As soon as they had found a place for the box, they left, and, after being gone some time, returned with another, corresponding in size with the first, but apparently lighter and less firmly secured. As they placed it upon the floor the spring (for there were few locks in those days) flew open, revealing rich dark silks, with heavy gold lace trimmings, small wrought cases of ebony or ivory, and beautiful ornaments of all kinds. They appeared to be not in the least disconcerted, but closed the box again with a loud noise, just as Harris entered with a stranger clad in Spanish citizen’s dress. There was a striking contrast in their looks, as Harris raised the elegant bandit cap from his high, white brow, and passed his delicate fingers through the short, clustering curls, and the stranger flung his heavy slouched hat upon the floor beside him, and stroked his thick, black moustachios with his sun-browned hand. “We must arrange this matter as quick as practicable,” said Harris, in an undertone, apparently continuing their former conversation. “If you have any papers of consequence, I shall expect you to give them up. You can take a small tract of land somewhere near here, or when we go back to the continent you can return; but you will be obliged to keep it constantly in your mind that dead men tell no tales, and living ones are not allowed to; do you understand?” and the youthful leader of that strong band looked fearlessly upon the dark face beside him. A low mutter of dissatisfaction escaped the swarthy Spaniard as he said, “I want none of your bribes; I want my honest pay.” “Ah! and how much?” said Harris, carelessly. “Four thousand roubles, which will just pay my forfeiture, and let me back to my own country,” was the gloomy reply. A quick look of intelligent forethought passed over Harris’ face, but he only replied, calmly, “You shall have it;” then, turning from the warm fire, he commenced an animated conversation with Wallace concerning his position and its profits. “Where are your men?” suddenly exclaimed the stranger, rising from his seat, and drawing the heavy folds of his Spanish cloak more closely about his short figure. “They have gone up the river in the boat, and will soon return,” replied Harris. “Do you reside near here?” asked Wallace. Harris laughed. “Our traffic is such that it requires us to be constantly on the wing, and we have chosen this as our stopping place,” he answered. Wallace did not notice the reply; he was looking thoughtfully at the heavy chests, and wondering what they contained. Harris saw it; he knew that suspicion was worse than a knowledge; so carelessly continuing the conversation, he said, “We have a great deal of merchandise to transport, and such cases as these are very useful. This,” he said, pushing the spring to one of them, “contains clothing for my wife, Lady Morrillo, which is my native name.”