pinning down
the body that lay outstretched beyond.

I recognized the voice now. It was that of Philippe Lacroix.

"Ah, _mon Dieu_! Help me! Help me!"

He continued to repeat the words in every conceivable tone, and his
suffering was pitiable. I forgot my own troubles as I tried to aid
him. All my efforts were vain. There were tons of rock above him, and
under the inch or two of space where the rock rested above the ground I
felt the edge of a burlap bag.

He had been pinned beneath the bags of earth and gold which he had
prized so dearly; the golden rocks were grinding out his life. He was
dying--and he could not take his treasures to that place to which he
must go.

I felt one hand come through the tiny opening in the wall and grasp at
me.

"Who is it?" he mumbled. "Is that you, Hewlett? For God's sake, kill
me!"

I crouched beside him, but I did not know what to say or do. I could
only wait there, that he might not die alone.

"Give me a knife!" he mumbled again, clutching at me. "A knife,
Hewlett! Don't leave me to die like this! Bring Pere Antoine and my
mother. I want to tell her--to tell her----"

He muttered in his delirium until his voice died away. I thought that
he would never speak again. But presently he seemed to revive again to
the consciousness of his surroundings.

"Are you with me, Hewlett?" he whispered.

I placed my hand in his, and he clutched at it with feverish force.

"You will have the gold, Hewlett," he muttered, apparently ignorant
that I, too, was a prisoner and in hardly better plight. "You are the
last of the four. I tried to kill you, Hewlett."

I said nothing, and he repeated querulously, between his gasps: "I
tried to kill you, Hewlett. Are you going to leave me to die alone in
the dark now?"

"No," I answered. "It doesn't matter, Lacroix." And, really, it did
not matter.

"I wanted to kill you," his voice rambled on. "Leroux is dead. I
watched him die. I thought if--you died, too, no one but I would know
the secret of the gold. I tried to murder you. I blew up the tunnel!"

He paused a while, and again I thought he was dying, but once more he
took up the confession.

"There was nearly a quarter of a ton of blasting powder and dynamite in
the cave. You didn't know. You went about so blindly, Hewlett. I
watched you when I talked with you that night here. How long ago it
must have been! When was that?"

I did not tell him it was yeste