Cuthbert’s heart beat so fast that he almost feared Robin would hear his deep breathing; but the man was looking down into the well, laughing to himself in the peculiarly malevolent fashion that Cuthbert had heard before.  He never moved from the side of the well for the long hour he remained; and Cuthbert, waiting in feverish impatience till he should be gone, felt as though he had never known an hour so long.

But it ended at last.  The tall figure reared itself upright, and he heard the voice distinctly now.

“I must be going—­I must be going.  Miriam will be asking questions.  That hag is the plague of my life.  All safe—­all safe.  And now I will depart.”

The tall figure put on its stooping gait, which appeared to be second nature, and went slouching away through the underwood along the narrow track.  Cuthbert waited till there had been a long spell of perfect silence, and then he glided with cat-like caution to the ground.

“I may not be able to see anything by this light, not even the glint of gold beneath the clear waters.  But he seemed to see.  He looked down and muttered, ‘Safe—­safe!’ Beshrew me but I trow I have the secret now!  The pixies’ well—­the hidden secret it guards so well.  All is true! all is true!  Why did I not think of it before?”

Creeping to the side of the well, Cuthbert peered over the edge and gazed fixedly into the dark water.  What was it he saw?  Was that moonlight shining and glinting there; or was it—­could it be—­Hold, what is this?

With a stifled cry Cuthbert strove to spring to his feet; but the attempt was vain.  He was encircled in the bear-like grip of a pair of arms that were strong as bands of iron around him.  He felt as though all the breath were being pressed out of him, and in his ear there rang a hideous laugh, the sound of which he knew but too well.

“Fool!” cried a hoarse voice, hissing the words in his ears—­“fool of a mad boy to trust a treacherous gipsy tale!  So thou thoughtest to outwit Long Robin!  Thou thoughtest to win back the lost treasure to the house of Trevlyn!  Mad boy—­fool of a hardy knave!  But yet thou shalt have thy wish—­thou shalt have thy will.  Thou shalt see with thine own eyes that long-lost treasure.”

There was a cruel sneer in the man’s eyes, a mocking inflection in his voice, that sent a thrill of cold horror through Cuthbert’s veins.  He was absolutely powerless in that merciless clasp.  He felt the strength leaving his limbs and his head turning giddy.  He only just knew it when he was laid upon the grass, his captor’s knee firmly planted on his chest; and then he felt his hands and feet being tightly and securely bound, whilst the stars in the sky seemed to reel and dance before his eyes, and he said to himself, without realizing the import of his own words: 

“He is going to kill me; he is going to kill me.”

“Yes, I am going to kill thee, mad boy,” said Long Robin coolly, as though he had heard the spoken word.  “I am going to kill thee, as I kill all those who dare to thwart my will or cross my path.  I shall kill thee; but thou shalt first have the desire of thine eyes and of thine heart.  Thou shalt see and thou shalt touch the long-lost treasure!  Thou shalt learn the secret ere thou diest, and thy ghost can impart it to thy friends.”