The priest handed him the lantern. "Look for yourself," he said.
Estenega took the lantern, and, holding it just above his head and close to the walls, slowly traversed the room. It was belted with three strata of crystal-like quartz, sown thick with glittering yellow specks and chunks. Each stratum was about three feet wide.
"There is a fortune here," he said. He felt none of the greed of gold, merely a recognition of its power.
"Yes, señor; enough to pay the debt of a nation."
"Where are we? Under what hill? I am sorry I had not a compass with me. It was impossible to make any accurate guess of direction in that slanting tunnel. Where is the outlet?"
The priest made no reply.
Estenega turned to him peremptorily. "Answer me. How can I find this place from without?"
"You never will find it from without. When the danger from Indians was over, a pious Father closed the opening. This gold is not for you. You could not find even the trap-door by yourself."
"Then why have you brought me here?"
"To tantalize you. To punish you for your insult to the Church through me. Kill me now, if you wish. Better death than hell."