The smugglers worked with a will. The casks were rolled under the tackle, and whipped up to the open air. Six in all were sent up, and then the men began to handle the bales. At length two of the rogues laid hands on the box of silks wherein I lay concealed. I had a difficulty in restraining myself from springing up; but with a great effort I remained perfectly quiet, though expecting every moment to find a knife passed through my body, or a dozen rough hands seize me in their merciless grip.
"Be this one to go?"
"Bide a bit. I'll ax."
The footsteps died away and came again.
"Yes, Charlie, up with it!"
"What a weight!" muttered one man with an oath. "Here, Dick, come here a moment and bear a hand. Who'd a thought as that silk be so weighty?"
"Is the straw agoin' too?"
My heart was literally in my mouth.
"No; but stop! P'raps it'll save questions being axed, and straw's cheap enow."
I felt myself being lifted with my luxurious bed and carried across the floor of the cave. Then slings were fastened round the crate, the tackle creaked, and I was on my way to the open air, the box rubbing and grinding against the sides of the shaft in its ascent.