The scroll was produced, the yellow waxen taper lighted, and the Moor read the form of incantation. The earth trembled as before, and the pavement opened with a thundering sound, disclosing the narrow flight of steps. The alcalde, the alguazil, and the barber were struck aghast, and could not summon courage to descend. The Moor and the water-carrier entered the lower vault, and found the two Moors seated as before, silent and motionless. They removed two of the great jars, filled with golden coin and precious stones. The water-carrier bore them up one by one upon his shoulders, but though a strong-backed little man, and accustomed to carry burdens, he staggered beneath their weight, and found, when slung on each side of his donkey, they were as much as the animal could bear. “Let us be content for the present,” said the Moor; “here is as much treasure as we can carry off without being perceived, and enough to make us all wealthy to our heart’s desire.” “Is there more treasure remaining behind?” demanded the alcalde. “The greatest prize of all,” said the Moor, “a huge coffer bound with bands of steel, and filled with pearls and precious stones.” “Let us have up the coffer by all means,” cried the grasping alcalde. “I will descend for no more,” said the Moor, doggedly; “enough is enough for a reasonable man--more is superfluous.” “And I,” said the water-carrier, “will bring up no further burden to break the back of my poor donkey.” Finding commands, threats, and entreaties equally vain, the alcalde turned to his two adherents. “Aid me,” said he, “to bring up the coffer, and its contents shall be divided between us.” So saying, he descended the steps, followed with trembling reluctance by the alguazil and the barber. No sooner did the Moor behold them fairly earthed than he extinguished the yellow taper; the pavement closed with its usual crash, and the three worthies remained buried in its womb. He then hastened up the different flight of steps, nor stopped until in the open air. The little water-carrier followed him as fast as his short legs would permit. “What hast thou done?” cried Peregil, as soon as he could recover breath. “The alcalde and the other two are shut up in the vault.” “It is the will of Allah!” said the Moor, devoutly. “And will you not release them?” demanded the Gallego. “Allah forbid!” replied the Moor, smoothing his beard. “It is written in the book of fate that they shall remain enchanted until some future adventurer arrive to break the charm. The will of God be done!” so saying, he hurled the end of the waxen taper far among the gloomy thickets of the glen.