That night I forgot all past perils as I dreamed of gold ­swimming in it ­rolling in it ­for it seemed to possess all the qualities of quicksilver, and whenever I tried to hold it or sweep it up it all escaped through my fingers.

I woke at last with a start, with my chest heaving, and my face and limbs bathed with a cold, dank perspiration.

As far as I could judge it wanted a couple of hours to daybreak; but I felt too much agitated to try and sleep again.  So rising and hurrying on my clothes, I sat there, hour after hour, thinking and planning my future course, for a night’s rest had not weakened my convictions.

The determination I came to at last was, that I could not do better than smother my impatience for a whole week; taking, the while, excursions in every other direction so as, if possible, to blind any one who made a study of my movements.  Then my journey to the cavern must be made by night, armed with spades, and taking with us a couple of mules to bring home the spoil.

So I mused, little recking of what was to come, till the great golden sun rose from his glorious bed, when, after lying down an hour for the sake of the rest, I rose and sought for Tom, to find him indulging in that bad habit of his, a morning pipe; when I told him my plans, and also asked him if he thought that we ought to take my uncle into our confidence.

“Not by no means, Mas’r Harry,” he said.

“I may depend on you, Tom, of course?” I said, “Depend on me, Mas’r Harry?  Ah!  I should think so.  There never was nobody couldn’t stick to no one no tighter than I’ll stick to you.  There won’t be no getting rid of me; so don’t never think so no more.  What you say is quite right, and we’ll wait a week.  If no one ain’t touched that stuff for three hundred years they’ll leave it alone another week.  I’ll be on the look-out for a couple of mules and spades, and we’ll go, like the forty thieves, to the enchanted cavern, eh, Mas’r Harry?  I’ll get ’em, and we’ll put them into the little wood under the mountain-side, eh? and keep ’em there till it’s dark, when we’ll start.  A week to-day, or a week to-morrow?”

“A week to-day, Tom,” I said; “and if you’ll hang about here, I’ll tell you what time we’ll go for a shooting trip.”

We had a roam after breakfast, and then, returning to the mid-day meal, I spent some time about the plantation, when, feeling tired and overcome with the heat, I went into the house, lay down upon the couch in the darkened room, and, I suppose, from the effects of past fatigue, soon dropped off into a sound slumber.

I have some recollection of hearing voices and a low, buzzing sound that, in my confused state, seemed somehow to be mixed up with gold.  Then it was Lilla’s beautiful golden hair, and I was seeing it spread out and floating once more upon the surface of the river.  Then I was wide awake, for I had heard Garcia’s voice utter my name with an intensity of bitterness that made me shudder as I rose upon my elbow.

“I tell you he goes to the Indian villages, where there are dark ­ skinned maidens.  I know it; and then he comes back here, pretending to be ill and tired with his travels.”

“It is not true!” I heard Lilla exclaim angrily.  “And if he were here now ­”

“But he is not here now,” said Garcia sneeringly.  “He has some assignation in the moonlit woods with one of his dark beauties, with fire-flies in her hair and flashing eyes, such as those cold-blooded Englishmen love.”

“It is false!” cried Lilla; “and if he were here you would not dare to say it.”

“Look here!” he said.  “I will be played with no longer.  I have been calm and patient while this English dog has come in here to insult and try to supplant me.  He has always been placed before me since the day he set foot in the plantation.  Your mother is my debtor, and you are promised to me.  Let there be any more of this trifling, and I will bring down ruin upon the place.  I have sued gently and tenderly, but it is useless.  Now I will show you that I am master; promise me now that you will speak to him no more, or ­”

I never knew what threat Garcia would have uttered for just then running forward I dashed out my clenched fist with all my might, and with a crash the Don went down over a chair just as my uncle and Mrs Landell ran into the room.

“What does this mean?” exclaimed my uncle angrily, as Lilla ran, sobbing, to her mother.

“He struck me!” cried Garcia furiously, as he scrambled up.  “He has insulted me ­a hidalgo of Spain ­and I’ll have his blood!”

“Better go and wash your face clear of your own,” I said contemptuously, as I suffered from an intense longing to go and kick him.  “He was rude to my cousin, Uncle, and I knocked him down.  That’s all.”

With a savage scowl upon his face Garcia made for the door, turned to shake his fist at me, and he was gone.

“Hal,” said my uncle gently ­“Hal, my boy, I’d have given a year of my life sooner than this should have happened.  You don’t know these half-blood Spaniards as I do.  You don’t know what mischief may befall us all through your rashness.”

“I wonder that you admit him to your house, Uncle!” I exclaimed hotly, for anger was getting the better of discretion.

I was sorry, though, the next minute; for, on hearing my words, my uncle glanced in a troubled way at his wife, who was trying to soothe poor weeping Lilla; while, during the next hour, I learned that I had had the misfortune to strike down the man who was my uncle’s creditor to a large amount, as he had been Mrs Landell’s, or they would not have allowed his attentions to Lilla.

“I’m ashamed of it all, my boy,” said my uncle; “but he holds our future entirely in his hands, and he looks for the receipt of Lilla’s little dowry as part payment of the debts.  I’ve struggled very hard against ruin, Hal, and now it seems that it must come.  But after all, I don’t know that I’m sorry, for it would have been a cruel thing ­like selling that poor child.  But when a man is embarrassed as I am, what can he do?  And besides, we both thought at one time that Lilla had a leaning towards him.  It was when he seemed to come forward generously with his money, which I was foolish enough to take.  But there, let it pass; and I repeat, mind, Hal, that I cannot allow matters to go on between you and Lilla.  All will be at an end with Garcia, I suppose, and we shall have to turn out; but I cannot encourage you.  I must begin again, I suppose.”

“Uncle,” I said, “I am deeply grieved that my coming should work such evil in the place,” for my anger had now evaporated.  “I ask your pardon for bringing such trouble upon your house.  I could not help loving Lilla; to see her was to do that; and even now, if I saw that fellow brutally using his strength against her, I should feel obliged to strike him.”

“Things must take their course, Harry,” said my uncle; “and I don’t know that, after all, I am very much grieved.  We have seen the man now in his true colours, and I learn that one of those colours is that which is worn by a coward.  But while you stay, Harry, beware!  Garcia has sworn that he’ll have your blood, and he will!”

“Yes, Uncle,” I said quietly, “if he can!”

“Just so, Harry; but take care.”

“I’ll be on my guard, Uncle,” I replied.

And then I left him to go and think, my pulses throbbing as I thought of the exciting turn my adventures were taking ­the event of the last hour ­my discovery, if such it could be called; and I longed for the time when I could put it to the proof.