At length he shouted to them to lower away again, and they obeyed, until nearly all the chain was out, and they knew he must be near the water.  Now Benita, peeping over the edge, saw that the star of light had vanished.  His lamp was out, nor did he appear to attempt to re-light it.  They shouted down the well to him, but no answer coming, began to wind up as fast as they were able.  It was all that their united strength could manage, and very exhausted were they when at length Jacob reappeared at the top.  At first, from the look of him they thought that he was dead, and had he not tied himself to the chain, dead he certainly would have been, for evidently his senses had left him long ago.  Indeed, he had fallen almost out of the seat, over which his legs hung limply, his weight being supported by the hide rope beneath his arms which was made fast to the chain.

They swung him in and dashed water over his face, till, to their relief, at last he began to gasp for breath, and revived sufficiently to enable them to half-lead and half-carry him out into the fresh air.

“What happened to you?” asked Clifford.

“Poisoned with gases, I suppose,” Meyer answered with a groan, for his head was aching sadly.  “The air is often bad at the bottom of deep wells, but I could smell or feel nothing until suddenly my senses left me.  It was a near thing—­a very near thing.”

Afterwards, when he had recovered a little, he told them that at one spot deep down in the well, on the river side of it, he found a place where it looked as though the rock had been cut away for a space of about six feet by four, and afterwards built up again with another sort of stone set in hard mortar or cement.  Immediately beneath, too, were socket-holes in which the ends of beams still remained, suggesting that here had been a floor or platform.  It was while he was examining these rotted beams that insensibility overcame him.  He added that he thought that this might be the entrance to the place where the gold was hidden.

“If so,” said Mr. Clifford, “hidden it must remain, since it can have no better guardian than bad air.  Also, floors like that are common in all wells to prevent rubbish from falling into the water, and the stonework you saw probably was only put there by the ancients to mend a fault in the rock and prevent the wall from caving in.”

“I hope so,” said Meyer, “since unless that atmosphere purifies a good deal I don’t think that even I dare go down again, and until one gets there, of that it is difficult to be sure, though of course a lantern on a string will tell one something.”