It was evidently too late
to attempt anything farther at present; and, indeed, Wolfert had come
unprepared with implements to prosecute his researches. Satisfied,
therefore, with having ascertained the place, he took note of all its
landmarks, that he might recognize it again, and set out on his return
homeward, resolved to prosecute this golden enterprise without delay.
The leading anxiety which had hitherto absorbed every feeling being now
in some measure appeased, fancy began to wander, and to conjure up a
thousand shapes and chimeras as he returned through this haunted
region. Pirates hanging in chains seemed to swing on every tree, and he
almost expected to see some Spanish Don, with his throat cut from ear
to ear, rising slowly out of the ground, and shaking the ghost of a
money-bag.
Their way back lay through the desolate garden, and Wolfert's nerves
had arrived at so sensitive a state that the flitting of a bird, the
rustling of a leaf, or the falling of a nut was enough to startle him.
As they entered the confines of the garden, they caught sight of a
figure at a distance advancing slowly up one of the walks and bending
under the weight of a burthen. They paused and regarded him
attentively. He wore what appeared to be a woollen cap, and still more
alarming, of a most sanguinary red. The figure moved slowly on,
ascended the bank, and stopped at the very door of the sepulchral
vault. Just before entering he looked around.
Pages:
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413