he stood and reflected. What had happened was a great
misfortune,--possibly it was a great danger,--but it was no use standing
there thinking about it. His reason could not help him; it had done for
him all that it could, and it would be foolish to waste time in looking
for the man, for it was plain enough that he had gone away. Of course, he
had taken some gold with him, but that did not matter much. The danger
was that he or others might come back for more, but this could not be
prevented, and it was needless to consider it. The captain had come to
this deserted shore for a purpose, and it was his duty, without loss of
time, to go to work and carry out that purpose. If in any way he should
be interfered with, he would meet that interference as well as he could,
but until it came he would go on with his work. Having come to this
conclusion, he got over the wall, lighted his lantern, and proceeded to
the mound.

On his way he passed the tin cup, which he had forgotten to pick up, but
now he merely kicked it out of the way. "If the man comes back," he
thought, "he knows the way. There is no need of concealing anything."

When the captain had reached the top of the mound, he moved the stone lid
so that the aperture was entirely uncovered. Then he looked down upon the
mass of dull yellow bars. He could not perceive any apparent diminution
of their numbers.

"He must have filled his pockets," the captain thought, "and so full that
some of them dropped out. Well, let him go, and if he ventures back here,
we shall have it out between us. In the meantime, I will do what I can."

The captain now took from the pocket of his jacket two small canvas bags,
which he had had made for this purpose, and proceeded to fill one of them
with the gold bars, lifting the bag, every now and then, to try its
weight. When he thought it heavy enough, he tied up the end very firmly,
and then packed the other, as nearly as possible, to the same extent.
Then he got down, and laying one of the bags over each shoulder, he
walked about to see if he could easily bear their weight.

"That is about right," he said to himself. "I will count them when I take
them out." Then, putting them down, he went up for his lantern. He was
about to close the lid of the mound, but he reflected that this would be
of no use. It had been open nobody knew how long, and might as well
remain so. He was coming back as often as he could, and it would be a tax
upon his stren