like one of
inspiration. Suppose the treasure was in the well itself? What more
likely? Would not that be the safest place of all? For the precious
metals would not hurt through contact with the water; and had he
not heard that the waters of this well possessed peculiar
properties for preserving anything thrown into them?

Cuthbert's heart beat so fast that he almost feared Robin would
hear his deep breathing; but the man was looking down into the
well, laughing to himself in the peculiarly malevolent fashion that
Cuthbert had heard before. He never moved from the side of the well
for the long hour he remained; and Cuthbert, waiting in feverish
impatience till he should be gone, felt as though he had never
known an hour so long.

But it ended at last. The tall figure reared itself upright, and he
heard the voice distinctly now.

"I must be going--I must be going. Miriam will be asking questions.
That hag is the plague of my life. All safe--all safe. And now I
will depart."

The tall figure put on its stooping gait, which appeared to be
second nature, and went slouching away through the underwood along
the narrow track. Cuthbert waited till there had been a long spell
of perfect silence, and then he glided with cat-like caution to the
ground.

"I may not be able to see anything by this light, not even the
glint of gold beneath the clear waters. But he seemed to see. He
looked down and muttered, 'Safe--safe!' Beshrew me but I trow I
have the secret now! The pixies' well--the hidden secret it guards
so well. All is true! all is true! Why did I not think of it
before?"

Creeping to the side of the well, Cuthbert peered over the edge and
gazed fixedly into the dark water. What was it he saw? Was that
moonlight shining and glinting there; or was it--could it be--Hold,
what is this?

With a stifled cry Cuthbert strove to spring to his feet; but the
attempt was vain. He was encircled in the bear-like grip of a pair
of arms that were strong as bands of iron around him. He felt as
though all the breath were being pressed out of him, and in his ear
there rang a hideous laugh, the sound of which he knew but too
well.

"Fool!" cried a hoarse voice, hissing the words in his ears--"fool
of a mad boy to trust a treacherous gipsy tale! So thou thoughtest
to outwit Long Robin! Thou thoughtest to win back the lost treasure
to the house of Trevlyn! Mad boy--fool of a hardy knave! But yet
thou shalt have thy wish--thou shalt