"And something stopping it." "Yes...." I looked more intently. The passage was sloping down to what I guessed must be the opening, though this was off the page. Beneath the passage was a short stairway leading to a tunnel which followed parallel beneath the passage above; and after this the rest was comparatively clear. But the puzzling part was how the stairway joined the passage. Was it from beneath or from the side? The precious fragment which held the secret was missing, and only a roughly rounded line, which might have been a hole or a boulder, faded off the sheet. I turned away blinking and rubbed my eyes, dazzled with the strain. "Sorry, daddy," I said, "I can't see. But I think...." "Yes, Tommy?" "I think there's a hole in the earth, and a big stone on top." "Ah," he said, "on top." There was a long pause, while he sat toying with his pencil. Then he turned to me again and said rather sadly, "You see, I thought it might have been Ebb-Tide Gate. But if the hole is in the floor...." "But," I said, "there is a hole in the floor where the gate drops down. It might be...." "No, Tommy," he smiled at me, "if there were it would be full of water. And see here." He pointed to the diagram which marked the low-water line, and the steps were clear. My father continued, "If the hole were in the wall, you see, and fairly high, the steps would still be dry. But," he added with a strange little smile, "there ain't no hole, Tommy." He began folding up the document, very carefully, pressing it down page by page, and smoothing out the creases. And as he turned the last page I saw in great black letters, at the very end, the words: MALEDICTUS SIT THESAURUS Now whether by chance I had met the words somewhere in my random studies, or whether the haunting memory of some old story of my father's lingered in my mind, I can't say; but the meaning was instantaneously flashed across my brain, and involuntarily I exclaimed, "Accursed be the treasure!" My father started, but smiling humorously said, "A little learning, Tommy ..." but left the quotation unfinished. "Tell me the story," I said eagerly. "Sometime, Tommy, sometime," he put me off. "Now," I pleaded. "But it's midnight, Tommy. And listen how the wind says 'Hush!' And see how black it is through the window. You'd dream." "I like to dream," I said. "Yes, Tommy, yes," he answered. "I'd like to dream your dreams. Golden sands, and a wide blue sea; and palms and reefs, and caverns, and long, white, racing waves. Eh, Tommy? But there are dreams that spring at you out of the dark and clutch at your throat and tangle you in a net, and your limbs are heavy and dead, and your lungs are bursting, but you can't utter a sound; and something laughs 'Ah!' and a hand goes over your face...." "Yes, yes," I said, as he paused. But all he answered was "Not to-night, Tommy; not to-night."