now."

"Didn't you tell him?"

"Of course not. Didn't you say that your words were in confidence?"

"Yes," said Briscoe, with a grunt, "but I didn't mean to include him.
He wouldn't try to argue the case again, would he, and want to have me
set ashore here?"

"Certainly not. He would say that you had a perfect right to indulge in
such dreams. He would not interfere."

"Not if I was to begin prospecting?"

"Not unless you began to do anything to hinder our trip. But I say,
look here: what's the meaning of this sudden interest in gold?"

Briscoe smiled.

"There's nothing sudden about it," he said. "It came on, as I told you,
years ago, and I've been thinking about the golden city ever since."

"Golden clouds," said Brace derisively. "Give it up, man, and stick to
the birds."

"I'll stick to them too," said Briscoe quietly. "I won't interfere with
your plans."

Brace was silent for a few minutes, during which the darkness seemed to
grow deeper, and the strange noises in the forest increased till it was
possible for an active imagination to conjure up the approach of endless
strange creatures bent upon attacking the invaders of their solitudes.
But the time glided on with the water gently lapping at the sides of the
boat they were in, and one moment Brace was trying hard to say something
to the American, the next he was gliding up the strange river towards
the overgrown crumbling walls of a city standing high upon a rocky
eminence a little back from the river bank. Then all at once the swift,
easy, gliding motion of the boat ceased, and though the sail was well
filled out they got no nearer to the city, whose gateway stood
temptingly open, while in the glowing evening sunshine crumbling wall
and tower appeared to be made of deadened gold.

For a few moments Brace sat gazing hard at the buildings, feeling
certain that this was the golden city of which Briscoe had spoken. Then
a strange feeling of irritation came over him, and he tried to turn and
order the crew to lay out their oars and pull for their lives so as to
reach the goal. But somehow he could not stir to rouse up the men to
row, and the boat remained strangely balanced upon the swiftly-gliding
water, just as if she were straining hard at an anchor which had been
thrown out astern.

Then--how the young man could not have explained--the ruddy golden city
grew fainter--darker--till it died away in a dense blackness; for it was
all a building