Here a violent of sneezing, which the mendicant was unable to suppress, and which could not be considered by any means as the dying fall of an echo, accompanied by a grunting half-smothered cough, confounded the two treasure-seekers. “Lord have mercy on us!” said the Baronet. “Alle guten Geistern loben den Herrn!” ejaculated the terrified adept. “I was begun to think,” he continued, after a moment’s silence, “that this would be de bestermost done in de day-light--we was bestermost to go away just now.” “You juggling villain!” said the Baronet, in whom these expressions awakened a suspicion that overcame his terrors, connected as it was with the sense of desperation arising from the apprehension of impending ruin--“you juggling mountebank! this is some legerdemain trick of yours to get off from the performance of your promise, as you have so often done before. But, before Heaven! I will this night know what I have trusted to when I suffered you to fool me on to my ruin! Go on, then--come fairy, come fiend, you shall show me that treasure, or confess yourself a knave and an impostor, or, by the faith of a desperate and ruined man, I’ll send you where you shall see spirits enough.” The treasure-finder, trembling between his terror for the supernatural beings by whom he supposed himself to be surrounded, and for his life, which seemed to be at the mercy of a desperate man, could only bring out, “Mine patron, this is not the allerbestmost usage. Consider, mine honoured sir, that de spirits”-- Here Edie, who began to enter into the humour of the scene, uttered an extraordinary howl, being an exaltation and a prolongation of the most deplorable whine in which he was accustomed to solicit charity. Dousterswivel flung himself on his knees--“Dear Sir Arthurs, let us go, or let me go!” “No, you cheating scoundrel!” said the knight, unsheathing the sword which he had brought for the purposes of the exorcism, “that shift shall not serve you--Monkbarns warned me long since of your juggling pranks--I will see this treasure before you leave this place, or I will have you confess yourself an impostor, or, by Heaven, I’ll run this sword through you, though all the spirits of the dead should rise around us!” “For de lofe of Heaven be patient, mine honoured patron, and you shall hafe all de treasure as I knows of--yes, you shall indeed--But do not speak about de spirits--it makes dem angry.”