He had dug the precious lump of ore from its watery bed, and he had fallen upon his knees in the clay and dirt to offer up a thanksgiving to that Eternal Being who alone can give or withhold all blessings. The man called Brown clasped his hands and lifted his eyes to Heaven, "Oh, merciful Providence!" he cried, "we have waited Thy good pleasure, hopefully, for we knew Thy unfailing justice. "It has pleased Thee to smile upon us, and the innocent may now be restored to the happiness of which guilt and chicanery have deprived them." The three men worked till the moon rose high above their heads. They had struck upon a vein of gold, and their labors were amply rewarded. They returned home laden with the dull yellow metal, which is the master key of all earthly power, the magic influence which can make all men slaves. They returned the next day to the same spot, and worked again, and continued to do so till they were rich beyond their wildest hopes. Then they packed their wealth in such a manner as to escape suspicion from any unscrupulous travelers they might encounter, and still followed by their faithful follower, Sambo, set out for San Francisco. "When we once more set foot in the United States," said Brown, as they turned their backs on the dilapidated log-hut, "I will tell you my past history, the secret of my life, and the purpose I have to achieve in the future. In the meantime let us remain as we have been before, ignorant of all concerning each other, save that we are both honest men who trust in Providence. Shall it be so?" "Yes," answered Smith; "friend, brother, it shall be as you say. Heaven shield those we go to save." "And Heaven help those we go to punish." "I say, Massa Smith, Massa Brown, Nigger Sambo is a big old fool; nebber say Friday bery unlucky day again." CHAPTER XXI. THE ABDUCTION. Let us return to New Orleans and to the Villa Moraquitos. An hour after Augustus Horton left the boudoir of Camillia, the Spanish heiress and her companion Pauline Corsi were seated, side by side, in a deep recess of a window, looking out upon the shining waters of the Mississippi. "So you have rejected him, Camillia?" said Pauline. "Rejected him!" repeated the Spanish girl, contemptuously, "Could you ever dream that I should do otherwise?" "And yet Augustus Horton is rich, young, handsome, distinguished--" "He may be all that," interrupted Camillia. "Yet I have no feeling for him but indifference--nay, contempt." "Shall I tell you the secret of that indifference?" said Pauline, with a smile. "If you please," answered Camillia, carelessly. "The secret is your love for another. Ay, that start and blush would betray you had naught else already done so. My foolish Camillia, did you think to conceal the truth from one who had known you from childhood? On the day of Paul Lisimon's apprehension I told him that I had long known all."