the grizzled-headed Sam as some swart goblin,
obedient to his commands.

At length the spade of the fisherman struck upon something that sounded
hollow. The sound vibrated to Wolfert's heart. He struck his spade
again.

"'Tis a chest," said Sam.

"Full of gold, I'll warrant it!" cried Wolfert, clasping his hands with
rapture.

Scarcely had he uttered the words when a sound from overhead caught his
ear. He cast up his eyes, and lo! by the expiring light of the fire he
beheld, just over the disk of the rock, what appeared to be the grim
visage of the drowned buccaneer, grinning hideously down upon him.

Wolfert gave a loud cry and let fall the lanthorn. His panic
communicated itself to his companions. The negro leaped out of the
hole, the doctor dropped his book and basket and began to pray in
German. All was horror and confusion. The fire was scattered about, the
lanthorn extinguished. In their hurry-skurry they ran against and
confounded one another. They fancied a legion of hobgoblins let loose
upon them, and that they saw by the fitful gleams of the scattered
embers, strange figures in red caps gibbering and ramping around them.
The doctor ran one way, Mud Sam another, and Wolfert made for the water
side. As he plunged struggling onwards through bush and brake, he heard
the tread of some one in pursuit.

He scrambled frantically forward. The footsteps gained upon him. He
felt himself grasped by his cloak, when suddenly his pursuer was
attacked in turn: a fierce fight and struggle ensued--a pistol was
discharged that lit up rock and bush for a period, and showed two
figures grappling together--all was then darker than ever. The contest
continued--the combatants clenched each other, and panted and groaned,
and rolled among the rocks. There was snarling and growling as of a
cur, mingled with curses in which Wolfert fancied he could recognize
the voice of the buccaneer. He would fain have fled, but he was on the
brink of a precipice and could go no farther.

Again the parties were on their feet; again there was a tugging and
struggling, as if strength alone could decide the combat, until one was
precipitated from the brow of the cliff and sent headlong into the deep
stream that whirled below. Wolfert heard the plunge, and a kind of
strangling bubbling murmur, but the darkness of the night hid every
thing from view, and the swiftness of the current swept every thing
instantly out of hearing. One of the combatants