And then, when his strength and nerve had all but given out, came deliverance. Before him he saw a faint glimmer of light, which grew brighter and brighter as he pressed painfully forward, and ere he knew that he was safe he found himself in the gallery behind the organ loft.

But what was the brilliant light that filled the nave of the Cathedral?

What was the sound he heard? It was the sound of men's voices.

Sitting round a fire, whose red flames illumined the white walls of the grotto, were four men, who talked loudly as they dried their wet garments before the blaze.

Tresco crept to the trellis-work of the gallery, and peered down upon the scene. In the shifting light which the unsteady flames threw across the great cave below he could hardly distinguish one man from another, except where facing the ruddy light the features of this intruder or of that reflected the fierce glow.

"I had to chiv the fat bloke, an' he squealed like a pig when I jabbed 'im." The speaker was sitting cross-legged with his back towards Tresco, and was wiping the blade of a big butcher's knife.

"My man died coughing," said another. "'E coughed as 'e sat like a trussed fowl, an' when I 'squeezed' 'im, 'e just give one larst little cough an' pegged out quite pleasant, like droppin' orf to sleep."

"It's been a b.l.o.o.d.y mess," remarked a third speaker. "There's Garstang there, a ma.s.s of blood all over his shirt, and there's the two men that was shot; any'ow you like to look at it, it's an unworkmanlike job. All four of 'em should ha' been 'squeezed'--bullets make reports and blood's messy."

"Garn! Whatyer givin' us, Dolly?" said the youngest member of the gang.

"Didn't you shoot your own man--an' on the track, too? I don't see what you've got to growl at. We've got the gold--what more do you want?"

"I shot the unfortunate man, your Honour, firstly because he was a constable, and secondly because he was givin' trouble, your Honour. But I prefer to do these things professionally." Dolphin's mock seriousness tickled his hearers, and they laughed. "But, joking apart," he said, "after all the experience we've had, to go and turn that mountain-side into a butcher's shambles is nothin' short of disgraceful. They all ought to've been 'squeezed,' an' have died as quiet as mice, without a drop of blood on 'em."

"All food for worms; all lying in the howling wilderness, where they'll stop till kingdom come. What's the use of worrying? Hand over that bag of gold, Garstang, an' let's have a look. I've got an awful weakness for nuggets."

A blanket was spread on the floor of the cavern, and upon this were heaped bank-notes and sovereigns and silver that glittered in the fire-light.

The four men gathered round, and the leader of the gang divided the money into four lots.

"Here's some of the gold." The shrill-voiced young man handed a small but heavy bag to Dolphin. "There's stacks more."

"One thing at a time, William," said the leader. "First, we'll divide the money, then the gold, which won't be so easy, as we've got no scales. Here, take your cash, and count it. I make it 157 7s. apiece."

From a heap of bundles which lay a few yards off he drew forward a tent-fly, and then he carried into the light of the fire a number of small but heavy bags, one by one, and placed them on the canvas.

"My lot's only 147 7s.," said a deep and husky voice.

"You must ha' made a mistake, Garstang," said Dolphin. "Count it again."

While the hulking, wry-faced robber bent to the task, the leader began to empty the contents of the bags upon the tent-fly.

Peering through the tracery of the Organ Gallery, Tresco looked down upon the scene with wonder and something akin to envy. There, on the white piece of folded canvas, he could see dull yellow heaps, which, even in the uncertain light of the fire, he recognised as gold.

At first, half-stunned by the presence of the strangers, he was at a loss to determine their character, but from their conversation and the display of such ill-gotten riches, he quickly grasped the fact that they were greater criminals than himself. He saw their firearms lying about; he heard their disjointed talk, interlarded with hilarious oaths; he saw them stooping over the heaps of gold, and to his astonished senses it was plain that a robbery on a gigantic scale had been committed.

On one side of the fire the wet and steaming garments of the murderers were hung on convenient stalagmites to dry; upon the other side of the red blaze the four men, dressed in strange motley, gleaned from their "swags," wrangled over the division of the plunder.

"There's only a hundred-an'-forty-seven quid in my lot, I tell yer!"

Garstang's rasping voice could be plainly heard above the others. "Count it yerself."

"Count it, Dolly, an' shut his crooked mouth."

"I'll take his word for it," said the leader. "We can make it good to you, Garstang, when we get to town and sell some gold. Now listen, all of you. I'm going to divide the biggest haul we've ever made, or are likely to make."

"Listen, blokes," interrupted Sweet William, with an oath. "Give the boss your attention, _if_ you please."

Tresco glued his eye tighter to the aperture through which he peered.

There lay the dull, yellow gold--if only he could but scare the robbers away, the prize would be his own. He rose on one knee to get a better view, but as he did so his toe dislodged a loose piece of stone, which tumbled noisily down the gallery steps, the sound of its falling re-echoing through the s.p.a.cious cavern.

In a moment the robbers were thrown into a state of perturbation.

Seizing their arms, they glanced wildly around, and stood on their defence.

But all was hushed and still.

"Go forward, Garstang, and search the cave," ordered the leader in a voice of authority.

With a firebrand in one hand and a revolver in the other, the big, burly man crept forward; his mates alert to fire over him at any object he might discover. His search was haphazard, and his feet were naturally uncertain among the debris which had acc.u.mulated on the floor of the cavern.

Skirting the grotto's edge, he examined the inky shadows that lay behind pillar and projection, till he came to the stairs which led to the Organ Gallery.

Tresco, filled with an unspeakable dread, contemplated a retreat down the pa.s.sage he had lately explored, where he might be driven by the murderers over the abyssmal depth which he had failed to fathom, when suddenly the man with the torch tripped, fell, and the flame of his firebrand disappeared in a shower of sparks. With an oath the prostrate man gathered up his bruised limbs, and by the aid of the flickering fire-light he groped his way back to his fellows, but not before he had placed his ear to the damp floor and had listened for the sound of intruders.

"There's n.o.body," he said, when he reached his mates. "The row was only a blanky spike that fell from the roof an' broke itself. The ground's covered with 'em."

"Come on, then," said Sweet William; "let's finish our business."

They gathered again round the treasure.

"You see, I have arranged it in two heaps," said Dolphin--"nuggets in one, gold-dust in the other. I propose to measure out the dust first."

Each man had provided himself with one of the leather bags which had originally held the gold, and their leader filled a pint pannikin with gold-dust. "That's one," he said, lifting it heavily. "That's for you, old crooked chops." And he emptied the measure into Garstang's bag.

"Two." He emptied a pannikinful of gold into Carnac's bag.

"Three." Sweet William received a like measure.

"Four." Dolphin helped himself.

"That makes four pints of gold," he said. "What d'you say, mates, will she go round another turn?"

"No," said Carnac, "try a half-pint all round."

Dolphin fetched a smaller pannikin from the swags, and the division of the gold continued.

To share the nuggets equally was a difficult matter, and a good deal of wrangling took place in consequence. This, however, was quieted by the simple expedient of tossing a coin for disputed pieces of gold. The biggest nuggets being thus disposed of, the smaller ones were measured in the half-pint pot, till at length the envious eyes of the goldsmith saw the last measureful disappear into its owner's bag.

This exceedingly delicate matter being settled, the bushrangers sat round the fire, drank tea which they brewed in a black "billy,"

lit their pipes, and--as is invariably the case with a gang of thieves--enacted again the awful drama in which they had lately played their horrible parts.

Shivering on the damp floor of the dripping gallery, Tresco strained his ears to hear every diabolical detail of the conversation.

"Garstang, old man, Dolly's right; you'd better see to that shirt of yours. It looks as if you'd killed a pig in it."