“That can’t be he,” said Freeman. “It was at least a quarter of a mile off, and the wrong direction, too. He’s in the gorge, if he’s anywhere.”
“Hark!” said Semitzin.
They listened, and detected a low murmur, this time from the gorge.
“He’s fallen down and hurt himself,” said Freeman. “Let’s go after him.”
In a few moments they stumbled upon the old Indian, reclining with his shoulders against a rock, and gasping heavily.
“My princess,” he whispered, as she bent over him, “I am dying. The poisonous air in the cave was fatal to me, though the spell that is upon the Golden Fleece protected you. I have done what the gods commanded. I am absolved of my vow. The treasure is safe.”
“Nonsense! you’re all right!” exclaimed Freeman. “Here, take a pull at this flask. It did me all the good in the world!”
But the old man put it aside, with a feeble gesture of the hand. “My time is come,——” said he.—“Semitzin, I have been faithful.”
“Semitzin, again!” muttered Freeman. “What does it mean?”
“But what is this?” cried the girl, suddenly starting to her feet. “I feel the sleep coming on me again! I feel Miriam returning! Kamaiakan, have you betrayed me at the last?”