"Hark!" said Wolfert, who fancied he heard a trampling among the dry
leaves, and a rustling through the bushes. Sam paused for a moment, and
they listened. No footstep was near. The bat flitted about them in
silence; a bird roused from its nest by the light which glared up among
the trees, flew circling about the flame. In the profound stillness of
the woodland they could distinguish the current rippling along the
rocky shore, and the distant murmuring and roaring of Hell Gate.
Sam continued his labors, and had already digged a considerable hole.
The doctor stood on the edge, reading formulae every now and then from
the black letter volume, or throwing more drugs and herbs upon the
fire; while Wolfert bent anxiously over the pit, watching every stroke
of the spade. Any one witnessing the scene thus strangely lighted up by
fire, lanthorn, and the reflection of Wolfert's red mantle, might have
mistaken the little doctor for some foul magician, busied in his
incantations, and the grizzled-headed Sam as some swart goblin,
obedient to his commands.
At length the spade of the fisherman struck upon something that sounded
hollow. The sound vibrated to Wolfert's heart. He struck his spade
again.
"'Tis a chest," said Sam.
"Full of gold, I'll warrant it!" cried Wolfert, clasping his hands with
rapture.
Scarcely had he uttered the words when a sound from overhead caught his
ear. He cast up his eyes, and lo! by the expiring light of the fire he
beheld, just over the disk of the rock, what appeared to be the grim
visage of the drowned buccaneer, grinning hideously down upon him.
Wolfert gave a loud cry and let fall the lanthorn. His panic
communicated itself to his companions. The negro leaped out of the
hole, the doctor dropped his book and basket and began to pray in
German. All was horror and confusion. The fire was scattered about, the
lanthorn extinguished. In their hurry-skurry they ran against and
confounded one another. They fancied a legion of hobgoblins let loose
upon them, and that they saw by the fitful gleams of the scattered
embers, strange figures in red caps gibbering and ramping around them.
The doctor ran one way, Mud Sam another, and Wolfert made for the water
side. As he plunged struggling onwards through bush and brake, he heard
the tread of some one in pursuit.
He scrambled frantically forward. The footsteps gained upon him. He
felt himself grasped by his cloak, when suddenly his pursuer was
attacked in turn: a fierce fight and struggle ensued - a pistol was
discharged that lit up rock and bush for a period, and showed two
figures grappling together - all was then darker than ever.
