The dull eyes of the Swede gleamed with the glint of the treasure itself.
"Ay, she make us all rich for life."
"Now, Swedie, don't get no such notion in your thick head, the chief's as glib with promisin' as a wench that's atter yer roll."
"Yu tank he go back on us—double cross us, you say?"
"Well, now I wouldn't swear as to that. But what's to prevent him? Ye can't reef canvas after the ship's sunk. Now I've a little idee, an' it's a good one."
Looking around cautiously to see that the place was quite as solitary as it seemed, the plotter proceeded to drill the "little idee" into the tow head. It seemed to register, and soon these two untied the clanking chains, and began a queer series of manæuvres of their own with the chest, the sacks, and stones.
•••••••
And all the while the girl sat alone in the deserted cavern above the sea.
"I must not give up, I must not give up," she repeated over and over and over to herself. How her bones ached from the contact with the rocky floor!
It was all so still up here. Not even the roar of the breakers below ascended to this height; there was only the shriek of some gull, or the moan of the wind wandering through the hollow chambers, as lonely and forlorn as the captive maiden. She looked back into the darkness. It was impenetrable, not even relieved by flickering shadows now.
