SINCE the large chamber was in utter darkness, Saxe decided on recourse to a device which had served him well in similar situations of his boyhood among the mountains. As soon as Margaret moved and drew a little away from him, he spoke.
“We must step back to the passage-way,” he said. “From it, I can take our bearings, so that we can cross the place without floundering about haphazard in the dark.”
“Yes,” the girl answered. Her voice came very low, quavering a little.
Two paces brought them again to the entrance of the corridor. There, with a hand touching either side, Saxe made sure of the exact direction in which he faced, and from this he judged his course, for he remembered the relative positions of the passage by which they had come into the big room and of the shadows he had seen on the opposite wall. He had in mind as well his estimate of the diameter of the chamber, and so, when he[269] had made sure of his direction he set off boldly, after again taking Margaret by the hand. He lengthened his stride a trifle, to make it the measure of a pace. When he had counted fifteen steps, he reduced his speed, and moved with caution, groping before him. A moment later, his hands encountered the wall. He was confident that he had held his course fairly straight in crossing the chamber, and was certain, in consequence, that the opening into the passage must lie a little to his left. He therefore drew Margaret in this direction. An instant later, to his joy, his left hand found emptiness. Without a word, the two hurried forward, and presently they saw before them a dim glow that was the first hint of outer light. Saxe fell behind the girl as the passage narrowed. Margaret quickened her steps to a run, and he held fast at her heels. In the same second with her, he issued from the cavern, and sent forth a huge shout, which was a little for escape from the cave, but chiefly for a primitive, masterful delight in the woman beside him. Margaret smiled sympathy with his mood—and her smile, it may be, was divided in its[270] sources, even as was the lover’s cry of triumph.
The girl’s face was mantled with blushes. But she spoke bravely, with a dainty air of inconsequence.
“Why, how late it is!” She pointed toward the west. “See, the sun has set already, we were in there for ages.”
“Yes,” Saxe agreed. “And it’s like rebirth to come back—rebirth into a new, glorious life.” With an effort, he checked himself, for he would not embarrass her now, though passion bubbled to his lips. “We must paddle over to where the rest are, and let them know about the cave at once.”
The news brought by the two created a lively excitement among the others, along with a considerable feeling of relief, for the continued absence of Margaret and Saxe had been inexplicable, until Billy Walker quoted, with ostentatious carelessness:
Love’s a virtue for heroes—as white as the snow on high hills,
And immortal as every great soul is that struggles, endures and fulfills.
[271]At this utterance from the seer, who was by no means prone to sentimental rhapsodizing, Roy appeared at first puzzled, then enlightened, and he smiled—nor speculated more as to the whereabouts of his missing friend, while David grinned appreciatively, and accepted the innuendo as a sufficient explanation of Saxe’s absence even in this crisis of affairs.
For the rest, the three, with some assistance from Jake, had passed a busy afternoon, without accomplishing anything beyond a disheartening certainty that the gold had been very effectually concealed. Much of the cove was shallow, and Billy Walker had suited his convenience by pursuing his investigations of these portions from the launch which Jake guided to and fro as required. The clearness of the water made it possible to see the bottom distinctly except at the greatest depths, and in this comfortable fashion Billy conducted his search, smoking the inevitable black cigar. In the deeper parts, Roy, clad in a bathing-suit, made such examination of the bottom as he might by diving. David either assisted Billy in the[272] scrutiny from the launch, or hunted over the islands near the shore. At no time did it occur to them to extend their researches so far as the island on which Saxe and Margaret had landed. They had just come to the conclusion that they must give over work for the day, and were again beginning to feel concern in regard to the continued absence of the heir himself, when they were startled by a hail in the voice of the missing man. They stared out over the lake, and perceived the canoe darting toward them, with Margaret plying a skilled paddle from the bow. Jake, who had just bent to the fly-wheel of the engine to crank up, dropped again to the bench; the others stood up and shouted. They had no least suspicion that the truants could be bringing news of the treasure. When finally the light craft ranged alongside the launch, and the story of the cavern was told, there were wonder and satisfaction. Roy was the first to make a suggestion as to the course to be pursued.
“The rest of you go on to the cottage,” he directed. “I’ll stay here on guard, in case our friend, the engineer, should have a mind to[273] drop in on a visit. After dinner, let Jake bring me a snack to eat, and I’ll keep watch through the night. You—” he turned toward Margaret and Saxe—“can take me to the island, and show me the entrance to the cave, and then leave me.”
There were protestations from the others, offers to share the watch with him; but Roy resisted all importunities.
“I’d like to meet Masters again,” he declared, in his gentlest voice. “I don’t want any help.” They recognized the emphasis of finality, and forebore further argument.
But, when after dinner at the cottage Jake was about setting forth in the launch with supplies for Roy, which in addition to food included a pair of blankets and a lantern, David appeared at the boat-house, and accosted the old man just as the propeller began to revolve:
“Hold your hosses, Jake!” he called; and the boatman obediently threw out the clutch, and steered in a slowing circle to the dock. As he came alongside, David produced—with a deftness of movement that showed some degree of familiarity with gun-play—a[274] very businesslike appearing automatic, which lay snugly in his palm. With his other hand, he brought forth a box of cartridges. These and the weapon, he extended toward Jake.
“For Roy,” he explained. Jake nodded, and stowed the armament in a locker.
The recipient of this equipment displayed small gratitude for his friend’s thoughtfulness. On the contrary, he sniffed when Jake, after beaching the launch on the strip of sand where Roy awaited his coming, presented the automatic and cartridges as first fruits.
“I sha’n’t need a gun,” Roy declared superciliously; and his pugnacious jaw was thrust forward yet once again. And, afterward, when Jake had accompanied him to the cavern with the blankets and the lighted lantern, the boatman’s well-meant offer to remain for the night was rejected almost with indignation. “You don’t understand, Jake,” Roy said, venomously. “I personally have an account to settle with that infernal engineer.”
The old man grinned a cheerful appreciation[275] of the situation.
“Of course,” he remarked, in a matter-of-fact tone, “you got quite some hefty grudge agin ’im for the way he ducked your sweetheart.”
At this candid statement, Roy gaped in amazement.
“Why, how did you know she—” he began. Then, he halted in confusion. For the first time in many years, he felt himself incapable of speech.
Jake chuckled in high good nature, and deemed that explanation enough.
“Well, lick ’im good, if ye ketch ’im,” he exhorted; and straightway set out on his return to the cottage, where he and David were to serve as guards throughout the night.
Thus left to his own devices, Roy proceeded to make himself as comfortable as the circumstances of his situation would permit. He was sure that the enemy would not appear on the scene for some time yet, if at all, and in the interval before that possible coming he proposed to make himself at ease. To this end, he placed the lantern in the[276] center of the chamber on the floor, and folded the blankets into a comfortable rug, on which he seated himself cross-legged, according to the fashion he had learned to like in the Far East. He was at pains to have the luncheon-basket conveniently placed before him, and now began an investigation of its contents with a curiosity sharpened by keen appetite. He smiled contentedly as he brought out a cold sliced fowl, fresh salad, a vacuum-bottle of hot coffee—the dozen other things that would have made a formidable array, had it not been for the strength of hunger with which he happily confronted them. As he renewed energy with this repast, Roy smiled at the contrast of its luxuriousness, as compared with many another that had been his lot in the wild places. He was alone in the wilderness, as often of old, but there the similarity ceased, for in those other places, there had been no dainties, such as the ones before him, no napkins of damask, or utensils of silver. And yet——
Roy broke off his musings, as he finished his third cigarette, and set himself to make[277] arrangements for the night. He removed his blankets to a point against the wall of the cavern on the side opposite the entrance, where a tiny recess offered partial concealment. In this nook, he spread out the blankets, extinguished the lantern, stretched himself in a comfortable posture, and thus entered on the long vigil. He did not hesitate to doze, as he was sure that he retained his old habit of becoming alert at the faintest sound.
It was hours afterward when he became broad-awake in an instant. For a time, he lay motionless, all his senses quickened. The blackness of the chamber seemed impenetrable, yet his eyes stared steadfastly into the dark,............