There was scarcely a dry eye among all these, as the strong man broke down, and bowing his head, mingled his tears with those of his daughter. It was a moment of heart-crushing agony. Lottie, who was completely exhausted, swooned, and was borne to the nearest tent by sympathizing friends. Mr. Mitchell, nerving himself to the task, completed the service, then stood by in silence while the dead was being hidden forever from mortal view. Then, in a low but steady voice, he spoke: "I thank you, friends, for your kindness. I will not soon forget it. But now go and try to sleep. We can afford to lose no more time. To-morrow day-dawn must see us once more upon the road. Go--leave me alone here for a minute." "Come with me, Wythe, and you too, Tyrrel," muttered Paley Duplin. "There's something I'd like to talk over with you to-night." "Is it about that piece--" "Yes--but hist!" and Duplin glanced apprehensively around him. "We three are enough. I don't care for more in the secret--much less _that_ man," and he nodded to where Nate Upshur stood leaning against a tree-trunk, close at hand. "Come, then; the knoll out yonder is the best place. No one could get within ear-shot of us, even should they try, without being seen." "What's up, boys?" muttered Jack Tyrrel, a young rattle-brained Ohioan. "Wait--you'll know soon enough." Gaining the knoll spoken of, the three friends crouched down amid the tall, rank grass and lighted their pipes. Duplin was the first to break the silence. "You looked at what I showed you, Burr?" "Yes; it's _gold_. Where did you get it, Paley?" "Gold--le's see," eagerly interrupted Tyrrel. "Wait--the moon does not shine clear enough to show it now. Now, then, I want you to pay particular attention to what I say. Weigh it well in your minds, for on this night the whole course of our future lives may depend. That is, on how you decide. You understand?" "Yes--that is, I would if I _did_; but I _don't_," muttered Jack, lugubriously. "Well, go on, anyhow." "You know what we are going to California after?" "Sure! After gold; the shining dust--the great blazing nuggets, big as a water-bucket. Those are what we're after of course." "You'd know it when you found one, I suppose, Jack?" and Duplin smiled slightly. "Bah! _any_ fool knows gold." "Well, I do. But, as I was about to say, I don't think there is any need of our going clear to California for what we can get closer." "What--Duplin, what do you mean?" demanded Wythe, gazing keenly into his comrade's face. "No, Burr; I'm an honest man, if not a good one. You need not fear any thing of _that_ sort. But I'll tell you all now, on one condition. Promise me faithfully that neither one of you will ever breathe a word of my secret until after one year has passed. This, I mean, provided you refuse to accept my proposal, for if you _do_ accept it, I know you'll keep silent. How is it--do you agree?" "I reckon we can, Burr?"