e future.

"He turned, and began his climb toward the crater's edge. At once
the otters, with a mighty puff in concert, took up their line of
procession, and, plunging into the black lake, began to beat the
water with their tails.

"The miser could hear the sound of splashing water as he struggled
upward through the snow, now melted and yielding. It was a long
hour of harsh toil and much back-sliding before he reached the rim,
and turned to take one more view of this valley of good fortune.

"As he looked, a thick mist began to rise from the lake center,
where the otters were splashing. Under the mist grew a cylinder of
black cloud, utterly hiding the water.

"Terrible are storms in the mountains; but in this looming mass was
a terror more dread than any hurricane of ruin ever bore within its
wild vortexes. Tamanous was in that black cylinder, and as it
strode forward, chasing in the very path of the miser, he
shuddered, for his wealth and his life were in danger.

"However, it might be but a common storm. Sunlight was bright as
ever overhead in heaven, and all the lovely world below lay
dreamily fair, in that afternoon of summer, at the feet of the rich
man, who now was hastening to be its king. He stepped from the
crater edge and began his descent.

"Instantly the storm overtook him. He was thrown down by its first
assault, flung over a rough bank of iciness, and lay at the foot
torn and bleeding, but clinging still to his precious burden. Each
hand still held its five strings of hiaqua. In each hand he bore a
nation's ransom. He staggered to his feet against the blast. Utter
night was around him--night as if daylight had forever perished,
had never come into being from chaos. The roaring of the storm had
also deafened and bewildered him with its wild uproar.

"Present in every crash and thunder of the gale was a growing
undertone, which the miser well knew to be the voice of Tamanous. A
deadly shuddering shook him. Heretofore that potent Unseen had been
his friend and guide; there had been awe, but no terror, in his
words. Now the voice of Tamanous was inarticulate, but the miser
could divine in that sound an unspeakable threat of wrath and
vengeance. Floating upon this undertone were sharper tamanous
voices, shouting and scream