ojecting crag, at the base of which grew a thick skirting of
underwood; but Gregory pursued cautiously in the same direction. He had
heard strange stories of demons guarding heaps of treasure; and it was
currently reported that in former times a mine had been secretly worked
in these parts for fear of discovery; all mines yielding gold and
silver, so as to leave a profit from the working, being considered as
"mines royal," and regarded as the property of the king.[57] Gregory's
prevailing sin was avarice; and oftentimes this vice put on the
appearance of courage, by rendering him daring for its gratification,
though at heart a coward. He thought that if the treasure were once
within his grasp neither man nor demon should regain it.

For a short time past this part of the forest had been commonly reported
as the haunt of a spectre, in the likeness of a man clad in grey
apparel, who by some was supposed to be an impalpable exhalation from a
concealed mine existing in the neighbourhood. It is well known that
these places are generally guarded by some covetous demon, who, though
unable to apply the treasures to their proper use, yet strives to hinder
any one else from gaining possession.

Gregory had once encountered it unexpectedly, face to face, but he did
not then follow--surprise and timidity preventing him. He, however,
resolved that, should another opportunity occur, he would track the
spectre to its haunt, and by that means find out the opening and
situation of the mine.

He now crept slowly towards the crag, behind which the figure had
retired. Looking cautiously round the point, he again saw the dim
spectral form only a few yards distant. Suddenly he heard a low whistle,
and the next moment the mysterious figure had disappeared--not a vestige
could be traced. He thrust his huge head between the boughs for a more
uninterrupted survey, but nothing was seen, save the bare escarpment of
the rock, and the low bushes, behind which the phantom had, a moment
before, been visible. Though somewhat daunted, he crept closer to the
spot, but darkness was fast closing around him, and the search was
fruitless.

"Humph!" said the disappointed treasure-hunter audibly; "daylight and a
stout pole may probe the mystery to the bottom. I'll mark this spot."

"Mark this spot," said another voice at some distance, repeating his
words like an echo. The rock was certainly within "striking distance,"
and it might have been this accident