“Dios mio! What is that?” exclaimed Angela, dropping her book and springing to her feet, an example which I instantly followed, for the earth was moving under us, and there fell on our ears, for the first time, the dread sound of subterranean thunder.

“An earthquake!”

But the alarm was only momentary.  In less time than it takes to tell the trembling ceased and the thunder died away.

“Only a slight shock, after all,” I said, “and I hope we shall have no more.  However, it is just as well to be prepared.  I will have the mules got out of the stable; and if there is anything inside you particularly want you had better fetch it.  I will join you in the garden presently.”

As I passed through the house I saw Kidd coming out of the room where I kept my specimens.

“What are you doing there?” I asked him, sharply.

“I went for a tool I left there” (holding up a chisel).  “Did you feel the shock?”

“Yes, and there may be another.  Tell Maximiliano to get the mules out.”

“If he has been after the diamonds,” I thought, “he must know that I have taken them away.  I had better make sure of them.”  And with that I stepped into my room, put on my quilted jacket, and armed myself with a small hatchet and a broad-bladed, highly tempered knife, given to me by the abbe, which served both as a dagger and a machete.

When I had seen the mules safely tethered, and warned the servants and others to run into the open if there should be another shock, I returned to Angela, who had resumed her seat in the veranda.

“Equipped for the mountains!  Where away now, caro mio?” she said, regarding me with some surprise.

“Nowhere.  At any rate, I have no present intention of running away.  I have put on my jacket because of these diamonds, and brought my hatchet and hunting-knife because, if the house collapses, I should not be able to get them at the very time they would be the most required.”

“If the house collapses!  You think, then, we are going to have a bad earthquake?”

“It is possible.  This is an earthquake country; there has been nothing more serious than a slight trembling since long before the abbe died; and I have a feeling that something more serious is about to happen.  Underground thunder is always an ominous symptom.—­Ah!  There it is again.  Run into the garden.  I will bring the chairs and wraps.”

The house being timber built and one storied, I had little fear that it would collapse; but anything may happen in an earthquake, and in the garden we were safe from anything short of the ground on which we stood actually gaping or slipping bodily down the mountain-side.

The second shock was followed by a third, more violent than either of its predecessors.  The earth trembled and heaved so that we could scarcely stand.  The underground thunder became louder and continuous and, what was even more appalling, we could distinctly see the mountain-tops move and shake, as if they were going to fall and overwhelm us.