narrow deft, the entrance to which was roughly built up
with stones. This, then, was the King's grave.

The dawn was rapidly lightening. There was no time to lose. He must
enter at once, and there remain throughout the entire day. Only in the
darkness could he enter, only in the darkness could he leave it.

As he climbed up on the embankment of stones, one, loosened by his
tread, dislodged another. Heavens! what a clatter they made, or seemed
to make, in the dead stillness. Then he set his teeth hard, stifling a
groan. The falling stone had struck his ankle, bruising it sharply and
causing intense pain. For a moment he paused. Could he climb any
further? It seemed to have lamed him. Then somehow there came back to
him old Pemberton's words: "There's no luck meddling with such places--
no, none." Well, there seemed something in it, and if his ill-luck
began here what was awaiting him when he should have effected his
purpose? But he had professed himself above such puerile superstitions,
and now was the time to make good his professions. Besides, it was too
late to draw back. If he were not under concealment within a moment or
so, his peril would be of a more real and material order. So, summoning
all his coolness and resolution, exercising the greatest care, he
climbed over the remaining stones and dropped down within the cleft.

And now he forgot the pain of his contused ankle, as, full of interest
he stood within this wonderful tomb. But for a very slight trend the
cleft ran inward straight to a depth of some forty or fifty feet, its
sides, straight and smooth, rising to nearly the same height; and at the
further end, which narrowed somewhat, ere terminating abruptly in the
meeting of the two Titanic boulders which caused it, he could make out
something which looked like a heap, an indefinable heap, of old clothes.

Blachland paused. Here, then, was the object of his exploration. Here,
then, lay the mouldering remains of the dead King, and here lay the
buried gold. Drawing his flask from his pocket, he took a nip to steady
his nerves before beginning his search. Before beginning it, however,
some impulse moved him to glance forth once more upon the outside world.

The sun had not yet risen, but the land lay revealed in the pearly dawn.
There was the rough, long, boulder-strewn ridge, continuing away from
this great natural tumulus which dominated it. Away over the valley,
the bushy outline of t