“Yes,” said Ingleborough; “that is where I meant.”
“Why, I thought o’ that once,” cried the sergeant, “and then I says to myself: ‘That’s too stoopid a place; no one would hide diamonds where they’re sure to be found’; but I crept underneath on my hands and knees and gave it a swing so as to make the water wash about inside. That satisfied me, and I came away.”
“You have hit the mark, Mr West,” said the General, smiling. “There is no doubt about it! Look at the prisoner’s face!”
Anson tried hard to pull it back into its normal shape, for he had been gazing at West with a malignant look that meant anything from a rifle-shot to a stab with a bayonet.
“Now, sergeant, see if you can do better this time!” cried the General, as Anson’s mouth shut with a click.
Then he stood fast with his brow wrinkled and his hands clenched, waiting expectantly with the rest of those present until the cask was set free from the raw-hide reins by which it was slung under the hind
part of the wagon, and then rolled out, giving forth the regular hollow sound of a barrel half-full of liquid.
“Only sounds like water!” muttered the sergeant, and he set it running, to soak into the dry ground, and draining out as much as he could, before giving an order to the nearest man to take hold of one end while he raised the other, both men looking stern and severe in the extreme. Then together they gave the cask a lusty shake, and the sound which followed was that of some shovels full of pebbles rattling in the inside.
The next minute they had set the cask down on end with a grin of delight, which was taken up by their fellows, while a satisfied smile dawned upon the faces of the aides-de-camp.