A little more, and I had cleared
away the sand from the top of a large chest with a convex lid,
heavily bound in brass.
Furiously I flung the sand aside until the chest stood free for
half its depth--which is roughly three feet. It has handles at the
ends, great hand-wrought loops of metal. I tugged my hardest, but
the chest seemed fast in its place as the native rock. I laughed
exultantly. The weight meant gold--gold! I had hammer and chisel
with me, and with these I forced the massive ancient locks. There
were three of them, one for each strip of brass which bound the
chest. Then I flung up the lid.
No glittering treasure dazzled me. I saw only a surface of stained
canvas, tucked in carefully around the edges. This I tore off and
flung aside--eclipsing poor Benjy, who was a most interested
spectator of my strange proceedings. Still no gleam of gold,
merely demure rows of plump brown bags. With both hands I reached
for them. Oh, to grasp them all! I had to be content with two,
because they were so heavy, so blessedly heavy!
I spread the square of canvas on the sand, cut the strings from the
bags, and poured out--gold, gold! All fair shining golden coins
they were, not a paltry silver piece among them! And they made a
soft golden music as they fell in a glorious yellow heap.
I don't know how long I sat there, playing with my gold, running it
through my fingers, clinking the coins together in my palm.
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