CHAPTER XXVI.
THE FATE OF A MISER.
As Manson gazed in horror at those two charred bodies reduced to skeletons in that dark cave, he felt more than ever that his every step for many days had been in obedience to some mysterious power that had at last brought him face to face with danger and death.
For one instant the impulse to turn from that ghastly sight and leave the cave came to him, but the baleful fascination of those hideous objects held him prisoner. He could not if he would turn away. One of the skeletons, for such they almost were, was that of a tall man, face up, the grinning teeth fully exposed; the other of smaller size, with legs and arms drawn together. No signs of clothing were visible on either, and the flesh appeared to have shrunk away, showing the shape of every bone. Midway between them lay a rusted pistol and just beyond, glistening in the faint light, were bits of glass. When his eyes grew accustomed to the sickening sight he raised them, looked around, and for the first time saw, a few feet away, a raised, table-like rock, and on it piles of round dark bits of metal. Taking two steps he stooped, and picking up one of these pieces held it close to the light. It was a twenty-dollar gold piece!
Wonder succeeded horror! What mystery was this? Two charred skeletons beside a pile of gold in this dark and silent cavern! Was it some infernal dream or a reality? He stooped and picked up more of the coins. Gold, every one! Then he examined others and found silver dollars and halves. He turned and looked about, holding one torch above his head, and almost expecting to see some spectral form half-hid in the shadows. Only the faintly outlined walls of rock could be seen. Then, feeling faint and weak from the intense strain, he hastily retraced his steps down and out of the cave. He was just in time, for the rising tide had almost cut off his exit. So weak now that he could hardly walk, he crept around to the keg and sat down to think. Then for the first time he looked at the sky and saw the sun faintly visible through the fog. What a blessed sight it was! He had never known before how good the sun could look to a poor, hungry, horror-struck mortal! Then he picked up a shell, and pouring a little of the rum out of the keg, drank it. It had a magic effect, for it brought back his strength and courage and a realization of what he had discovered. In the dread experiences he had just passed through, he had not comprehended what it meant to him. Now he did.
He, alone on that haunted island, abhorred and shunned by all, had found a fortune!
He drank a little more of the rum. Then he thought of his friends. Maybe at that very moment they were nearing the island!
He quickly clambered out of the walled-in pocket, and looked over the ocean. The fog was lifting, the wind rising, but no sail was visible. He was still a prisoner. Once more he heard that strange bellowing coming from somewhere beneath the island, but it had lost its terrors. He thought of those skeletons in the dark cavern, and only felt curious to know how those two human beings met their death. A thousand bulls, for aught he cared now, might bellow all they chose, so long as they did not show their horns above the rocks, and two or two dozen skeletons more or less in the cave made no difference. He had met and conquered the ghost of Pocket Island, and was himself once more.
He took one long look all around, where the white, crested waves were rolling as far as the eye could reach; then at the sun now shining bright and warm, and then returned to the cave. The entrance was half under water, but the tide was falling, and he boldly waded in. He was so eager now he could hardly wait to light a torch, and when once more inside, he did not even stop to look at the hideous skeletons, but went directly to the flat rock where the stacks of coin were; removed his coat, heaped all he could carry upon it, and returned to the sunlight. Wildly excited now, he carried his bundle to a flat shelf of rock near where he had first descended into "The Pocket," emptied it and returned for more. Three trips he made to secure his wondrous find, and when the last mildewed and tarnished bit of money was secured, he took the pistol and left the cave for good. Then, feeling a little faint and weak, he sat down on the shelf beside his pile of gold and silver, and examined the rusty weapon.