To begin with, it roofed over a
great depression some thirty feet or more in diameter, for the top of
the mount was hollowed out like one of those wooden cups in which
jugglers catch balls. But notwithstanding all the encaustic tiles in
the world, damp will gather in a hollow like this, and the damp alone
was an objection. The real fact was, however, that the spot had an
evil reputation, and even those who were sufficiently well educated to
know the folly of this sort of thing would not willingly have gone
there for purposes of enjoyment. So it had suffered the general fate
of disused places, having fallen more or less out of repair and become
a receptacle for garden tools, broken cucumber frames and lumber of
various sorts.
Harold pushed the door open and entered, shutting it behind him. It
was, if anything, more disagreeable in the empty silence of the wide
place than it had been outside, for the space roofed over was
considerable, and the question at once arose in his mind, what was he
to do now that he had got there? If the treasure was there at all,
probably it was deep down in the bowels of the great mound. Well, as
he was on the spot, he thought that he might as well try to dig,
though probably nothing would come of it. In the corner were a pickaxe
and some spades and shovels.
Pages:
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446