In a short time quite a large party were assembled around the ruins. Antonio directed them where to dig. The men pulled away the blackened timbers and brands which were lying over the spot, and began to dig into the ground. In a few minutes they struck something hard with the spade, and setting the spade down beneath it so as to pry it out, they found that it was indeed Mr. Kerber's box. The men gathered eagerly around to examine the box. Mr. Kerber shook it and found that the money was safe inside. He took out his key, but he could not get it into the key-hole, for the key-hole had got filled with earth. He turned the box down upon its side and knocked it upon something hard, and so got the earth out, and then he found that the key would go in. He unlocked the box, and to his great joy found that all was safe. Antonio would not make any explanation, except that he did not suppose that any thing else was buried there, and that consequently it would do no good to dig any more. He said, moreover, that he expected some of his friends would come from Franconia before night to see about his case, and so the justice gave him up to the care of the officer again, until his friends should come. The officer accordingly took his prisoner away again, and Mr. Kerber carried his money-box home. Mr. Keep arrived that day about noon. He immediately had an interview with Antonio. After some little general conversation, Antonio said that he would rather not make any explanations of the circumstances under which he was arrested at present, even to Mr. Keep, unless Mr. Keep requested it. "I tell you truly, sir," said he, "that I am entirely innocent: but I can not state what I know, without breaking a poor girl's heart who once saved my life, and I can not do it." Mr. Keep was silent a few minutes when Antonio said this. He recollected Rodolphus and Ellen his sister, and recalled to mind the story of Ellen and the snow-shoes, which he had heard at the time. He immediately understood the whole case. "I am not surprised that you feel as you do," said he, "but when a crime is committed and we are called upon to testify as a witness, we are bound to state what we know, without regard to our private feelings." "Yes, sir," said Antonio, "but I am not called upon as a witness. I am charged with committing the crime myself, and the justice said that I was at liberty to answer or not, as I chose." Mr. Keep was silent for a moment. He seemed to be reflecting upon what Rodolphus had said. "By taking the course that you propose," he added, at length, "you run a great risk of being condemned yourself for the crime." "Why, no, sir," said Antonio; "I can't be condemned unless they _prove_ that I did it; and as I really did not do it, I don't think that they can prove that I did." Mr. Keep smiled.