hand. It touched
something that felt more like a damp bag of marbles than anything else
that Cyril had ever touched.

'I believe it IS a buried treasure,' he cried.

And it was; for even as Anthea cried, 'Oh, hurry up, Squirrel--fetch it
out!' Cyril pulled out a rotting canvas bag--about as big as the paper
ones the greengrocer gives you with Barcelona nuts in for sixpence.

'There's more of it, a lot more,' he said.

As he pulled the rotten bag gave way, and the gold coins ran and span
and jumped and bumped and chinked and clinked on the floor of the dark
passage.

I wonder what you would say if you suddenly came upon a buried treasure?
What Cyril said was, 'Oh, bother--I've burnt my fingers!' and as he
spoke he dropped the match. 'AND IT WAS THE LAST!' he added.

There was a moment of desperate silence. Then Jane began to cry.

'Don't,' said Anthea, 'don't, Pussy--you'll exhaust the air if you cry.
We can get out all right.'

'Yes,' said Jane, through her sobs, 'and find the Phoenix has come back
and gone away again--because it thought we'd gone home some other way,
and--Oh, I WISH we hadn't come.'

Every one stood quite still--only Anthea cuddled Jane up to her and
tried to wipe her eyes in the dark.

'D-DON'T,' said Jane; 'that's my EAR--I'm not crying with my ears.'

'Come, let's get on out,' said Robert; but that was not so easy, for no
one could remember exactly which way they had come. It is very difficult
to remember things in the dark, unless you have matches with you, and
then of course it is quite different, even if you don't strike one.

Every one had come to agree with Jane's constant wish--and despair was
making the darkness blacker than ever, when quite suddenly the floor
seemed to tip up--and a strong sensation of being in a whirling lift
came upon every one. All eyes were closed--one's eyes always are in the
dark, don't you think? When the whirling feeling stopped, Cyril said
'Earthquakes!' and they all opened their eyes.

They were in their own dingy breakfast-room at home, and oh, how light
and bright and safe and pleasant and altogether delightful it seemed
after that dark underground tunnel! The carpet lay on the floor, looking
as calm as though it had never been for an excursion in its life. On
the mantelpiece stood the Phoenix, waiting with an air of modest yet
sterling worth for the thanks of the children.

'But how DID you do it?' they asked, when every one had thanked the
Pho