Matt: A Story of A CaravanBuchanan, Robert Williams
General
Matt: A Story of A Caravan
Buchanan, Robert Williams
Fiction
He crept closer and looked down, but could see nothing. He held his head
over the hole and listened; all he heard was a dull, hollow moaning,
like the sound of the sea. The light of the moon, however, enabled him
to perceive that the hole had been covered with a loose piece of wood,
or lid, about four feet square, and with an iron ringbolt in the
centre, which lid was now lying by the side of the opening, ready to
be replaced. A number of large pieces of stone, such as were strewn
everywhere about the sand-hills, lay piled close by.
He lay for some time waiting and listening. All at once, far behind him,
the light glimmered again. Quick as thought he rose and crept away, only
just in time; for he had no sooner regained the shelter of the rock, and
crouched there watching, than he saw the light re-emerge, accompanied
by a human head; a human body followed, and then he clearly discerned
William Jones-standing in the moonlight without the burthen he had
previously carried, and holding in his hand a lantern.
Setting the lantern down, William busied himself for several minutes,
and finally, having concluded the work on which he was engaged,
extinguished the light. Then, after glancing suspiciously round him on
every side, he walked rapidly down the sand-hill, and disappeared in the
direction of the sea.
Not until he distinctly heard the splash of oars, and saw the black
silhouette of the boat pass out from the shadow of the rock on to the
moonlit sea, did Brinkley again begin to stir; and even then he did
so very cautiously, lest his figure should be perceived against the
moonlight by the lynx-eyed rower.
Creeping on hands and knees, he again crawled to the mysterious spot,
and found, as he had indeed anticipated, that the hole was covered up,
and the wooden lid or trapdoor so carefully covered with stones and
loose sand as to be completely hidden.
His first impulse was to displace the _debris_, and at once to explore
the mysterious place; but reflecting that he was unprovided with lights
of any kind, and that the cavity below would most certainly be in
total darkness, he determined to postpone his visit of inspection until
daylight. By this time there was no sight or sound of the boat. Rising
to his feet, he mused. It was all very well to talk of returning
another time, but how was he to find the spot? The sea of sandy hillocks
stretched on every side, and he knew by experience how difficult it
was to distinguish one hillock from another. As to the cairns of loose
stones, such cairns were nearly as numerous as the hillocks themselves.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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