As we passed the point of rock where I had noticed what had seemed to me signs of hammering, my uncle paused.
“Here is one place where I prospected,” he said. He pointed to a thread-like vein of yellow. “I believe that is gold. But I have never had tools to follow a ledge vein, and have done rather more at looking for placers, such as I saw in California, in the fifties.”
My hopes withered. The tiny yellow streak seemed to me so small and uncertain. As for “placers,” I only knew dimly that they were connected in some way with “pockets,” and “washing.”
We pushed on to his hut of stones. A very comfortable hut we had found it to be, and more roomy than it had appeared from without. My uncle entered first, and presently called to us. Within, he indicated seats on the stone benches ranged around the walls. He first exhibited a few curiosities he had gathered during his long exile, then also seating himself, he said:
“My nephew Nicholas confided to me last night a matter I take to be well understood by all present. It concerns chiefly himself and a certain young lady, who is not far away.” He looked toward Edith Gale, who blushed and smiled, but said nothing. “Nicholas told me further,” my uncle continued, “of his lack of fortune, and his unwillingness to hold her to a promise made with different prospects ahead.”
At this point Chauncey Gale started to speak, but my Uncle Nicholas checked him. I did not look at Edith, but she told me afterwards how she felt, and I sympathized with her. My uncle proceeded.
“I told my nephew that money was not all of life. That he would give to the world a treasure of information, and that love was still greater than either knowledge or riches.”
I began to grow uncomfortable. Also, less glad than I had been that we had discovered my uncle. True, he had not talked to anybody for so long that he was doubtless anxious to make up for lost time, but I wished he had selected some other subject. We waited the end in silence.
“He would have been my heir,” he went on, “had my ship come into port. He is my heir to-day of whatever of property or prospect I may leave behind. Of prospect I believe there is considerable on this island. Of property—well, as I told Nick, I have had a good deal of time on my hands during the past twenty-one years, and the result”—turning, he laid his hand on a great flat stone in the wall near him, and swung it aside—“it is in there—you can see it for yourselves.”
We leaned forward and looked into the opening made. Beyond, there was a sort of storehouse or small room, the floor smoothly covered with skins. In the center arose a heap or pyramid of what appeared to be irregular yellow lumps of earth, or pebbles, of varying sizes—some very small—others quite large. No one spoke, but we looked at him questioningly.