“No,” he answered, with a sigh; “but I have seen the casket that holds our treasure. I have looked on the valley from the eye. We are very near it at last. Will you come and see?”
“I will wait till he can join us. It is at sunrise only—is it not?—we can see the Golden Rock. And to-morrow, then, let us stand together and watch for the ray that is to guide us.”
Hume looked at Webster, and he remembered the silent mysterious foe who had dogged their footsteps. “If to-morrow’s sun shines for us,” he murmured.
At last, in the afternoon, Webster suddenly sat up, and with a wild glare in his eyes, stared around him.
“We are here, Jim,” she whispered softly.
The bloodshot eyes sought her pale face. “And Frank?” he asked. She drew aside, showing Hume standing there.
“Look out!” he cried hoarsely, “there is danger here. I was struck down just now by some unseen hand. Give me my rifle.”
“There is no fear at present,” she said gently. “Several hours have gone since we found you here.”
“And Laura has nursed you all that time;” and Hume placed her hand in that of the wounded man.
Then he stepped out again to keep guard, while Klaas, who had been very subdued, took infinite pains to make the kettle boil out of such scanty fuel as he could find. When night closed down Webster was able to sit up, but was still too dizzy to stand, and could not, much to his concern, take his turn at guard. Klaas was stationed at the back of the cave, Sirayo at its mouth, while Hume went forward to seat himself in the eye itself.