“And he alone shared father’s confidence.  That sunken garden was all Sebastian’s work; he spent all his time there, although he was a big, strong man and capable of any task.  No one else was allowed to tend it.  Why?  I’ll tell you.  They feared to let any one else draw the water.  Isabel searched for years:  if that treasure had been above ground her sharp nose would have smelled it out, and now Cueto has moved the very earth.”

Rosa sat back, disappointed.  “So that’s your theory?”

“It’s more than a theory,” the boy insisted.  “Look at this!” From the pocket of his cotton trousers he produced an odd-looking coin which he placed in Rosa’s hand.

“Why, it’s gold!  It’s a Spanish doubloon,” she said.  “It’s the first one I ever saw.  Where did you find it?”

“You’ll think I’m crazy when I tell you—­sometimes I think so myself.  I found it in Isabel’s hand when I took her from the well!”

Rosa was stricken speechless.

“She clutched it tightly,” Esteban hurried on, “but as I made the rope fast her hand relaxed and I saw it in the lantern-light.  It was as if—­well, as if she gave it to me.  I was too badly frightened to think much about it, as you may imagine.  It was a horrible place, all slime and foul water; the rocks were slippery.  But that coin was in her fingers.”

Rosa managed to say:  “Impossible!  Then she must have had it when she fell.”

“No, no!  I saw her hands upstretched, her fingers open, in the moonlight.”

“It’s uncanny.  Perhaps—­”

“Yes.  Perhaps some unseen hand led her to the place so that we should at last come into our own.  Who knows?  I didn’t bother my head about the matter at first, what with our flight and all, but now I reason that there must be other coins where this one came from.  There’s no doubt that father hid his money.  He turned his slaves into gold, he bought jewels, precious metal, anything he could hide.  Well, perhaps there were old coins in the lot.  The water in the well is shallow; Isabel must have groped this piece from the bottom.  Some day I shall explore the hole and—­we shall see.”

Rosa flung her arms rapturously about her brother’s neck and kissed him.  “Wouldn’t it be glorious?” she cried.  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful, to be rich, and to want for nothing; to have fine clothes and good things to eat once more?  Good things to eat!” Her lip quivered.  “Oh—­I’m so hungry.”

“Poor little girl!”

“Wait till O’Reilly hears about this.”  Rosa was all excitement once more.  “He’ll be glad he came and got me, if he does come.”

Esteban caressed her.  “He’ll come, never fear.  You remember he warned me to be careful?  Well I—­I blame myself for bringing you to this.  For myself, of course I don’t mind, but for you this life must be terrible.  I know it.  Every time I leave you my heart is in my throat for fear of what may happen in my absence—­and yet I can’t always be at your side.”