to say it.”“Look here!” he said. “I will be played with no longer. I have been calm and patient while this English dog has come in here to insult and try to supplant me. He has always been placed before me since the day he set foot in the plantation. Your mother is my debtor, and you are promised to me. Let there be any more of this trifling, and I will bring down ruin upon the place. I have sued gently and tenderly, but it is useless. Now I will show you that I am master; promise me now that you will speak to him no more, or—”I never knew what threat Garcia would have uttered for just then running forward I dashed out my clenched fist with all my might, and with a crash the Don went down over a chair just as my uncle and Mrs Landell ran into the room.“What does this mean?” exclaimed my uncle angrily, as Lilla ran, sobbing, to her mother.“He struck me!” cried Garcia furiously, as he scrambled up. “He has insulted me—a hidalgo of Spain—and I’ll have his blood!”“Better go and wash your face clear of your own,” I said contemptuously, as I suffered from an intense longing to go and kick him. “He was rude to my cousin, Uncle, and I knocked him down. That’s all.”With a savage scowl upon his face Garcia made for the door, turned to shake his fist at me, and he was gone.“Hal,” said my uncle gently—“Hal, my boy, I’d have given a year of my life sooner than this should have happened. You don’t know these half-blood Spaniards as I do. You don’t knowwhatmischief may befall us all through your rashness.”“I wonder that you admit him to your house, Uncle!” I exclaimed hotly, for anger was getting the better of discretion.I was sorry, though, the next minute; for, on hearing my words, my uncle glanced in a troubled way at his wife, who was trying to soothe poor weeping Lilla; while, during the next hour, I learned that I had had the misfortune to strike down the man who was my uncle’s creditor to a large amount, as he had been Mrs Landell’s, or they would not have allowed his attentions to Lilla.“I’m ashamed of it all, my boy,” said my uncle; “but he holds our future entirely in his hands, and he looks for the receipt of Lilla’s little dowry as part payment of the debts. I’ve struggled very hard against ruin, Hal, and now it seems that it must come. But after all, I don’t know that I’m sorry, for it would have been a cruel thing—like selling that poor child. But when a man is embarrassed as I am, what can he do? And besides, we both thought at one time that Lilla had a leaning towards him. It was when he seemed to come forward generously with his money, which I was foolish enough to take. But there, let it pass; and I repeat, mind, Hal, that I cannot allow matters to go on between you and Lilla. All will be at an end with Garcia, I suppose, and we shall have to turn out; but I cannot encourage you. I must begin again, I suppose.”“Uncle,” I said, “I am deeply grieved that my coming should work such evil in the place,” for my anger had now evaporated. “I ask your pardon for bringing such trouble upon your house. I could not help loving Lilla; to see her was to do that; and even now, if I saw that fellow brutally using his strength against her, I should feel obliged to strike him.”“Things must take their course, Harry,” said my uncle; “and I don’t know that, after all, I am very much grieved. We have seen the man now in his true colours, and I learn that one of those colours is that which is worn by a coward. But while you stay, Harry, beware! Garcia has sworn that he’ll have your blood, and he will!”“Yes, Uncle,” I said quietly, “if he can!”“Just so, Harry; but take care.”“I’ll be on my guard, Uncle,” I replied.And then I left him to go and think, my pulses throbbing as I thought of the exciting turn my adventures were taking—the event of the last hour—my discovery, if such it could be called; and I longed for the time when I could put it to the proof.

That night I forgot all past perils as I dreamed of gold—swimming in it—rolling in it—for it seemed to possess all the qualities of quicksilver, and whenever I tried to hold it or sweep it up it all escaped through my fingers.

I woke at last with a start, with my chest heaving, and my face and limbs bathed with a cold, dank perspiration.

As far as I could judge it wanted a couple of hours to daybreak; but I felt too much agitated to try and sleep again. So rising and hurrying on my clothes, I sat there, hour after hour, thinking and planning my future course, for a night’s rest had not weakened my convictions.

The determination I came to at last was, that I could not do better than smother my impatience for a whole week; taking, the while, excursions in every other direction so as, if possible, to blind any one who made a study of my movements. Then my journey to the cavern must be made by night, armed with spades, and taking with us a couple of mules to bring home the spoil.

So I mused, little recking of what was to come, till the great golden sun rose from his glorious bed, when, after lying down an hour for the sake of the rest, I rose and sought for Tom, to find him indulging in that bad habit of his, a morning pipe; when I told him my plans, and also asked him if he thought that we ought to take my uncle into our confidence.

“Not by no means, Mas’r Harry,” he said.

“I may depend on you, Tom, of course?” I said, “Depend on me, Mas’r Harry? Ah! I should think so. There never was nobody couldn’t stick to no one no tighter than I’ll stick to you. There won’t be no getting rid of me; so don’t never think so no more. What you say is quite right, and we’ll wait a week. If no one ain’t touched that stuff for three hundred years they’ll leave it alone another week. I’ll be on the look-out for a couple of mules and spades, and we’ll go, like the forty thieves, to the enchanted cavern, eh, Mas’r Harry? I’ll get ’em, and we’ll put them into the little wood under the mountain-side, eh? and keep ’em there till it’s dark, when we’ll start. A week to-day, or a week to-morrow?”

“A week to-day, Tom,” I said; “and if you’ll hang about here, I’ll tell you what time we’ll go for a shooting trip.”

We had a roam after breakfast, and then, returning to the mid-day meal, I spent some time about the plantation, when, feeling tired and overcome with the heat, I went into the house, lay down upon the couch in the darkened room, and, I suppose, from the effects of past fatigue, soon dropped off into a sound slumber.

I have some recollection of hearing voices and a low, buzzing sound that, in my confused state, seemed somehow to be mixed up with gold. Then it was Lilla’s beautiful golden hair, and I was seeing it spread out and floating once more upon the surface of the river. Then I was wide awake, for I had heard Garcia’s voice utter my name with an intensity of bitterness that made me shudder as I rose upon my elbow.

“I tell you he goes to the Indian villages, where there are dark—skinned maidens. I know it; and then he comes back here, pretending to be ill and tired with his travels.”

“It is not true!” I heard Lilla exclaim angrily. “And if he were here now—”

“But he is not here now,” said Garcia sneeringly. “He has some assignation in the moonlit woods with one of his dark beauties, with fire-flies in her hair and flashing eyes, such as those cold-blooded Englishmen love.”

“It is false!” cried Lilla; “and if he were here you would not dare to say it.”

“Look here!” he said. “I will be played with no longer. I have been calm and patient while this English dog has come in here to insult and try to supplant me. He has always been placed before me since the day he set foot in the plantation. Your mother is my debtor, and you are promised to me. Let there be any more of this trifling, and I will bring down ruin upon the place. I have sued gently and tenderly, but it is useless. Now I will show you that I am master; promise me now that you will speak to him no more, or—”

I never knew what threat Garcia would have uttered for just then running forward I dashed out my clenched fist with all my might, and with a crash the Don went down over a chair just as my uncle and Mrs Landell ran into the room.

“What does this mean?” exclaimed my uncle angrily, as Lilla ran, sobbing, to her mother.

“He struck me!” cried Garcia furiously, as he scrambled up. “He has insulted me—a hidalgo of Spain—and I’ll have his blood!”

“Better go and wash your face clear of your own,” I said contemptuously, as I suffered from an intense longing to go and kick him. “He was rude to my cousin, Uncle, and I knocked him down. That’s all.”

With a savage scowl upon his face Garcia made for the door, turned to shake his fist at me, and he was gone.

“Hal,” said my uncle gently—“Hal, my boy, I’d have given a year of my life sooner than this should have happened. You don’t know these half-blood Spaniards as I do. You don’t knowwhatmischief may befall us all through your rashness.”

“I wonder that you admit him to your house, Uncle!” I exclaimed hotly, for anger was getting the better of discretion.

I was sorry, though, the next minute; for, on hearing my words, my uncle glanced in a troubled way at his wife, who was trying to soothe poor weeping Lilla; while, during the next hour, I learned that I had had the misfortune to strike down the man who was my uncle’s creditor to a large amount, as he had been Mrs Landell’s, or they would not have allowed his attentions to Lilla.

“I’m ashamed of it all, my boy,” said my uncle; “but he holds our future entirely in his hands, and he looks for the receipt of Lilla’s little dowry as part payment of the debts. I’ve struggled very hard against ruin, Hal, and now it seems that it must come. But after all, I don’t know that I’m sorry, for it would have been a cruel thing—like selling that poor child. But when a man is embarrassed as I am, what can he do? And besides, we both thought at one time that Lilla had a leaning towards him. It was when he seemed to come forward generously with his money, which I was foolish enough to take. But there, let it pass; and I repeat, mind, Hal, that I cannot allow matters to go on between you and Lilla. All will be at an end with Garcia, I suppose, and we shall have to turn out; but I cannot encourage you. I must begin again, I suppose.”

“Uncle,” I said, “I am deeply grieved that my coming should work such evil in the place,” for my anger had now evaporated. “I ask your pardon for bringing such trouble upon your house. I could not help loving Lilla; to see her was to do that; and even now, if I saw that fellow brutally using his strength against her, I should feel obliged to strike him.”

“Things must take their course, Harry,” said my uncle; “and I don’t know that, after all, I am very much grieved. We have seen the man now in his true colours, and I learn that one of those colours is that which is worn by a coward. But while you stay, Harry, beware! Garcia has sworn that he’ll have your blood, and he will!”

“Yes, Uncle,” I said quietly, “if he can!”

“Just so, Harry; but take care.”

“I’ll be on my guard, Uncle,” I replied.

And then I left him to go and think, my pulses throbbing as I thought of the exciting turn my adventures were taking—the event of the last hour—my discovery, if such it could be called; and I longed for the time when I could put it to the proof.

Chapter Thirty Two.Not quite.The time glided on, and I saw no more of Garcia; but, all the same, I could not help feeling that this calm might portend a storm.My uncle was evidently very uneasy; but he said no more, merely proceeding with his business as usual, while with Tom I took trips here and there, making myself certainly now no burden, for we returned each evening loaded with game of some description—deer, fowl, or fish.The first two days I saw at different times that we were followed; but afterwards it seemed that the spies, self-constituted or not, had given up their task, and that we were free to roam the forest as we pleased.I grew hopeful upon making this discovery, and longingly looked forward for the night of our great adventure.It seemed as if that night would never come, but it came at last.Instead of going to my bed-room I stole out directly I had seen my uncle take his last cigar; and knowing that my absence would not be noticed, I made my way to the appointed place.It was excessively dark—a favourable omen, I thought; and on reaching the little wood there was Tom smoking his pipe, with the bowl inside his jacket, though, had the ruddy glow been seen at a distance, it might easily have been taken for the lanthorn of a fire-fly.“Seen any one, Tom?” I whispered.“Not a soul, sir.”“Have you got all we want?”“I believe you, Mas’r Harry. Two spades, two mules, plenty to eat and drink, plenty of powder and lead, and coffee-bags enough—brand-new ones of your uncle’s—to put in all the treasure we shall find.”I could not see Tom’s face, but I felt sure that he was indulging in a good grin. However, I said nothing; but enjoining caution, we each took the bridle of a mule and began to thread our way cautiously amongst the trees, taking the precaution of setting off in an opposite direction to that we intended afterwards to pursue.It was a strange and a weird journey, but we went on hour after hour, and nothing molested us. About midnight we halted to let the beasts graze for half an hour in a grassy vale, while we did what Tom called the same; our pasture being cake, and our drink spirit and water.Refreshed by our short halt, we again journeyed, and from time to time, after giving Tom the bridle of my mule, I stayed back to listen and try to discover whether we were followed; but, save the cry of some beast, there was nothing to be heard.About two hours after midnight we struck the little stream, and soon after were well in the ravine, when, for the purpose of exercising greater caution, and, as Tom said, running the risk of being stung, we each took the bridle of our mule over one arm and went down on all fours, crawling forward; and so slow was our progress that, were we watched and a glimpse of us obtained, I felt certain that we must be taken for a little herd slowly grazing towards the mouth of the great cavern.We reached the rocky pass at last, and then, muffling the feet of the mules with the coffee-bags, we took them cautiously on—the intelligent beasts clambering carefully and with hardly a sound—when we led them right in for some distance, gave them the maize we had brought, and then sat down in the darkness listening to their crunching of the grain and the loud cries of the guacharo birds as they flew in and out, fortifying ourselves the while with a hearty meal—Tom foregoing his pipe for reasons of cautious tendency.According to my calculations the day would break in about an hour’s time; and during that hour, but always on the alert, we stretched ourselves upon the sand to rest, listening to every sound; for there was the possibility, we knew, of there being enemies, biped or quadruped, within a few yards of where we rested.Towards daybreak it turned intensely cold—colder than I could have imagined possible in a tropic land; but we were prepared to bear cold as well as danger, for a fire would, of course, have been inviting observation.Day at last; with a glorious flush of light reaching down the valley, and making the stalactites on the roof to glisten. But our ideas now were bent on the object we had in view, and nature’s magnificence was unnoticed.As soon as the light had penetrated sufficiently, we led the mules farther in, and secured them in the broad passage, so that they could reach the water of the stream; our next step being to creep cautiously to the rocky barrier, and, well sheltering ourselves, to watch long and carefully for some sign of spies.We did so for a full hour, but the silence of the place was even awful. Then the grey dawn brightened into the sweet fresh morning, with the heavy dew glistening in the sunshine as it dripped from the great tropic leaves—otherwise all was still; and convinced at length that those who had hitherto dogged our steps had for this time been eluded, I made a sign to Tom; and going in about fifty yards, we seized our spades and began to throw the light soil and sand into the bed of the little stream, shovelful after shovelful, so as to form a dam, which was at first washed down nearly as fast as we piled it up; but at last our efforts were successful, and the dammed-up water began to flow aside, cutting for itself a new channel through the sand, and making its exit a few feet nearer the rocky barrier, but taking up its former course on the other side.We rested then for a few minutes, faint and hot; but the excitement of the quest took from us the sense of fatigue, for the water had all drained away from the bed of the stream, and the little pool close under the rocky barrier now presented the appearance of a depression whose bottom was covered with a beautifully clean sand.I had come provided this time with a longer rod, and, taking it in my trembling hands, I stood for a few moments upon the sand, anxious, but dreading to force it down lest it should be to prove that I had been deceived by my over-sanguine nature.Then, rousing myself, I thrust the rod down, when, at the depth of four feet, it came in contact with some obstacle.Drawing it up I tried again and again, Tom eagerly watching the while, as I proved to a certainty that there was something buried in the sand, extending over a space of about three feet by two, while elsewhere I could force the rod down to the depth of over five feet without let or hindrance.“Try yourself, Tom,” I said hoarsely, as I passed to him the rod, which he seized eagerly, and thrust down; while trembling with excitement I cautiously climbed the barrier, beneath which lay the hole, and peered over the rocks into the valley.Not a leaf moving—all hot and still in the morning sun; and I returned to Tom.“Well?” I said eagerly.“Well,” echoed Tom; “I should think it is well! Thereissomething buried here, Mas’r Harry, and it ain’t rocks, nor stones, nor wood. I fancy it’s a lead coffin, for it feels like it with the point of the rod.”“Nonsense!” I said impatiently. “There would be no lead coffins here, Tom.”“We’ll see, anyhow, Mas’r Harry,” he exclaimed. And seizing a spade he began to hurl the sand out furiously. “There’s a something down here, that’s certain,” he panted out between the spadefuls, “but what it is goodness knows. All I can say is that it’s a something.”“Let me come too, Tom,” I cried excitedly.“No, I shan’t, Mas’r Harry!” he exclaimed. “There ain’t room for both of us to work at once, and we shall only be tripping one another up. Let me work a spell, and then you can take a turn.”Tom dug away at a tremendous rate, the wet sand cutting out firmly and easily, and soon the hole grew deep and wide, when, suddenly resting, Tom looked up at me.“Say, Mas’r Harry,” he said, just as I leaped down into the hole, “go and see if there’s anybody coming.”“No,” I said, looking at him suspiciously; “go you.”“Course I will, Mas’r Harry!” he exclaimed. “But say, what a s’picious sort of a fellow you do get.”Then, jumping out, he took his turn at inspecting the ravine, peering cautiously through the creepers that covered the rocks, while I toiled hard at the spade, throwing up the wet sand.“Don’t throw no more this side, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom on his return. “Pitch it the other way. It’s been falling into the water and making it thick, so as it will go running down and telling everybody as we’re at work in here.”Tom’s words made me leap out of the hole.“Gracious, Tom!” I exclaimed, “what a fool I am!”“Well, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom bluntly, “I did think as you was just now, over that s’picion o’ yourn; but as to throwing the sand into the water, why, one can’t foresee everything. I don’t think there’s any harm done, though.”“I beg your pardon, Tom,” I exclaimed, holding out my hand, “it was ungenerous.”“All right, Mas’r Harry,” he said, taking my hand awkwardly, as if I had given him something to look at, and then he seemed to give it to me back again, when, once more turning to our task, we threw out the sand close under the rocky barrier, and it was well we did so, as will be seen in the end.“There’s something here. I can feel it with my spade, Mas’r Harry,” exclaimed Tom suddenly.And then, moved by the same tremulous nervous feeling as myself, he leapt out, and together we once more searched the vale with our eyes, to see nothing, though, but the same flagging leaves and the quivering motion of the bright transparent air. But as we descended once more, a snorting, whinnying noise from the mules came from within, and in our excitement and alarm we were about to thrust in the sand again to bury our treasure, only reason told us of the folly of the act.Spade in hand we ran into the gloom, and followed the winding of the track to where the mules were tethered, to find them uneasy and straining at their halters, as if something had alarmed them.

The time glided on, and I saw no more of Garcia; but, all the same, I could not help feeling that this calm might portend a storm.

My uncle was evidently very uneasy; but he said no more, merely proceeding with his business as usual, while with Tom I took trips here and there, making myself certainly now no burden, for we returned each evening loaded with game of some description—deer, fowl, or fish.

The first two days I saw at different times that we were followed; but afterwards it seemed that the spies, self-constituted or not, had given up their task, and that we were free to roam the forest as we pleased.

I grew hopeful upon making this discovery, and longingly looked forward for the night of our great adventure.

It seemed as if that night would never come, but it came at last.

Instead of going to my bed-room I stole out directly I had seen my uncle take his last cigar; and knowing that my absence would not be noticed, I made my way to the appointed place.

It was excessively dark—a favourable omen, I thought; and on reaching the little wood there was Tom smoking his pipe, with the bowl inside his jacket, though, had the ruddy glow been seen at a distance, it might easily have been taken for the lanthorn of a fire-fly.

“Seen any one, Tom?” I whispered.

“Not a soul, sir.”

“Have you got all we want?”

“I believe you, Mas’r Harry. Two spades, two mules, plenty to eat and drink, plenty of powder and lead, and coffee-bags enough—brand-new ones of your uncle’s—to put in all the treasure we shall find.”

I could not see Tom’s face, but I felt sure that he was indulging in a good grin. However, I said nothing; but enjoining caution, we each took the bridle of a mule and began to thread our way cautiously amongst the trees, taking the precaution of setting off in an opposite direction to that we intended afterwards to pursue.

It was a strange and a weird journey, but we went on hour after hour, and nothing molested us. About midnight we halted to let the beasts graze for half an hour in a grassy vale, while we did what Tom called the same; our pasture being cake, and our drink spirit and water.

Refreshed by our short halt, we again journeyed, and from time to time, after giving Tom the bridle of my mule, I stayed back to listen and try to discover whether we were followed; but, save the cry of some beast, there was nothing to be heard.

About two hours after midnight we struck the little stream, and soon after were well in the ravine, when, for the purpose of exercising greater caution, and, as Tom said, running the risk of being stung, we each took the bridle of our mule over one arm and went down on all fours, crawling forward; and so slow was our progress that, were we watched and a glimpse of us obtained, I felt certain that we must be taken for a little herd slowly grazing towards the mouth of the great cavern.

We reached the rocky pass at last, and then, muffling the feet of the mules with the coffee-bags, we took them cautiously on—the intelligent beasts clambering carefully and with hardly a sound—when we led them right in for some distance, gave them the maize we had brought, and then sat down in the darkness listening to their crunching of the grain and the loud cries of the guacharo birds as they flew in and out, fortifying ourselves the while with a hearty meal—Tom foregoing his pipe for reasons of cautious tendency.

According to my calculations the day would break in about an hour’s time; and during that hour, but always on the alert, we stretched ourselves upon the sand to rest, listening to every sound; for there was the possibility, we knew, of there being enemies, biped or quadruped, within a few yards of where we rested.

Towards daybreak it turned intensely cold—colder than I could have imagined possible in a tropic land; but we were prepared to bear cold as well as danger, for a fire would, of course, have been inviting observation.

Day at last; with a glorious flush of light reaching down the valley, and making the stalactites on the roof to glisten. But our ideas now were bent on the object we had in view, and nature’s magnificence was unnoticed.

As soon as the light had penetrated sufficiently, we led the mules farther in, and secured them in the broad passage, so that they could reach the water of the stream; our next step being to creep cautiously to the rocky barrier, and, well sheltering ourselves, to watch long and carefully for some sign of spies.

We did so for a full hour, but the silence of the place was even awful. Then the grey dawn brightened into the sweet fresh morning, with the heavy dew glistening in the sunshine as it dripped from the great tropic leaves—otherwise all was still; and convinced at length that those who had hitherto dogged our steps had for this time been eluded, I made a sign to Tom; and going in about fifty yards, we seized our spades and began to throw the light soil and sand into the bed of the little stream, shovelful after shovelful, so as to form a dam, which was at first washed down nearly as fast as we piled it up; but at last our efforts were successful, and the dammed-up water began to flow aside, cutting for itself a new channel through the sand, and making its exit a few feet nearer the rocky barrier, but taking up its former course on the other side.

We rested then for a few minutes, faint and hot; but the excitement of the quest took from us the sense of fatigue, for the water had all drained away from the bed of the stream, and the little pool close under the rocky barrier now presented the appearance of a depression whose bottom was covered with a beautifully clean sand.

I had come provided this time with a longer rod, and, taking it in my trembling hands, I stood for a few moments upon the sand, anxious, but dreading to force it down lest it should be to prove that I had been deceived by my over-sanguine nature.

Then, rousing myself, I thrust the rod down, when, at the depth of four feet, it came in contact with some obstacle.

Drawing it up I tried again and again, Tom eagerly watching the while, as I proved to a certainty that there was something buried in the sand, extending over a space of about three feet by two, while elsewhere I could force the rod down to the depth of over five feet without let or hindrance.

“Try yourself, Tom,” I said hoarsely, as I passed to him the rod, which he seized eagerly, and thrust down; while trembling with excitement I cautiously climbed the barrier, beneath which lay the hole, and peered over the rocks into the valley.

Not a leaf moving—all hot and still in the morning sun; and I returned to Tom.

“Well?” I said eagerly.

“Well,” echoed Tom; “I should think it is well! Thereissomething buried here, Mas’r Harry, and it ain’t rocks, nor stones, nor wood. I fancy it’s a lead coffin, for it feels like it with the point of the rod.”

“Nonsense!” I said impatiently. “There would be no lead coffins here, Tom.”

“We’ll see, anyhow, Mas’r Harry,” he exclaimed. And seizing a spade he began to hurl the sand out furiously. “There’s a something down here, that’s certain,” he panted out between the spadefuls, “but what it is goodness knows. All I can say is that it’s a something.”

“Let me come too, Tom,” I cried excitedly.

“No, I shan’t, Mas’r Harry!” he exclaimed. “There ain’t room for both of us to work at once, and we shall only be tripping one another up. Let me work a spell, and then you can take a turn.”

Tom dug away at a tremendous rate, the wet sand cutting out firmly and easily, and soon the hole grew deep and wide, when, suddenly resting, Tom looked up at me.

“Say, Mas’r Harry,” he said, just as I leaped down into the hole, “go and see if there’s anybody coming.”

“No,” I said, looking at him suspiciously; “go you.”

“Course I will, Mas’r Harry!” he exclaimed. “But say, what a s’picious sort of a fellow you do get.”

Then, jumping out, he took his turn at inspecting the ravine, peering cautiously through the creepers that covered the rocks, while I toiled hard at the spade, throwing up the wet sand.

“Don’t throw no more this side, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom on his return. “Pitch it the other way. It’s been falling into the water and making it thick, so as it will go running down and telling everybody as we’re at work in here.”

Tom’s words made me leap out of the hole.

“Gracious, Tom!” I exclaimed, “what a fool I am!”

“Well, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom bluntly, “I did think as you was just now, over that s’picion o’ yourn; but as to throwing the sand into the water, why, one can’t foresee everything. I don’t think there’s any harm done, though.”

“I beg your pardon, Tom,” I exclaimed, holding out my hand, “it was ungenerous.”

“All right, Mas’r Harry,” he said, taking my hand awkwardly, as if I had given him something to look at, and then he seemed to give it to me back again, when, once more turning to our task, we threw out the sand close under the rocky barrier, and it was well we did so, as will be seen in the end.

“There’s something here. I can feel it with my spade, Mas’r Harry,” exclaimed Tom suddenly.

And then, moved by the same tremulous nervous feeling as myself, he leapt out, and together we once more searched the vale with our eyes, to see nothing, though, but the same flagging leaves and the quivering motion of the bright transparent air. But as we descended once more, a snorting, whinnying noise from the mules came from within, and in our excitement and alarm we were about to thrust in the sand again to bury our treasure, only reason told us of the folly of the act.

Spade in hand we ran into the gloom, and followed the winding of the track to where the mules were tethered, to find them uneasy and straining at their halters, as if something had alarmed them.

Chapter Thirty Three.Mica or Gold.“Ah! there’s some one about, Mas’r Harry, I’m ’fear’d,” whispered Tom. “I wish we’d covered the stuff up again. What do you say to taking a light and going right in?”Tom’s advice seemed so sensible that we ran back, fetched a candle and the matches, got a light, and then carefully examined the cave, peering wherever it seemed possible for any one to hide.But our search was in vain, though we penetrated right to the point on the great gulf, and peered into the dark arch. As far as we could see all was silent, solemn, and grand, and we had nothing to fear from behind us while we worked.“Well, it’s been a deal of bother, Mas’r Harry; but it’s better than thinking every moment that there’s some one going to jump out on you.”The mules were quiet as we passed them on our way back, and we then inspected the valley from the spot we called our observatory, but all was still; and hastily seizing a spade, I was once more digging away, Tom casting aside the sand I threw out.The edge of the spade touched something now every time I thrust it in. I had but to stoop and force in my fingers to feel the buried object; but moved by that spirit which induces people to examine so carefully the outside of a strange letter, when the interior is at their disposal, I feasted expectancy for a few minutes longer, telling myself that I would carefully clear out all the sand before I tried to ascertain what our treasure might be.That was an exciting period, and I can picture it all even now: the great cave, with its vast arch protruding right over the barrier, so that we were toiling in the shadow of the huge vault, filled by day with an ever-deepening golden mellow gloom—a gloom deepening into blackness in the far depths; the trickling water, fresh from its mysterious source in the great amphitheatre; our splashed and stained figures, toiling together now in the pit we had dug; and the friendly scuffle which took place when, the sand being well cleared out, Tom stooped, but only to be arrested by my hand.“No,” I exclaimed, “let me, Tom!”Then, with painfully throbbing heart I bent down, the blood seeming to flush to my head so as to nearly blind me.The next moment my fingers were groping about amongst the sand and water.“Be quick, Mas’r Harry, please, or I shall bust!” cried Tom, just as my fingers encountered something hard.With a cry of joy I rose up, to exhibit to the staring eyes of Tom Bulk a glittering yellow stone.“Gold, Tom—gold!” I exclaimed. “And here’s more and more!”I stooped down, to bring up two, three, four more lumps of the same glittering yellow stone.“No, ’tain’t, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom, gruffly, as he turned over one of the fragments in his hand. “That ain’t gold at all; that’s what they calls mica. I allers reclect the name, cause it’s the same as one of the prophets we used to read about at school. You might get plenty of that in the rocks, without much trouble. It’s just the same stuff as some mates of mine once got out of a gravel pit at home, and they took it to the watchmaker in the town, and they says to him, ‘What’s that gold worth?’ they says. ‘Which gold?’ he says. ‘Why, that,’ they says. ‘That’s no more gold than you are,’ he says; ‘that’s mica.’ And then he told them that they might allers tell gold in a moment, by pulling out a knife and trying to cut it, when if it was gold it would cut easy like, just the same as a piece of lead. Try that, Mas’r Harry.”Snatching out my knife, I cut at one of the pieces of yellow stone, to find it splinter under the keen edge of my blade.“I’ll swear, though, that the pynt of that rod hit something else besides them bits of stone, Mas’r Harry. Try again; or, no—let me try.”The disappointment was so keen, that for a few moments I was speechless, and offered no opposition to Tom, who began to grope about with both hands to bring up dozens more pieces of the micaceous rock, and then a piece of flint that seemed to have been chipped into shape, and then a long obsidian blade.“We’re a-coming to something after all, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom. “Here’s a cur’osity, and here—here—here’s—pah! I don’t like handling them.”As he spoke, Tom held out to my view three or four blackened bones, which he threw down again amongst the sand and water at the bottom.“We shall come to the leaden coffin after all, Mas’r Harry,” he said. “This has been a berryin’ place after a fight, p’r’aps; but is it worth while to disturb it?”I did not answer, for my attention had been taken up by a slight sound towards the interior of the cave.“Here, quick, Tom!” I exclaimed.He leaped out in an instant, just as, with a fierce rush, the pent-up water conquered our little dam, took to its old bed, and swept down sand and soil, filling up our pit in a few minutes as it bore all before it, and then subsided quietly into its former course, the sand sucking up the moisture where it had levelled; and to a casual observer the cave seemed as if it had been untouched for ages.“Well that’s pleasant, certainly,” said Tom coolly; “but ’taint so bad as it might have been. We haven’t got wet. Never mind, Mas’r Harry, we’ll have it out again by-and-by. There’s more in that hole yet than we have seen. Them bits of yaller stuff weren’t put in for nothing. But let’s go up again to the prog and have a good feed before we begin again; and, suppose you bring your spade?”I followed Tom mechanically, spade in hand, to where, behind a mass of rock, we had made our storehouse, and seating ourselves in the gloomy shade I was busily opening my wallet, when Tom, who was getting some maize for the mules, suddenly pressed my shoulder and pointing in the direction of the cave’s mouth, I heard him whisper the one word:“Look!”I looked, with my eyes seeming to be glued to the spot, as slowly there appeared above the rugged line formed by the top of the rocky barrier a human head, another, and another, with intervals of a dozen yards between each; and then they remained motionless, gazing straight forward into the great cavern.

“Ah! there’s some one about, Mas’r Harry, I’m ’fear’d,” whispered Tom. “I wish we’d covered the stuff up again. What do you say to taking a light and going right in?”

Tom’s advice seemed so sensible that we ran back, fetched a candle and the matches, got a light, and then carefully examined the cave, peering wherever it seemed possible for any one to hide.

But our search was in vain, though we penetrated right to the point on the great gulf, and peered into the dark arch. As far as we could see all was silent, solemn, and grand, and we had nothing to fear from behind us while we worked.

“Well, it’s been a deal of bother, Mas’r Harry; but it’s better than thinking every moment that there’s some one going to jump out on you.”

The mules were quiet as we passed them on our way back, and we then inspected the valley from the spot we called our observatory, but all was still; and hastily seizing a spade, I was once more digging away, Tom casting aside the sand I threw out.

The edge of the spade touched something now every time I thrust it in. I had but to stoop and force in my fingers to feel the buried object; but moved by that spirit which induces people to examine so carefully the outside of a strange letter, when the interior is at their disposal, I feasted expectancy for a few minutes longer, telling myself that I would carefully clear out all the sand before I tried to ascertain what our treasure might be.

That was an exciting period, and I can picture it all even now: the great cave, with its vast arch protruding right over the barrier, so that we were toiling in the shadow of the huge vault, filled by day with an ever-deepening golden mellow gloom—a gloom deepening into blackness in the far depths; the trickling water, fresh from its mysterious source in the great amphitheatre; our splashed and stained figures, toiling together now in the pit we had dug; and the friendly scuffle which took place when, the sand being well cleared out, Tom stooped, but only to be arrested by my hand.

“No,” I exclaimed, “let me, Tom!”

Then, with painfully throbbing heart I bent down, the blood seeming to flush to my head so as to nearly blind me.

The next moment my fingers were groping about amongst the sand and water.

“Be quick, Mas’r Harry, please, or I shall bust!” cried Tom, just as my fingers encountered something hard.

With a cry of joy I rose up, to exhibit to the staring eyes of Tom Bulk a glittering yellow stone.

“Gold, Tom—gold!” I exclaimed. “And here’s more and more!”

I stooped down, to bring up two, three, four more lumps of the same glittering yellow stone.

“No, ’tain’t, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom, gruffly, as he turned over one of the fragments in his hand. “That ain’t gold at all; that’s what they calls mica. I allers reclect the name, cause it’s the same as one of the prophets we used to read about at school. You might get plenty of that in the rocks, without much trouble. It’s just the same stuff as some mates of mine once got out of a gravel pit at home, and they took it to the watchmaker in the town, and they says to him, ‘What’s that gold worth?’ they says. ‘Which gold?’ he says. ‘Why, that,’ they says. ‘That’s no more gold than you are,’ he says; ‘that’s mica.’ And then he told them that they might allers tell gold in a moment, by pulling out a knife and trying to cut it, when if it was gold it would cut easy like, just the same as a piece of lead. Try that, Mas’r Harry.”

Snatching out my knife, I cut at one of the pieces of yellow stone, to find it splinter under the keen edge of my blade.

“I’ll swear, though, that the pynt of that rod hit something else besides them bits of stone, Mas’r Harry. Try again; or, no—let me try.”

The disappointment was so keen, that for a few moments I was speechless, and offered no opposition to Tom, who began to grope about with both hands to bring up dozens more pieces of the micaceous rock, and then a piece of flint that seemed to have been chipped into shape, and then a long obsidian blade.

“We’re a-coming to something after all, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom. “Here’s a cur’osity, and here—here—here’s—pah! I don’t like handling them.”

As he spoke, Tom held out to my view three or four blackened bones, which he threw down again amongst the sand and water at the bottom.

“We shall come to the leaden coffin after all, Mas’r Harry,” he said. “This has been a berryin’ place after a fight, p’r’aps; but is it worth while to disturb it?”

I did not answer, for my attention had been taken up by a slight sound towards the interior of the cave.

“Here, quick, Tom!” I exclaimed.

He leaped out in an instant, just as, with a fierce rush, the pent-up water conquered our little dam, took to its old bed, and swept down sand and soil, filling up our pit in a few minutes as it bore all before it, and then subsided quietly into its former course, the sand sucking up the moisture where it had levelled; and to a casual observer the cave seemed as if it had been untouched for ages.

“Well that’s pleasant, certainly,” said Tom coolly; “but ’taint so bad as it might have been. We haven’t got wet. Never mind, Mas’r Harry, we’ll have it out again by-and-by. There’s more in that hole yet than we have seen. Them bits of yaller stuff weren’t put in for nothing. But let’s go up again to the prog and have a good feed before we begin again; and, suppose you bring your spade?”

I followed Tom mechanically, spade in hand, to where, behind a mass of rock, we had made our storehouse, and seating ourselves in the gloomy shade I was busily opening my wallet, when Tom, who was getting some maize for the mules, suddenly pressed my shoulder and pointing in the direction of the cave’s mouth, I heard him whisper the one word:

“Look!”

I looked, with my eyes seeming to be glued to the spot, as slowly there appeared above the rugged line formed by the top of the rocky barrier a human head, another, and another, with intervals of a dozen yards between each; and then they remained motionless, gazing straight forward into the great cavern.

Chapter Thirty Four.Our Work renewed.Could they see us, or could they not?It was a hard trial sitting there motionless, wondering whether those eager, searching eyes could penetrate as far through the gloom as where we sat. It seemed they could not, as, for full ten minutes, their owners rested there peering over the massive rocks.The least movement on our part, a whinny or a snort from the mules, would have been sufficient to have betrayed our whereabouts, and bloodshed would, perhaps, have followed; but all remained still, save once, when I heard Tom’s gun-lock give a faint click just as first one and then another head was being withdrawn.“There, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom in a whisper. “What do you think of that? They’re on the look-out for us you see. And we got grumbling about the little dam breaking, when what did it break to do? Why, to smooth over the rough work we had done, so as those copper-coloured gentlemen shouldn’t see it and make a row. But, say Mas’r Harry, I a’most wonder they didn’t see the water look thick. P’r’aps they will yet, so I wouldn’t move.”Tom’s advice was so good that we sat for quite a couple of hours, when I told him of the plans I had made.“Tom,” I said, “it was an act of folly for us to be working there without one of us watching. I tell you what we must do, we must rest till it begins to grow dusk, and then begin working in the dark. Do you see?”“Well, I can see now, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom grinning; “but I don’t see how I’m going to see then. How so be: just as you like. I’m ready when you are.”The afternoon passed, the sun disappeared behind the mountains, and the dark shadows began to fall, just as with a loud shriek bird after bird winged its way out of the cavern for its nightly quest of food. We stole to the barrier, looked long and cautiously down the valley, and then set to work in the dim and fast-fading light to dam the stream—this time taking the precaution to lay lumps of rock and stalactites in the bed to support our embankment of sand and earth; when once more the stream took another course, the bed was dry, and in silence we stepped down to the site of our former labours.I was not so sanguine now of the toil proving remunerative; but from the little knowledge I possessed of the Indian’s superstitious character I felt pretty sure that they would not venture by night to a cavern whose interior was clothed by them with endless mysterious terrors, though it possessed terrors enough, as we well knew, without the aid of superstition. But all the same, there was the chance of others having an object in watching us, so every spadeful was thrown out in silence, every word spoken in a whisper. The night came on impenetrably black and obscure, but we worked on, feeling our way lower and lower, taking turn and turn, till once more we stood in the pit we had dug, and commenced groping about with our hands, for the spades told us that we had come to whatever was buried.“More of these yaller stones,” said Tom.We threw out as quietly as we could a couple of hundred rough lumps about the size of those fragments of granite used for macadamising a modern road.“Tom,” I said, after trying about with my spade, “there’s something more here. I believe those pieces were put in to deceive whoever searched.”“Let me clear out a little more of the sand, Mas’r Harry.”He threw out a few more spadefuls, filling the spade each time with his hands so as to throw out nothing more than sand; and then once more we began to feel about.“What’s that, Tom?” I whispered hastily.I knew by his exclamation that he had found something particular.“Nothin’ at all,” said Tom sulkily.“I insist upon knowing what it is,” I cried angrily, as I caught him by the arm.For—it must have been the influence of the gold—I again felt suspicious.“There it is, then,” said Tom gruffly, “ketch hold.”I eagerly took that which he had handed to me, and then with a shudder of disgust hurled it away, as the gravedigger scene in “Hamlet” flashed across my mind; and then we worked on in silence.“Bones,” said Tom, “flint-knife things, and, hallo! what’s that you’ve got, Mas’r Harry?” he exclaimed in a sharp whisper.In my turn I had uttered an exclamation as my hands came in contact with a flat heavy piece of metal, which, upon being balanced upon a finger and tapped, gave forth a sonorous ring.“I don’t know, Tom,” I whispered huskily, “but—but it feels like what we are in search of.”“Do you think it is gold, Mas’r Harry?” he hissed in a voice that told of his own excitement.“Gold or silver, Tom,” I said in a choking voice.Then I felt faint. Suspicions of a horrible nature seemed to float across my brain. “Suppose,” I thought, “Tom should murder me now to possess himself of the treasure, load the mules, and then bury me in the grave we had dug. The water would flow over it again in a few hours, and who would ever suspect the man who went away laden with wealth?”The next moment, though, I had driven away the base thoughts, and was leaning against the rock above me.“Tom,” I said, “I’m faint; go and fetch the spirits.”“I will that, Mas’r Harry,” he whispered, “for I don’t know how it is, I’m feeling rather queer myself. It’s this stuff, I think. I’ve got hold of one of these little tiles, and one can’t see it, but it feels yaller.”Tom passed another plate into my hands, when running my fingers over it my heart beat more rapidly, for I could feel an embossed surface that told of cunning work, and I longed intensely to get a light and examine what we had found though I knew such a proceeding would be folly.In a few minutes Tom was back, and a draught from the bottle we had brought revived us, so that we quickly cleared out the wet sand and water that kept filtering in, and then as fast as we could grope drew out plate after plate and placed them in one of the coffee-bags Tom had brought.We did not need telling that it was gold. The sonorous ring told that as plate touched plate. The darkness, as I said, was intense. But I could almost fancy that a bright yellow phosphorescent halo was spread around each plate as we drew it from its sandy bed.“But suppose, Mas’r Harry, as it’s only brass?” whispered Tom suddenly.“Brass, Tom? No, it’s gold—rich, yellow gold; and now who dares say I’m a beggar?”“Not me, Mas’r Harry. But I won’t believe it’s gold till I’ve seen it by daylight. ’Tain’t lead, or it wouldn’t ring. ’Tain’t iron, for it will cut. I’ve been trying it.”“Hush, Tom!” I said hoarsely. “Work—work! or it will be day, and we shall be discovered.”As I spoke I bent down into the hole to drag out what felt like a vase, but all beaten in and flattened. Then another, and four or five curiously shaped vessels.“Fetch another bag, Tom,” I whispered; for the one we now had felt heavy, and I wanted them to be portable.“Wait a bit, Mas’r Harry,” whispered Tom. “Here’s a rum un here—big as a table top. Lend a hand, will you.”Both trembling with excitement we toiled and strained, and at last extricated a great flat circular plate that seemed to weigh forty or fifty pounds, and stood it against the rock.And now in the wild thirst I forgot all about bags or concealment as we kept scraping out the sand and water, and then brought out more plates, more cups, thin flat sheets, bars of the thickness of a finger and six inches long. Then another great round disc similar to the one I had dragged out with Tom; and then—then—sand—water—sand—water—sand—one solitary plate.“There must be more, Tom!” I whispered excitedly. “Where is the rod?”He felt about for a few minutes, and I heard the metal clinking upon metal as he drew the iron rod towards him. Then, feeling for the pointed end, he thrust it down here and there again and again.“Try you, Mas’r Harry,” he said huskily.I took the rod, and felt with it all over the pit; but everywhere it ran down easily into the sand, and I felt that we must have got all there was hidden there. And now, for the first time, I began to think of the value. Why, if this were all pure gold that lay piled-up by our side, there must be thousands upon thousands of pounds’ worth—twenty thousands at the least. But a pang shot through my brain the next instant, for the thought had struck me, suppose it should prove but copper after all.The day would show it, and the day I hoped would soon be there. But now a new trouble assailed me. What about Tom—what share would he expect?“Mas’r Harry,” said Tom just then, “if this here all turns out to be gold you’ll be a rich man, won’t you?”“Yes, Tom,” I said, “very wealthy.”My words would hardly leave my lips. “Then you’ll do the handsome thing by me when I get married, won’t you, Mas’r Harry?”“What shall I do, Tom?” I said, wondering the while what he would say.“’Low me a pound a week and my ’bacco as long as I live.”“Yes, Tom, two if you like,” I exclaimed aloud. “But now lend a hand here and let’s get these behind the rock farther in.”Fatigue! We never gave that a thought, as, each seizing one of the round shields, we carried them cautiously in and felt our way to where was the food, taking back with us more of the coffee-bags, in which we carefully packed the flattened cups, and each bore back a heavy bag, but only hastily to return again and again to collect the plates, and sheets, and bars we had rapidly thrown out; when we returned once more to throw ourselves upon the sand and feel over it with our hands again and again, creeping in every direction, forcing in our fingers and running the sand through them till we felt certain that nothing was left behind.“Now, then, Tom,” I said. “Quick!—the spades. There must not be a trace of this night’s work left at daybreak.”Tom’s hard breathing was the only response, as, seizing his spade and giving me mine, he forced back the sand, helping me to shovel it in until the floor was once more pretty level, and we knew the water would do the rest, even to removing the traces of our running to and fro, unless the sharp Indian eye should be applied closely to the floor of the cavern.We toiled on, working furiously in our excitement, feeling about so as to compensate as well as we could for the want of sight, till I knew that no more could be done, when, retreating inward to where we had dammed the stream, we let the water flow swiftly back into its old channel, leaving the bits of rock where they were, save one or two whose loosening soon set the water free, so that it swept with a rush over the place where we had so lately toiled; and then, dripping with perspiration and water, we went and sat down to eat and rest just as the first faint streaks of dawn began to show in the valley, and we could see that there was a barrier across the mouth of the cave.

Could they see us, or could they not?

It was a hard trial sitting there motionless, wondering whether those eager, searching eyes could penetrate as far through the gloom as where we sat. It seemed they could not, as, for full ten minutes, their owners rested there peering over the massive rocks.

The least movement on our part, a whinny or a snort from the mules, would have been sufficient to have betrayed our whereabouts, and bloodshed would, perhaps, have followed; but all remained still, save once, when I heard Tom’s gun-lock give a faint click just as first one and then another head was being withdrawn.

“There, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom in a whisper. “What do you think of that? They’re on the look-out for us you see. And we got grumbling about the little dam breaking, when what did it break to do? Why, to smooth over the rough work we had done, so as those copper-coloured gentlemen shouldn’t see it and make a row. But, say Mas’r Harry, I a’most wonder they didn’t see the water look thick. P’r’aps they will yet, so I wouldn’t move.”

Tom’s advice was so good that we sat for quite a couple of hours, when I told him of the plans I had made.

“Tom,” I said, “it was an act of folly for us to be working there without one of us watching. I tell you what we must do, we must rest till it begins to grow dusk, and then begin working in the dark. Do you see?”

“Well, I can see now, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom grinning; “but I don’t see how I’m going to see then. How so be: just as you like. I’m ready when you are.”

The afternoon passed, the sun disappeared behind the mountains, and the dark shadows began to fall, just as with a loud shriek bird after bird winged its way out of the cavern for its nightly quest of food. We stole to the barrier, looked long and cautiously down the valley, and then set to work in the dim and fast-fading light to dam the stream—this time taking the precaution to lay lumps of rock and stalactites in the bed to support our embankment of sand and earth; when once more the stream took another course, the bed was dry, and in silence we stepped down to the site of our former labours.

I was not so sanguine now of the toil proving remunerative; but from the little knowledge I possessed of the Indian’s superstitious character I felt pretty sure that they would not venture by night to a cavern whose interior was clothed by them with endless mysterious terrors, though it possessed terrors enough, as we well knew, without the aid of superstition. But all the same, there was the chance of others having an object in watching us, so every spadeful was thrown out in silence, every word spoken in a whisper. The night came on impenetrably black and obscure, but we worked on, feeling our way lower and lower, taking turn and turn, till once more we stood in the pit we had dug, and commenced groping about with our hands, for the spades told us that we had come to whatever was buried.

“More of these yaller stones,” said Tom.

We threw out as quietly as we could a couple of hundred rough lumps about the size of those fragments of granite used for macadamising a modern road.

“Tom,” I said, after trying about with my spade, “there’s something more here. I believe those pieces were put in to deceive whoever searched.”

“Let me clear out a little more of the sand, Mas’r Harry.”

He threw out a few more spadefuls, filling the spade each time with his hands so as to throw out nothing more than sand; and then once more we began to feel about.

“What’s that, Tom?” I whispered hastily.

I knew by his exclamation that he had found something particular.

“Nothin’ at all,” said Tom sulkily.

“I insist upon knowing what it is,” I cried angrily, as I caught him by the arm.

For—it must have been the influence of the gold—I again felt suspicious.

“There it is, then,” said Tom gruffly, “ketch hold.”

I eagerly took that which he had handed to me, and then with a shudder of disgust hurled it away, as the gravedigger scene in “Hamlet” flashed across my mind; and then we worked on in silence.

“Bones,” said Tom, “flint-knife things, and, hallo! what’s that you’ve got, Mas’r Harry?” he exclaimed in a sharp whisper.

In my turn I had uttered an exclamation as my hands came in contact with a flat heavy piece of metal, which, upon being balanced upon a finger and tapped, gave forth a sonorous ring.

“I don’t know, Tom,” I whispered huskily, “but—but it feels like what we are in search of.”

“Do you think it is gold, Mas’r Harry?” he hissed in a voice that told of his own excitement.

“Gold or silver, Tom,” I said in a choking voice.

Then I felt faint. Suspicions of a horrible nature seemed to float across my brain. “Suppose,” I thought, “Tom should murder me now to possess himself of the treasure, load the mules, and then bury me in the grave we had dug. The water would flow over it again in a few hours, and who would ever suspect the man who went away laden with wealth?”

The next moment, though, I had driven away the base thoughts, and was leaning against the rock above me.

“Tom,” I said, “I’m faint; go and fetch the spirits.”

“I will that, Mas’r Harry,” he whispered, “for I don’t know how it is, I’m feeling rather queer myself. It’s this stuff, I think. I’ve got hold of one of these little tiles, and one can’t see it, but it feels yaller.”

Tom passed another plate into my hands, when running my fingers over it my heart beat more rapidly, for I could feel an embossed surface that told of cunning work, and I longed intensely to get a light and examine what we had found though I knew such a proceeding would be folly.

In a few minutes Tom was back, and a draught from the bottle we had brought revived us, so that we quickly cleared out the wet sand and water that kept filtering in, and then as fast as we could grope drew out plate after plate and placed them in one of the coffee-bags Tom had brought.

We did not need telling that it was gold. The sonorous ring told that as plate touched plate. The darkness, as I said, was intense. But I could almost fancy that a bright yellow phosphorescent halo was spread around each plate as we drew it from its sandy bed.

“But suppose, Mas’r Harry, as it’s only brass?” whispered Tom suddenly.

“Brass, Tom? No, it’s gold—rich, yellow gold; and now who dares say I’m a beggar?”

“Not me, Mas’r Harry. But I won’t believe it’s gold till I’ve seen it by daylight. ’Tain’t lead, or it wouldn’t ring. ’Tain’t iron, for it will cut. I’ve been trying it.”

“Hush, Tom!” I said hoarsely. “Work—work! or it will be day, and we shall be discovered.”

As I spoke I bent down into the hole to drag out what felt like a vase, but all beaten in and flattened. Then another, and four or five curiously shaped vessels.

“Fetch another bag, Tom,” I whispered; for the one we now had felt heavy, and I wanted them to be portable.

“Wait a bit, Mas’r Harry,” whispered Tom. “Here’s a rum un here—big as a table top. Lend a hand, will you.”

Both trembling with excitement we toiled and strained, and at last extricated a great flat circular plate that seemed to weigh forty or fifty pounds, and stood it against the rock.

And now in the wild thirst I forgot all about bags or concealment as we kept scraping out the sand and water, and then brought out more plates, more cups, thin flat sheets, bars of the thickness of a finger and six inches long. Then another great round disc similar to the one I had dragged out with Tom; and then—then—sand—water—sand—water—sand—one solitary plate.

“There must be more, Tom!” I whispered excitedly. “Where is the rod?”

He felt about for a few minutes, and I heard the metal clinking upon metal as he drew the iron rod towards him. Then, feeling for the pointed end, he thrust it down here and there again and again.

“Try you, Mas’r Harry,” he said huskily.

I took the rod, and felt with it all over the pit; but everywhere it ran down easily into the sand, and I felt that we must have got all there was hidden there. And now, for the first time, I began to think of the value. Why, if this were all pure gold that lay piled-up by our side, there must be thousands upon thousands of pounds’ worth—twenty thousands at the least. But a pang shot through my brain the next instant, for the thought had struck me, suppose it should prove but copper after all.

The day would show it, and the day I hoped would soon be there. But now a new trouble assailed me. What about Tom—what share would he expect?

“Mas’r Harry,” said Tom just then, “if this here all turns out to be gold you’ll be a rich man, won’t you?”

“Yes, Tom,” I said, “very wealthy.”

My words would hardly leave my lips. “Then you’ll do the handsome thing by me when I get married, won’t you, Mas’r Harry?”

“What shall I do, Tom?” I said, wondering the while what he would say.

“’Low me a pound a week and my ’bacco as long as I live.”

“Yes, Tom, two if you like,” I exclaimed aloud. “But now lend a hand here and let’s get these behind the rock farther in.”

Fatigue! We never gave that a thought, as, each seizing one of the round shields, we carried them cautiously in and felt our way to where was the food, taking back with us more of the coffee-bags, in which we carefully packed the flattened cups, and each bore back a heavy bag, but only hastily to return again and again to collect the plates, and sheets, and bars we had rapidly thrown out; when we returned once more to throw ourselves upon the sand and feel over it with our hands again and again, creeping in every direction, forcing in our fingers and running the sand through them till we felt certain that nothing was left behind.

“Now, then, Tom,” I said. “Quick!—the spades. There must not be a trace of this night’s work left at daybreak.”

Tom’s hard breathing was the only response, as, seizing his spade and giving me mine, he forced back the sand, helping me to shovel it in until the floor was once more pretty level, and we knew the water would do the rest, even to removing the traces of our running to and fro, unless the sharp Indian eye should be applied closely to the floor of the cavern.

We toiled on, working furiously in our excitement, feeling about so as to compensate as well as we could for the want of sight, till I knew that no more could be done, when, retreating inward to where we had dammed the stream, we let the water flow swiftly back into its old channel, leaving the bits of rock where they were, save one or two whose loosening soon set the water free, so that it swept with a rush over the place where we had so lately toiled; and then, dripping with perspiration and water, we went and sat down to eat and rest just as the first faint streaks of dawn began to show in the valley, and we could see that there was a barrier across the mouth of the cave.

Chapter Thirty Five.Exciting Times.Light—more light, but still not enough to tell of what our treasure was composed. If we had been at the mouth of the cave it would have been, possible, but where we were the darkness was still thick darkness.Twice I had impatiently gazed at the metal I had been fingering with all a miser’s avidity, when my attention was taken by an object upon a rock close by where we had worked during the night—a toil that I had been ready to declare a dream, time after time, but for the solid reality beneath my hands.Tom caught sight of the object at the same moment as myself; and together, moved by the same impulse, we raced down, secured it, and then ran panting back with a gloriously-worked but batteredgoldencup, that we had placed upon the rock above us, and which had thus escaped our search.The next minute we were gazing tremblingly back to see whether we had been observed, for to lose now the wondrous treasure in our grasp seemed unbearable.But no—all was still; and, for my part, I could do nothing but pant with excitement as the truth dawned more upon me with the coming day, that I was by this one stroke immensely rich. The treasure was gold—rich, ruddy gold, all save one of the great round shields, and that was of massive silver, black almost as ink with tarnish; while its fellow-shield—a sun, as I now saw, as I afterwards made out the other to be a representation of the moon—was of the richer metal.I was right, then—Garcia could be set at defiance, my uncle freed. But it was all too good to be true; and that little If thrust itself into my thoughts—that little If that has so much to do with our lives.IfI could get the gold safely away!My brow knit as I thought of this, and my hand closed involuntarily upon the gun; but directly after I felt that we must bestir ourselves to pack our treasure safely.“Let us have something by way of breakfast, Tom,” I said hastily, after throwing my coat over the part of the treasure visible.We ate as people eat whose thoughts are upon other things, till we were roused by a whinnying from the interior of the cave, when Tom hastily carried some maize to the mules so as to ensure their silence in case of the Indians again approaching the place.As far as I could make out from the obscurity where I was there was not a trace of the sand having been disturbed—the water had removed it all; but I trembled as I thought of the consequences of some Indian eye having seen the golden vessel, for I knew that we should never have been allowed to return alive.My plans now were to spend a portion of the day in carefully packing our treasure as compactly as possible, and then, when night had well fallen, loading the mules and making the best of our way to the hacienda—easy practicable plans apparently; but Fate declared that I had not yet earned the wealth.I said that Tom had gone to see about the mules, and for a few minutes I was hesitating about the nearest bag to me—one which, from the feel, contained a mixture of bars, plates, and cups, that I knew might be packed in a quarter the space.I looked to the mouth of the cave; all was sunshine there; but it was dark where I stood, and feeling that if the task of packing was to be done, the sooner it was set about the better, I seized the bag, drew out a large and massive vessel, two or three plates that must have formed a part of the covering of some barbaric altar, and was about to draw forth more, when I heard a faint noise, and, turning, Tom sprang upon me with a fierce look in his countenance, bore me down amongst the treasure, and laid his hand upon my mouth. His whole weight was upon me, and he had me in such a position that all struggling seemed vain; but with the thought strong upon me that the temptation of the gold had been too much for him, and that as some victim had evidently been sacrificed at its burial I was to fall at its disinterring, I bowed myself up, and the next moment should have endeavoured to throw him off, had not his lips been applied to my ear and a few words been whispered which sent the blood flowing, frightened, back to my heart, as the full extent of their meaning came home.“Mas’r Harry, don’t move: you’re watched!”It was no time for speaking, and I was in such a position that I could not see, while for quite a quarter of an hour we lay there motionless, when, gliding aside, Tom made room for me to rise, pointing the while towards the mouth of the cave, through which I could see, some distance down the ravine, a couple of Indians curiously peering about, and more than once stooping cautiously over the little stream which there ran, half-hidden by rocks and undergrowth.“They’re looking to see if the water’s muddy, Mas’r Harry,” whispered Tom. And then, directly after, “Creep back a little more behind the rock here; they’re coming this way again.”What! step back and leave the treasure? No, I felt that I could not do that, but that I would sooner fight for it to the last gasp.Tom was right, though. The Indians were coming nearer, disappearing at length behind the rocks at the mouth as they came cautiously on; and I lay down flat upon my face to watch for their appearance above the barrier when they began to climb it, Tom retiring the while farther into the cavern.Two men, not such odds as need give us fear if we were compelled to fight; for after the pains to attain the treasure, it seemed impossible to resign it. My conscience would not teach me any wrong-doing in its appropriation.Ten minutes elapsed, and the Indians did not appear; but it was plain enough that they knew of the treasure’s existence, and watched over its safety. But had they seen us come?I thought not, as at last they came slowly up, looking from side to side, as if in search of intruders; and my heart beat with a heavy excited throb as I thought of the discovery, and the inevitable struggle to follow. Who would be slain I wondered. Should I escape? And then I shuddered as I pictured the bloodshed that might ensue.And all this time nearer came the Indians, until they stood amongst the blocks of stone, peering eagerly in, and shading their eyes to pierce the darkness.For a few minutes it seemed to me that they must see that the soil had been disturbed, or else make out my crouching form; but it soon became evident that they saw nothing—that the cavern presented no unusual aspect. As far, too, as I could make out, there was an evident unwillingness to enter, as if the place possessed some sanctity or dread which kept them from passing its portals.They seemed to be content with watching and listening; but would they keep to that?I thought not; for suddenly my breath came thickly, as I saw one of the men make a sign or two to his companion, and then begin cautiously to descend into the cavern; when, nerving myself for the struggle, I stretched out my hand for my knife and pistols, determined to fight to the death for that which I had won.Cautiously, and in a peculiarly shrinking fashion, the Indian climbed down, while his companion leaned anxiously forward. Then followed moments of suspense that seemed hours, as the man who now stood beneath the arch stretched forth both hands, as if invoking some power, uttered a few words, and then stopped short, for his companion gave a loud peculiar cry, and I saw that he was anxiously gazing down the ravine, when the first Indian hurriedly joined him, and, together, they glided silently away.“That was a close shave, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom, creeping softly forward, gun in hand. “That poor chap didn’t know what a risk he run of being dead and buried. I had him covered with my gun the whole time; and if he’d made at you with his knife, down he must have gone.”“I want the gold, Tom,” I said hoarsely, “but no bloodshed.”“More don’t I, Mas’r Harry,” he replied; “so all they’ve got to do is to leave us alone, and alone we’ll leave them. Now, what’s to be done next?”That was plain enough, and needed no answering. The treasure had to be carefully packed; and together we worked hard, fitting the plates, bars, and tile-shaped pieces together in the bags, so that they should occupy as little space as possible, binding together and covering the two great discs, and then packing the vases and cups, the most awkward part of our discovery; but at last we had all in the ample supply of coffee-bags Tom had brought, and bound round and round with the cotton ropes which we unravelled for the purpose.I breathed more freely as one by one we carried our heavy, awkward-looking packages into the part of the cave where the mules were, and then laid them behind a rock in the dark vault, ready for the night’s journey.“And now,” said Tom, “we’d better take it in turns to have a good sleep, the other keeping watch—for we shall be up all night again.”I turned round to Tom, to stare with astonishment at the man who could talk so coolly about sleep with such a treasure beneath his charge. As for me, my veins throbbed with the fever that coursed through them, and I could not have closed my eyes for an instant till I had my treasure in safety.“Will you take first turn, Mas’r Harry?” said Tom, yawning.“No,” I said peevishly; “you can sleep if you wish to.”“Well, Mas’r Harry, I do wish to,” said Tom; “and that ain’t nowise wonderful, when I was hard at work all lars night.”Tom made no more ado, but stretched himself out in the sandiest spot he could find; and the next minute there could not be a doubt as to the state he was in, for he snored loudly.Judging from appearances, when I once more walked, gun in hand, towards the mouth of the cave, it was about four o’clock, so that there were at least five or six hours to pass before we could attempt our homeward journey.I did not dare to go far towards the mouth, lest there should be watchers there; but picking out the best spot for observation, I stood and gazed eagerly around, scanning every crag, tree, and bush within range, in the search I made for enemies.If I could only get the treasure safely to the hacienda, we could melt it down there, and turn it into ingots handy for packing; when, with the offer of ample for the purchase of a good farm, I could, perhaps, persuade my uncle to return to England, or, if he preferred, he might stay here.Then I thought again whether it would be wisdom to attempt to carry off the treasure by night, we two alone to guard it. I stood, hesitating, thinking of how easy it it would be for the Indians to take us at a disadvantage; of what an insecure place the plantation would be should they discover that the treasure was gone; and at last I made up my mind as to my course, and walked sharply back to where Tom was snoring.Then, stooping down, I unfastened the package which contained the little bars, took out fifty, and secured the package again; when I shook and roused up Tom.

Light—more light, but still not enough to tell of what our treasure was composed. If we had been at the mouth of the cave it would have been, possible, but where we were the darkness was still thick darkness.

Twice I had impatiently gazed at the metal I had been fingering with all a miser’s avidity, when my attention was taken by an object upon a rock close by where we had worked during the night—a toil that I had been ready to declare a dream, time after time, but for the solid reality beneath my hands.

Tom caught sight of the object at the same moment as myself; and together, moved by the same impulse, we raced down, secured it, and then ran panting back with a gloriously-worked but batteredgoldencup, that we had placed upon the rock above us, and which had thus escaped our search.

The next minute we were gazing tremblingly back to see whether we had been observed, for to lose now the wondrous treasure in our grasp seemed unbearable.

But no—all was still; and, for my part, I could do nothing but pant with excitement as the truth dawned more upon me with the coming day, that I was by this one stroke immensely rich. The treasure was gold—rich, ruddy gold, all save one of the great round shields, and that was of massive silver, black almost as ink with tarnish; while its fellow-shield—a sun, as I now saw, as I afterwards made out the other to be a representation of the moon—was of the richer metal.

I was right, then—Garcia could be set at defiance, my uncle freed. But it was all too good to be true; and that little If thrust itself into my thoughts—that little If that has so much to do with our lives.

IfI could get the gold safely away!

My brow knit as I thought of this, and my hand closed involuntarily upon the gun; but directly after I felt that we must bestir ourselves to pack our treasure safely.

“Let us have something by way of breakfast, Tom,” I said hastily, after throwing my coat over the part of the treasure visible.

We ate as people eat whose thoughts are upon other things, till we were roused by a whinnying from the interior of the cave, when Tom hastily carried some maize to the mules so as to ensure their silence in case of the Indians again approaching the place.

As far as I could make out from the obscurity where I was there was not a trace of the sand having been disturbed—the water had removed it all; but I trembled as I thought of the consequences of some Indian eye having seen the golden vessel, for I knew that we should never have been allowed to return alive.

My plans now were to spend a portion of the day in carefully packing our treasure as compactly as possible, and then, when night had well fallen, loading the mules and making the best of our way to the hacienda—easy practicable plans apparently; but Fate declared that I had not yet earned the wealth.

I said that Tom had gone to see about the mules, and for a few minutes I was hesitating about the nearest bag to me—one which, from the feel, contained a mixture of bars, plates, and cups, that I knew might be packed in a quarter the space.

I looked to the mouth of the cave; all was sunshine there; but it was dark where I stood, and feeling that if the task of packing was to be done, the sooner it was set about the better, I seized the bag, drew out a large and massive vessel, two or three plates that must have formed a part of the covering of some barbaric altar, and was about to draw forth more, when I heard a faint noise, and, turning, Tom sprang upon me with a fierce look in his countenance, bore me down amongst the treasure, and laid his hand upon my mouth. His whole weight was upon me, and he had me in such a position that all struggling seemed vain; but with the thought strong upon me that the temptation of the gold had been too much for him, and that as some victim had evidently been sacrificed at its burial I was to fall at its disinterring, I bowed myself up, and the next moment should have endeavoured to throw him off, had not his lips been applied to my ear and a few words been whispered which sent the blood flowing, frightened, back to my heart, as the full extent of their meaning came home.

“Mas’r Harry, don’t move: you’re watched!”

It was no time for speaking, and I was in such a position that I could not see, while for quite a quarter of an hour we lay there motionless, when, gliding aside, Tom made room for me to rise, pointing the while towards the mouth of the cave, through which I could see, some distance down the ravine, a couple of Indians curiously peering about, and more than once stooping cautiously over the little stream which there ran, half-hidden by rocks and undergrowth.

“They’re looking to see if the water’s muddy, Mas’r Harry,” whispered Tom. And then, directly after, “Creep back a little more behind the rock here; they’re coming this way again.”

What! step back and leave the treasure? No, I felt that I could not do that, but that I would sooner fight for it to the last gasp.

Tom was right, though. The Indians were coming nearer, disappearing at length behind the rocks at the mouth as they came cautiously on; and I lay down flat upon my face to watch for their appearance above the barrier when they began to climb it, Tom retiring the while farther into the cavern.

Two men, not such odds as need give us fear if we were compelled to fight; for after the pains to attain the treasure, it seemed impossible to resign it. My conscience would not teach me any wrong-doing in its appropriation.

Ten minutes elapsed, and the Indians did not appear; but it was plain enough that they knew of the treasure’s existence, and watched over its safety. But had they seen us come?

I thought not, as at last they came slowly up, looking from side to side, as if in search of intruders; and my heart beat with a heavy excited throb as I thought of the discovery, and the inevitable struggle to follow. Who would be slain I wondered. Should I escape? And then I shuddered as I pictured the bloodshed that might ensue.

And all this time nearer came the Indians, until they stood amongst the blocks of stone, peering eagerly in, and shading their eyes to pierce the darkness.

For a few minutes it seemed to me that they must see that the soil had been disturbed, or else make out my crouching form; but it soon became evident that they saw nothing—that the cavern presented no unusual aspect. As far, too, as I could make out, there was an evident unwillingness to enter, as if the place possessed some sanctity or dread which kept them from passing its portals.

They seemed to be content with watching and listening; but would they keep to that?

I thought not; for suddenly my breath came thickly, as I saw one of the men make a sign or two to his companion, and then begin cautiously to descend into the cavern; when, nerving myself for the struggle, I stretched out my hand for my knife and pistols, determined to fight to the death for that which I had won.

Cautiously, and in a peculiarly shrinking fashion, the Indian climbed down, while his companion leaned anxiously forward. Then followed moments of suspense that seemed hours, as the man who now stood beneath the arch stretched forth both hands, as if invoking some power, uttered a few words, and then stopped short, for his companion gave a loud peculiar cry, and I saw that he was anxiously gazing down the ravine, when the first Indian hurriedly joined him, and, together, they glided silently away.

“That was a close shave, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom, creeping softly forward, gun in hand. “That poor chap didn’t know what a risk he run of being dead and buried. I had him covered with my gun the whole time; and if he’d made at you with his knife, down he must have gone.”

“I want the gold, Tom,” I said hoarsely, “but no bloodshed.”

“More don’t I, Mas’r Harry,” he replied; “so all they’ve got to do is to leave us alone, and alone we’ll leave them. Now, what’s to be done next?”

That was plain enough, and needed no answering. The treasure had to be carefully packed; and together we worked hard, fitting the plates, bars, and tile-shaped pieces together in the bags, so that they should occupy as little space as possible, binding together and covering the two great discs, and then packing the vases and cups, the most awkward part of our discovery; but at last we had all in the ample supply of coffee-bags Tom had brought, and bound round and round with the cotton ropes which we unravelled for the purpose.

I breathed more freely as one by one we carried our heavy, awkward-looking packages into the part of the cave where the mules were, and then laid them behind a rock in the dark vault, ready for the night’s journey.

“And now,” said Tom, “we’d better take it in turns to have a good sleep, the other keeping watch—for we shall be up all night again.”

I turned round to Tom, to stare with astonishment at the man who could talk so coolly about sleep with such a treasure beneath his charge. As for me, my veins throbbed with the fever that coursed through them, and I could not have closed my eyes for an instant till I had my treasure in safety.

“Will you take first turn, Mas’r Harry?” said Tom, yawning.

“No,” I said peevishly; “you can sleep if you wish to.”

“Well, Mas’r Harry, I do wish to,” said Tom; “and that ain’t nowise wonderful, when I was hard at work all lars night.”

Tom made no more ado, but stretched himself out in the sandiest spot he could find; and the next minute there could not be a doubt as to the state he was in, for he snored loudly.

Judging from appearances, when I once more walked, gun in hand, towards the mouth of the cave, it was about four o’clock, so that there were at least five or six hours to pass before we could attempt our homeward journey.

I did not dare to go far towards the mouth, lest there should be watchers there; but picking out the best spot for observation, I stood and gazed eagerly around, scanning every crag, tree, and bush within range, in the search I made for enemies.

If I could only get the treasure safely to the hacienda, we could melt it down there, and turn it into ingots handy for packing; when, with the offer of ample for the purchase of a good farm, I could, perhaps, persuade my uncle to return to England, or, if he preferred, he might stay here.

Then I thought again whether it would be wisdom to attempt to carry off the treasure by night, we two alone to guard it. I stood, hesitating, thinking of how easy it it would be for the Indians to take us at a disadvantage; of what an insecure place the plantation would be should they discover that the treasure was gone; and at last I made up my mind as to my course, and walked sharply back to where Tom was snoring.

Then, stooping down, I unfastened the package which contained the little bars, took out fifty, and secured the package again; when I shook and roused up Tom.

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