Casting his eye up for a moment he found those of his companion fixed on him.
He started from his reverie, and said in a dubious tone—
“The story you tell is, to say the least of it, a strange and improbable one. These hidden treasures are a hackneyed subject.”
His fellow-convict regarded him with a look of indignation.
“You do not believe me, then, Walter?” he murmured.
“Nay, I don’t say that,” was the quick response; “but how came the iron case to fall into your hands, and who did it belong to?”
“It would be too long a story to tell you how we became possessed of it—neither does it much matter. It belonged to an English merchant, who is long since dead.”
“Oh! then there is no claimant?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Will you promise me one thing?”