In a lonely part of a large forest there dwelt four wise men of India
who owned a treasure consisting of gold, silver, and great jewels: like
all property it was a source of great anxiety to its owners, for they
always feared that it would be stolen from them. With that idea they
constantly watched it, counted it, and changed its hiding-place; burying
it sometimes under trees, or in a ruined well that stood not far
distant; at other times with them in the house.
For many long years they had kept it safely thus, so safely indeed that
gradually they grew a little less zealous in their guardianship: the
confidence born of long and unmolested peace made them somewhat
careless; and so in some inexplicable manner news of its existence
floated to the ears of a young man who dwelt in the town not so many
miles away, and he at once made up his mind that he would become
possessed of it. Being wise he only took counsel of himself, and bided
his time with much patience.
He made the acquaintance of the four recluses, and watched their
movements and studied their habits with much diligence. He was a
handsome, high-spirited youth, with manners that were frank and
engaging, and the old men liked to see him and talk to him, soon growing
to look forward to his visits.
Months passed, and he went to see them often. They conversed
unreservedly before him and trusted him as one of themselves.
As time passed and no opportunity of taking the treasure offered itself,
he began to be impatient, and was indeed almost reduced to despair when
he learnt, to his inexpressible pleasure, that they intended going on a
day's pilgrimage in the near future.
He laid his plans.
When the day came he rode to the forest on a pony, and, dismounting,
fastened it near by as was his custom, and went within. The garden, with
its moss-overgrown, decayed walls, was quite still save for the song of
the birds. The sun fell through the leaves of the trees and made
brilliant patches of light on the grass.
The rooms of the house were dark and cool and empty. There were the
broken remains of a meal and various things belonging to the absent
masters scattered about. The visitor looked round and about him
carefully, peering here and there, then, having quite satisfied himself
that only he and the feathered world shared the stillness, he smiled.
* * * * *
Some hours later the pilgrims returned home: they had been far and were
wearied; they rested for awhile, then ate their evening meal and
prepared to make ready for the night. As was customary with them they
went to look at the treasure where they had put it in an upper room, to
find to their unspeakable horror and dismay that it was gone. They
looked on one another in mute amazement and despair; they beat their
breast; there were no words to describe what they felt in that hour when
they bewailed its loss in a helpless, hopeless way.