“All right, sir,” was the response, and more flame and light and less smoke was the result, while more light came in from the windows above, for as the hot acrid smoke poured out the leafage writhed and crinkled up, taking up half the space it had occupied before.
There was nothing to hinder the advance, as Brace and Briscoe carefully felt their way between the two rows of menacing figures, till they reached the square elevation, a good ten feet high, and then found that they could ascend a flight of steps thick with powdered stone.
At the broad landing at the top the altar was about waist-high, and now for the first time they made out that at the back there was a big sitting figure, whose breast seemed to be covered with a kind of rayed shield; but everything was indistinct in the flickering light, and the figure was absolutely clothed in dust.
Just then Briscoe stretched out his left hand and laid it upon one of the objects which stood in a row on either side of the altar.
The next moment he began to breathe hard as if he were about to have a fit.
“What’s the matter?” said Brace anxiously; “overcome by the heat and smoke?”
“No, no,” whispered Briscoe hoarsely. “Touch that thing nearest to you.”
Brace did as was suggested, and found that it was heavy, but that he could move it.
“Why, it isn’t stone,” he said, “but metal. It must be some kind of ornament.”
“Yes,” said Briscoe, in a hoarse whisper, “and that kitchen place we went in first was a foundry; that next place where you spoke of a rubbish heap was all ore. I picked up a bit, as you know, and it’s rich. Brace, my lad, we’ve found the Spaniards’ El Dorado, and these ornaments we have just touched are solid gold.”