torch; a few short mad words followed; then there was a weary groan, and all was silent.
It was some time ere the old man was able to rekindle the light; and, when once more the pine torch was held aloft, its rays fell upon the prostrate bodies of Antar and the master of the cavern. The former, who had been only stunned, speedily came to himself; and, while he was recovering, the beggar, having fixed his torch in one of the jars of gold, began hastily to fill his rags with jewels.
Antar, seated upon the ground, watched him, at first half-dreamily; but, as full consciousness returned, he staggered to his feet,
"Not so fast!" he said; "I have been nearly killed, and you have done nothing. The first choice is mine."
Yet still the old man continued to fill his rags as though he heard not. His eyes glistened with greed and covetousness, and his grisly hands seemed not large enough to clutch the wealth he saw before him. Antar, with an angry gesture, went
