th shed by the crackling wood--to take a long, long rest, and wake--
where?

The question was silently asked by each of his inner self again and
again, but never answered, for no answer seemed to be needed. The
weary, weary day two years long was at an end. They had worked well and
failed; they could do no more; all they wanted was rest and
forgetfulness--peace, the true gold after all.

Sleep was long coming to Dallas, weary though he was; and he lay there
with his head slightly raised, gazing at the weird scene, distorted and
full of strange shadows, as the fire rose and fell.

There lay, big and heavy, the sturdy friend and companion in so many
adventures, just as he had lain down; and close by, poor Abel, the most
unfortunate of the party, so near that he could rest his hand upon the
rough coat of the dog.

"Poor Bel!" mused Dallas; "how unfortunate he has been!"

But the next minute he was thinking of how trivial the troubles of the
past seemed to be in comparison with this--the greatest trouble of them
all. For though they had all lain down to sleep so calmly, and with the
simple friendly good-night, they had all felt that it was for the last
time, and that their weary labours were at an end.

"All a mistake--a vain empty dream of a golden fortune," Dallas said to
himself. "The idea was brave and strong, but it was the romance of a
boy. Fortunes are not to be made by one stroke, but by patient, hard
work, long thought as to how that work shall bring forth fruit, and then
by constant application. Ah, well, we are not the first to make such
mistakes--not the first to turn our backs upon the simple substance to
grasp at the great shadow."

He lay gazing sadly at the crackling fire, whose flames danced, and
whose sparks eddied into spirals and flew upwards on the heated air; and
then with eyes half-closed he watched the glowing embers as the great
pieces of wood became incandescent. He was still gazing into the fire
with a dull feeling of pitying contempt for himself, seeing imaginary
caverns and ravines of burnished gold, when with a sigh upon his lip as
he thought of the simple-hearted, loving mother watching and waiting at
home for those who would never cross the threshold again, sleep came to
press heavily upon the half-closed eyelids, and all was blank.

CHAPTER FORTY.

THE SOLID REALITY.

A strange feeling of stiffness and cold so painful that for some moments
Dallas could not move, but la