There was nothing in
it, of course, but somehow the sight impressed him very much. It
seemed months since he awoke to find the lamp gone out. How much may
happen between the lighting of a candle and its burning away! Smiling
at this trite reflection, he blew that light out, and, taking another,
went to his room. Here he found a stout hand-bag, with which he made
haste to return to the Mount.
"Are you all right, George?" he shouted down the hole.
"Well, Colonel, yes, but not sorry to see you back. It's lonesome like
down here with these deaders."
"Very well. Look out! There's a bag. Put as much gold in it as you can
lift comfortably, and then make it fast to the rope."
Some three minutes passed, and then George announced that the bagful
of gold was ready. Harold hauled away, and with a considerable effort
brought it to the surface. Then, lifting the bag on his shoulder he
staggered with it to the house. In his room stood a massive sea-going
chest, the companion of his many wanderings. It was about half full of
uniforms and old clothes, which he bundled unceremoniously on to the
floor. This done, he shot the bagful of shining gold, as bright and
uncorrupted now as when it was packed away two and a half centuries
ago, into the chest, and returned for another load.
Pages:
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470