"I dug and I dug until I had gone down more than two feet; then I dug on and on until, standing in the passage as I was, I could not reach down any deeper into the hole I had made. So I crawled into the tomb, crouched down on my breast, and dug down and down as far as I could reach.
"Then," said Mr. Crowder, looking at us as he spoke, "I found the box."
A great sigh of relief came from Mrs. Crowder.
"I was so afraid," said she--"I was so afraid it had sunk out of reach."
"No," said he; "its weight had probably made it settle down, and then the dust of ages, as I remarked before, had accumulated over it. That sort of thing is going on in Rome all the time. But I found my box, and, after hours and hours of wandering, I got out of the catacombs."
"How was that?" we both asked.
"I was so excited at the recovery of my treasures after the lapse of three centuries that when I turned into the first passage I forgot to count those which crossed it, and my mind became so thoroughly mixed up in regard to this labyrinth that I don't know when I would have found my way out if I had not heard a little animal--I don't know what it was --scurrying away in front of me. I followed it, and eventually saw a little speck of light. That proved to be the hole through which I had come in."
"What did thee do with the jewels?" asked Mrs. Crowder.
Her husband looked at his watch, and then held it with the face toward her.
She gave a cry of surprise, and we all went up-stairs to bed.