Visions of gold and precious stones flashed through their mind; George trembled with excitement; Marmaduke was in ecstacy; Steve was bewildered.
George stopped for a moment, panting and eager; then he turned to digging again—so furiously that the sweat streamed from every part of his body.
Not a word was spoken.
Dirt enough was soon removed to discover—what?
An iron-bound box!
Again the Sage paused. Although Steve was as much excited as the others, he thought this a fitting time to observe: “Well, George, we have exposed the necromancer’s fable, and it is getting late; so let us pack up and go home.”
“Go home?” echoed George. “Go home—without seeing what we have found?”
“Certainly. It can’t be a treasure, you know; because it isn’t six feet down in the ground!”
George was thunder-struck. But he soon rallied, and made answer: “Well, so many queer things have happened, perhaps the spirits got demoralized, and raised the box.”
“No they didn’t,” Steve retorted; “spirits never get demoralized. And besides, I’m ashamed of you, George, for staying here any longer. You know you don’t believe a single word of it,” with cutting irony. “So, let us do what the copy-book tells us, and make the most of time while we are young. Let us hurry home.”