Black Bartlemys Treasure

"Lord!" says I gloomily. "Here have I found you all these goodly things, not to mention chair and table, thinking to please you and instead--"

"I know, Martin, forgive me, but I love not the place nor anything in it. I am very foolish belike, but so it is." And here she must needs shiver. "As to these things, the bed, the chair and table and the shelves yonder, why you can contrive better in time, Martin; and by your thought and labour they will be doubly ours, made by you for our two selves and used by none but us."

"True," says I, greatly mollified, "but this pot now, I can never make you so brave a pot as this."

"Why, very well, Martin," says she smiling at my earnestness, "bring it and let us begone." So I reached down the pot and espied therein a long-barrelled pistol; whipping it out, I blew off the dust and saw 'twas primed and loaded and with flint in place albeit very rusty. I was yet staring at this when my lady gives a little soft cry of pleasure and comes to me with somewhat hidden behind her.

"Martin," says she, "'tis a good place after all, for see--see what it hath given you!" and she shewed me that which I had yawned for so bitterly, viz. a good, stout saw. Tossing aside the pistol, I took it eagerly enough, and, though it was rusty, a very serviceable tool I found it to be.

"Ha, comrade!" says I, "Now shall you have a chair with arms, a cupboard, and a bed fit to lie on. Here is all the furniture you may want!"

"And now," says she, "let us begone, if you would have your supper, Martin." So I followed her through the little tunnel and, having lowered her on to the table, gave her the pot and then (albeit she was mighty unwilling) turned back, minded to bring away the firelock and pistol and any such odds and ends as might serve me.

Reaching the cave, I heard again the dismal groans and wailing, but much louder than before, and coming to the door, saw it opened on a steep declivity of rock wherein were rough steps or rather notches that yet gave good foothold; so I began to descend this narrow way, my candle before me, and taking vast heed to my feet, but as I got lower the rock grew moist and slimy so that I was half-minded to turn back; but having come this far, determined to see where it might bring me, for now, from the glooms below, I could hear the soft lapping of water. Then all at once I stopped and stood shivering (as well I might), for immediately beneath me I saw a narrow ledge of rock and beyond this a pit, black and noisome, and full of sluggish water.