He stooped as he spoke, and pressing the stone horizontally towards the wall, it moved from its bed, and slid away slowly, as if on wheels, beneath it exposing a cavity two feet square and about three feet deep, containing an oaken box, bound with strong bands of rusted steel.
"Here it lies, like a biscuit in a bucket! Let us see if the gold has got rusty."
He searched a few moments, and at length bore hard upon a corner of the box, but without producing any effect.
"The spring is as tight as if Old Nick had his foot on it. Let us try what this good steel, that has served me so often at a push, will do now."
He pressed the point of his cutlass with steady force against one corner, when suddenly the lid flew up, and a glittering pile of silver and gold, and a remarkably shaped dagger, a foot in length, wider at the point than the handle, and exceedingly rich with precious stones, met their eyes.
There was a general exclamation of surprise at this display of treasure. The young man took up the weapon and examined it with curiosity.
"That belonged to Hurtel of the Red-Hand, and he prized it, too!" said the old pirate. "It shall be thine, young man! Holding it with that grasp as you do, and your kindling eye, I would swear my old comrade stood before me. If nature put the father's looks on all children as she has on thee, it would be a blind father that wouldn't know his own child. But it's only bas—hoit! I mean to say that children honestly come by seldom show the breed they hail from as some other sort o' craft do—I'faith, I haven't bettered it much! But, no harm meant, my brave fellow! Keep that yataghan for your father's sake. He knew its use, and, if you are long under me—"
"Under you?" repeated the youth, his natural spirit breaking out.
"Ha! I like that! Better men than I will soon be under you, I see—'tis in you born and bred! So! let us heave out this precious metal. Six thousand told pounds, if my memory serves me. Heave heartily, boys. There she moves! Now she rises on her toes! Steady strain. Hearty, hearty. There you are!"
"Hafey golt 'tish dat dere, Evan," said one, straightening his bent loins.