“Very well,” said Robert. “Untie him, boys, and bring him along. I will show him whether I lie.”
“Where are they taking me to?” asked Meyer. “Not into the cave? I won’t go into the cave; it is haunted. If it hadn’t been for the ghost there I would have broken down their wall long ago, and killed that old snake before her eyes. Whenever I went near that wall I saw it watching me.”
“First time I ever heard of a ghost being useful,” remarked Robert. “Bring him along. No, Benita, he shall see whether I am a liar.”
So the lights were lit, and the two stalwart Zulus hauled Jacob forward, Robert and Benita following. At first he struggled violently, then, on finding that he could not escape, went on, his teeth chattering with fear.
“It is cruel,” remonstrated Benita.
“A little cruelty will not do him any harm,” Robert answered. “He has plenty to spare for other people. Besides, he is going to get what he has been looking for so long.”
They led Jacob to the foot of the crucifix, where a paroxysm seemed to seize him, then pushed him through the swinging doorway beneath, and down the steep stairs, till once more they all stood in the treasure-chamber.
“Look,” said Robert, and, drawing his hunting-knife, he slashed one of the hide bags, whereon instantly there flowed out a stream of beads and nuggets. “Now, my friend, am I a liar?” he asked.
At this wondrous sight Jacob’s terror seemed to depart from him, and he grew cunning.
“Beautiful, beautiful!” he said, “more than I thought—sacks and sacks of gold. I shall be a king indeed. No, no, it is all a dream—like the rest. I don’t believe it’s there. Loose my arms and let me feel it.”