It was the hand of God that led
us here, O'Reilly. Tell me, what do you see now?"
Johnnie had wormed his way into the damp chamber and a slim
rectangle of light was projected against the opposite side of the
well. Rosa could hear him talking and moving about.
Don Esteban Varona's subterranean hiding-place was large enough to
store a treasure far greater than his; it was perhaps ten feet in
length, with a roof high enough to accommodate a tall man. At the
farther end were ranged several small wooden chests bound with
iron and fitted with hasps and staples, along one side was a row
of diminutive casks, the sort used to contain choice wines or
liquors; over all was a thick covering of slime and mold. The iron
was deeply rusted and the place itself smelled abominably stale.
O'Reilly surveyed this Aladdin's cave in a daze. He set his candle
down, for his fingers were numb and unsteady. Cautiously, as if
fearful of breaking some spell, he stooped and tried to move one
of the casks, but found that it resisted him as if cemented to the
rock. He noted that its head was bulged upward, as if by the
dampness, so he took his iron bar and aimed a sharp blow at the
chine. A hoop gave way; another blow enabled him to pry out the
head of the cask. He stood blinking at the sight exposed, for the
little barrel was full of coins--yellow coins, large and small.
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