"The arm of the God of Hosts, the sentence of the Most High," replied Phil solemnly.
The officer took off his cap and crossed himself reverently.
Then he said,—"Go on, my man; I am listening."
"In the spring of one year," went on Philip Bexal, "there came from the east a terrible visitation, a pestilence such as had not been known there before. It swept through the land on the wings of the biting east wind, and men fell before it as the flies drop before the winter's breath. Right in among the lawless, godless band the black death leapt. Hard-drinking, foul-living men—what stand could they make against the awful scourge? To right and left they fell, smitten down, like Israel of old, by God's destroying angel. Only a few—so runs the tale—only a few escaped, and they took ship and fled away, leaving their goods behind, feeling, doubtless, that, like Achan, they were being punished for the possession of the accursed thing."
"And who may this Achan be of whom thou speakest?" asked the young officer.
"Noble sir, he is a character of Holy Scripture," answered Philip Bexal.
"It seems to me that thou art well versed in Holy Writ," remarked the stranger, his lip curling in a sarcastic smile.
"Sir, I am a Lutheran, and we of Luther's creed read our Bibles with diligence, finding in them the revelation of God's will and the chart for our guidance over life's sea."
"Indeed!" responded the officer dryly. "This is all very interesting, but now I will thank thee to proceed, my friend, for truth to say, thy tale is over long, and I ought to be moving on towards Klingengolf. My tarantass and post horses, as thou knowest, wait in the road not far from this."
"I have nearly finished," said Philip. "It is said that the great wave of death rolled on after a while, and this part of the land began to recover. Gradually the former haunts of the robbers became inhabited by peaceable people; a part of the denser forests were cut down, the wild beasts became scarce, and the country grew more civilized. Only that, following the bad example of the robber band, some of the people, having built ships, sailed forth to become pirates in their turn, and this did they till King Eric the Saint, of Sweden, weary of their evil practices, and of the danger to his own merchant vessels, in the twelfth century undertook a crusade against them, and compelled the people here, who were nothing better than pagans so far, to embrace Christianity. But from the time of the pestilence, every now and again rumour hath busied itself about the treasure of the robbers, though no one has ever seen a vestige of it; and to this present day, noble sir, that island is held to be the very heart of the golden mystery, and to hide somewhere in its rocky bosom the long-hoarded secret.