efore we speak, when a star has fallen out
of heaven into our hearts.

CHAPTER XIII

_We Begin to Dig._

Two or three days went by, but as yet there was no news of either
Charlie Webster or Tobias. Nothing further had been heard of the latter
in the settlement, and a careful patrolling of the neighbourhood
revealed no signs of him. Either his sailing away was a bona-fide
performance, or he was lying low in some other part of the
island--which, of course, would not be a difficult thing for him to do,
as most of it was wilderness--and as, also, there were one or two coves
on the deserted northern side where he could easily bide his time.
Between that coast and us, however, lay some ten miles of scrub and
mangrove swamps, and it was manifestly out of the question to patrol
them too. There was nothing to do but watch and wait.

"_Vigile et ora,_" said the "King."

But in spite of that counsel, watching and praying was not much in the
"King's" temperament. Besides, as I could see, he was anxious to begin
operations on John Teach's ruined mansion, and was impatient of the
delay.

"With Golconda and Potosi beneath our very feet," he exclaimed at last,
"to be held up by this scurvy pock-marked ruffian, I swear 'I like it
not.' No news from your duck-shooting friend either. It is a slow-moving
world, and the Bird of Time has either lost his wings, or been captured
as a specimen on behalf of the Smithsonian Institute."

At last there came a message from Charlie Webster, another of his
Caesarian notes: "Sorry delayed a few days longer. Any news?"

That seemed to decide the "King."

"What do you say, Ulysses," he said, "if we begin digging to-morrow?
There are ten of us--with as many guns, four revolvers and plenty of
machetes--not counting Calypso, who is an excellent shot herself."

I agreed that nothing would please me better--so, an early hour of the
following morning found us with the whole garrison--excepting Samson,
whom it had been thought wise to leave at home as a bodyguard for
Calypso--lined up at the old ruined mansion, with picks and shovels and
machetes, ready to commence operations.

The first thing was to get rid of the immense web, which, as I have
already described, the forest had woven with diabolic ingenuity all
around, and in and out the skeleton of the sturdy old masonry. Till
that was done, it was impossible to get any notion of the ground plan of
the several connected buildings. So the