He nodded.
“Treasure-seeking?”
He nodded again.
“Uncle, at times it almost seemed to me a madness; but I persevered and succeeded. Look here!”
I tore open the case and showed him the sixteen golden ingots remaining.
“And you found all that, Harry! My boy, you were fortunate indeed.”
“All that, Uncle!” I said with a smile. “That is not a hundredth part. I am rich. I? No! We are rich; and now I want your advice. What are we to do? for I’ve hidden my treasure again till I can fetch it away in safety.”
“You have done well, then,” he said gravely. “But is not this some delusion, my boy?”
“Are these delusive, Uncle?” I exclaimed, clinking together two of the sonorous little bars. “Were those delusive which Garcia has carried off? No, Uncle, I thought once it must be a dream; but it is a solid reality. I have found the treasures of one of the temples of the Sun—ingots, plates, sheets, cups, and two great shields besides, all of solid metal.”
“Harry,” said my uncle, “it sounds like a wild invention from some story-teller’s pen, and I should laugh in your face but for the proofs you have given me. But you must not stay here in this country. It is as much yours as any lucky adventurer’s, but your right would be disputed in a hundred quarters; while, as for the Indians—”