It is one thing being possessed of a treasure and another knowing what
to do with it. Here was I with the fortune, as my uncle called it, of a
prince, found, as I had found it, and to which some people may say I had
no right, and I often thought so myself. But on the other hand I felt
that I could do more good with it than it would do left there in the bed
of that stream--so many relics of a superstition--of a pagan idolatry
carried on three hundred years ago. The traditions of its being hidden
there had of course been handed down, but it had never been seen since
it was buried at the time of the conquest, and all who had a right to it
had been dead for ages.
So I comforted myself that I was only the one who had brought it to
light, and that it was my duty to put it to as good a purpose as
possible, and that I meant to do.
Well, here I had the treasure; but the next thing was, should I be able
to keep it?
If the Indians could trace me and dared to come across the river all
this distance down and into the civilised region, I knew that my life
would not be safe, and that they would have the treasure back at any
cost.
But then it was not likely that the simple savages would venture after
me even if they could find out where I had come.
Then there were the Spaniards about us. If they knew of the wealth we
had in the ordinary house of which we had taken possession they would
either get it away by legal means, claiming it as belonging to one or
the other government, or else make a regular filibustering descent upon
us and secure it by violence, even taking our lives as well.
Secrecy, then, seemed to be the only thing possible; and after a good
deal of thinking and planning, my uncle, Tom, and I constructed a little
furnace in a corner of the house, after boarding up the window and
covering it with blankets as well. Here we purposed to melt down the
treasure into long ingots, which we hoped to mould in sand--little,
long, golden bars being the most convenient shape in which we could
carry our gold.
I knew even then that it was a great pity to destroy what were equally
valuable as curiosities as for their intrinsic worth as precious metal;
but any attempt to dispose of them would have meant confiscation, and
such a treasure was not to be introduced to the notice of strangers with
impunity.
My uncle joined with me in lamenting the difficulties of the case, and
that we should be under the necessity of melting the cups and plates
down; but he urged me to do it as soon as possible, and we soon set to
work, carrying on our metal fusing in secret by the help of a crucible
and a great deal of saltpetre, which soon helped to bring the heat to a
pitch where the gold would melt like so much lead, and then by the help
of a strong handle the pot was lifted out and its glowing contents
poured forth into the moulds.
The ingots we thus cast had to be filed and the rough projections taken
off, the dust and scraps being remelted down with the other portion.
It was a tremendous task, though. The plates we managed pretty easily,
but the discs had to be cut up first by means of a great hammer and a
cold chisel, and the progress we made upon some days was very small.
The cups, too, were very difficult to manage; and Tom and I used to work
exceedingly hard, hammering and breaking the gold into small pieces that
would go into the melting-pot. Sometimes our fingers were quite sore
with the hammering and filing.
Still we kept on making progress, nervous progress, lest people should
find out what we were about; and by slow degrees we added ingot to
ingot--little, bright, yellow bar after bar--to one heap, and bar after
bar of silver to another heap, which were kept buried under a stone in
the floor of one of the rooms.
Over and over again we hesitated before breaking up some
beautifully-worked cup, though without exception these had been battered
and flattened, perhaps three hundred years ago, for the convenience of
carriage and hiding from the Spaniards, who had gone west with such a
thirst for gold. Several of the best cups were almost flat, the tough,
soft metal having evidently been driven in with blows from stones.
We did not get through our task without alarms; for now and then some
kindly-disposed person would call, and then we were obliged to hurriedly
conceal our work, smothering the fire, and this perhaps when we were at
some particular part of our task. But there was no help for it, as we
were compelled to work by daylight for fear of the glow of our
furnace-fire taking attention if we attempted anything of the kind by
night.
That melting down was like a nightmare to me, and over and over again I
used to ask myself whether the gold were worth all this trouble. Slave,
slave, slave, till our fingers were sore; and now I would be blistering
my hands with a small-toothed saw which Tom had bought one day and
brought home in triumph for cutting through the gold, and next time
toiling away with a great file.
Yes, it seemed as if we were working ourselves to death for this bright
yellow metal; and several times over, without being led up to it by me,
Tom quite took my view.
"S'pose this here stuff's going to be very useful, Mas'r Harry," he
said.
"Useful, Tom?"
"Ay! I mean I hope it's going to be worth all this work and trouble.
My word, Mas'r Harry, soap-boiling's nothing to this!"
"Tired, Tom?" I said.
"Tired, Mas'r Harry? Not I! But I tell you what I am, and that's hot."
"Yes, it is hot work, Tom," I said.
"Ay, Mas'r Harry, that's just what it is, 'specially when you gets
ladling out the soup and pouring it into the moulds. Fine rich soup,
ain't it?" he said with a grin.
"The richest of the rich, Tom."
"Ah! it is, Mas'r Harry; but it is hot work, and no mistake, and it sets
me thinking a deal."
"Well, Tom, what of?" I asked, for we were waiting for the melting.
"'Bout setting up soap-boiling out here, Mas'r Harry," he said,
grinning.
"Well, what about it, Tom?"
"'Twouldn't do, Mas'r Harry," said Tom. "First of all, the work would
be a deal too hot; second of all, the trade wouldn't pay, 'cause the
people look as if they never washed. No, Mas'r Harry, I don't think the
folks here are fond of soap."
Two months of hard toil did we spend over that melting down. For first
of all, there was the preparation of the furnace; and a very hard task
that was, there being such difficulty in getting proper materials.
Stone seemed to go first into scales, and then into powder. The bricks
we obtained cracked; and it was not until my uncle had mixed up some
clay in a peculiar manner, and beaten it up into bricks of a big, rough
shape, that we managed to get on. These bricks we built up into the
furnace, and then slowly dried by leaving in a small fire; and this we
increased till it was hot enough to burn the rough bricks, which, as we
increased the fire to a furious pitch, seemed to fuse the whole together
into a solid mass.
Then we had our hiding-place to dig out; and all this work had to be
done in such a secret way that it used to make me think of Baron Trenck
in prison, so careful and watchful were we in all we did.
Industry mastered it all though at last; and, weary as Tom must have
been of his job, he began to feel at last that the gold was worth
working for.
"I usen't to think so at one time, Mas'r Harry," he said; "but since
I've been working away here, melting of myself away almost as fast as I
melted gold, it's seemed to me as if, when I get home, and Sally Smith
knows as I'm a gentleman with a large income of two pound a week, she
may be a bit more civil like to me."
"Very likely, Tom," I said smiling.
"That's just what I say, Mas'r Harry--very likely; that is, you know, if
there's anything more left of me than the ivory."
"Ivory, Tom?" I said, wondering what he meant.
"Yes, Mas'r Harry--the bones, you know. Don't you see, I mean if I
ain't melted all away."
Two months, I say, had it taken before the rich metal was all reduced to
neat little bars ready for packing up.
Then we had to discuss the question of the size and material of the
cases in which we were to carry home our treasure so as not to excite
suspicion.
"We must risk suspicion and inquiry too," said my uncle. "Our way now,
Harry, is to get the stuff packed up and go straight away."
"I should do it quite openly," said Lilla quietly, "and if inquiries are
made you can say that the chests in which it is packed contain gold. No
one can be suspicious then. The people will only think that you are
very rich, and be the more respectful."
"You are right, Lilla," said my uncle. "We can show our ingots--I mean
your ingots, Harry. No one can prove how you came by them."
The result was that we boldly ordered some little cases to be made of
the strongest South American oak, and corded together and bound firmly
with hoop-iron; and into these, bedding them neatly with the finest
sawdust, we packed the little shining bars.