three men passed beyond, carefully closing the door behind them.

Buckingham was close upon them.

They fled rapidly along, Cantemir following his servants and ever
glancing behind with eyes staring with fear.

Buckingham was not to be caught by fear-staring eyes and kept well in
shadow.

The passage was narrow with many windings and appeared to be
interminable.

The men began to run, which was very incautious under the
circumstances, for in a moment they were precipitated into a small
chamber occupied by two stalwart monks. The latter had barely time to
throw themselves upon the defensive ere they were attacked.

Cantemir had the advantage, as the monks were encumbered with their
long robes.

Then ensued a short fight, in which Cantemir's men won the day--he
remaining well in the background.

One of the servants was wounded and lay helpless upon the floor, his
head falling against some object that held him in a semi-upright
posture. Cantemir turned with the torch he had taken from the floor,
and looked about him, stumbling over the prostrate bodies of the monks
as they lay wounded. Noting his injured servant's position, he ran to
him, and seeing the thing upon which his head rested, kicked his body
from the chest, as if the fellow had been his enemy's dog, instead of
his own serving man.

With a cudgel he and his comrade opened the chest, after first finding
it too heavy to carry at speed and for an indefinite distance.

Cantemir's eyes waxed big with greed and delight, as he looked
within. He spread out his long fingers, as if to grasp all the chest
contained.

"These small caskets must be filled with jewels. Anson, fasten the
torch somehow and put these in the bags. Here are some rare laces,
looted from some dead Croesus, I warrant,--put those in too;--those
infernal papers--they can be of no consequence--"

"Then I will take them, my lord," said the servant. Cantemir eyed him
with no fondness and slipped the papers within his own bag.

Buckingham, watching them from his little cove in the rocks, caught a
sound that made him start. It was very distant and indistinct, yet he
was quite certain some one was coming, and without further delay he
cried out and drew his sword upon the man nearest him, which happened
to be Anson.

The fellow used his sword fairly, but no match for his adversary.

Buckingham run him through before the Russian had regained his
presence of mind.

As the unfortunate Anson f