lose a veil between us that
his features were obscured; and the sound of their flight was like the
turning of a mighty wheel.

"Here," I said, "is the spot. I cannot dig, for I have not learned to
use such instruments; but, for your own sake, I beseech you to be swift
in what you do."

He had sunk once more upon the ground, panting like a fish; and I saw
rising in his face the same dusky flush that had mantled on my father's.
"I feel ill," he gasped, "horribly ill; the swamp turns around me; the
drone of these carrion flies confounds me. Have you not wine?"

I gave him a glass, and he drank greedily. "It is for you to think,"
said I, "if you should further persevere. The swamp has an ill name."
And at the word I ominously nodded.

"Give me the pick," said he. "Where are the jewels buried?"

I told him vaguely; and in the sweltering heat and closeness, and dim
twilight of the jungle, he began to wield the pickaxe, swinging it
overhead with the vigour of a healthy man. At first, there broke forth
upon him a strong sweat, that made his face to shine, and in which the
greedy insects settled thickly.

"To sweat in such a place," said I. "O master, is this wise? Fever is
drunk in through open pores."

"What do you mean?" he screamed, pausing with the pick buried in the
soil. "Do you seek to drive me mad? Do you think I do not understand the
danger that I run?"

"That is all I want," said I: "I only wish you to be swift." And then,
my mind flitting to my father's deathbed, I began to murmur, scarce
above my breath, the same vain repetition of words, "Hurry, hurry,
hurry."

Presently, to my surprise, the treasure-seeker took them up; and while
he still wielded the pick, but now with staggering and uncertain blows,
repeated to himself, as it were the burthen of a song, "Hurry, hurry,
hurry"; and then again, "There is no time to lose; the marsh has an ill
name, ill name"; and then back to "Hurry, hurry, hurry," with a dreadful
mechanical, hurried, and yet wearied utterance, as a sick man rolls upon
his pillow. The sweat had disappeared; he was now dry, but, all that I
could see of him, of the same dull brick-red. Presently his pick
unearthed the bag of jewels; but he did not observe it, and continued
hewing at the soil.

"Master," said I, "there is the treasure."

He seemed to waken from a dream. "Where?" he cried; and then, seeing it
before his eyes, "Can this be possible?" he added. "I must be
light-headed. Girl,