he fled to Badillo.
Don Nicolas, son of Dona Lucia, was his boatman, and he says that he
remained with your grandfather at that place over night, and that
there they received the report that the Royalists had been terribly
whipped in the battle--the battle of--_Caramba_! I forget--"

"Of Ayacucho," suggested Jose.

"Just so," resumed Rosendo. "_Bien_, there was nothing for the poor
man to do but hasten down the river to Cartagena as fast as possible,
for he knew not what might have befallen his family. He did not dare
go back to Simiti then for the box. And so the gold was left in the
altar."

_"Hombre!"_ exclaimed Jose. "Now I understand what he meant by that
note in his old diary, which we had in my father's house, in Spain! Of
course! Arriving in Cartagena he went at once to the Department of
Mines and tore out all the pages of the register that contained
descriptions of his mineral properties. He intended some day to return
to Guamoco and again locate them. And meantime, he protected himself
by destroying all the registered locations. It was easy for him to do
this, influential as he was in Cartagena. And doubtless at that stormy
time the office of the Department of Mines was deserted. This note,
Rosendo, I have read in his old diary, many times, but never knew to
what it referred."

_"Hombre!"_ ejaculated Rosendo. "_Bueno_, the soldiers sacked Simiti
and slaughtered all the people they could find. Then they set fire to
the town, and left. My parents had fled to Guamoco.

"But now for the old church and the picture of the Virgin that was
lost during the terrible storm when the priest fell dead. We will have
to guess that later, when peace had been restored, the priest of the
old church in prying around the altar discovered the loose bricks and
the box behind them. _Bueno_, the night of the awful storm he had gone
secretly to the church to remove the box. I remember that my father
said the priest had arranged for my father to take him down to Bodega
Central the very next day. You see, he was going to flee with the
gold, the rogue! _Bien_, while he was in the church taking out the
loose bricks, that storm broke--and, from what I remember, it was
terrible! The heavens were ablaze with lightning; the thunder roared
like cannon; and the lake rose right out of its bed! _Caramba!_ The
door of the church crashed open, and the wind whistled in and blew out
the candles on the altar. The wind also tore loose a beautiful