A ray of light, streaming through a cross-formed loop-hole, drew them towards it; and on looking in, they beheld the assembled conclave of the worthies they were in search of, but found them more numerous than Lazaro Gomez had given them to believe. In the crypt, or lower vaults of the chapel, stood upwards of twenty—perhaps thirty, black-browed and swarthy desperadoes, clustered around the marble pedestal of a tomb, upon which were displayed a great quantity of coin, jewelry, and various articles of value, all glittering in the streaming blaze of a huge oil lamp placed amid them. Most of the fellows were attired in embroidered jackets, adorned with rich military lace torn from the uniforms of the dead, laced hose, and high-crowned sombreros adorned with feathers, or long cloth head-dresses resembling a night-cap. Some, however, were in absolute rags; none appeared to have been shaven for a month at least, and had their ferocious faces covered with masses of black glossy hair,—probably as a disguise, to be removed as occasion required. All carried pistols and poniards in their sashes or waist-belts, and most of them were armed with military carbines, musquets, and accoutrements, French and English, thousands of which were in these days to be found on every battle-field, and to be had for the trouble of taking them away. Trunks, portmanteaus, mails, and innumerable articles of plunder lay piled in various corners. Fastened by strong cords to the pillars which supported the groined roof of the crypt, appeared five or six fierce Spanish mastiff dogs, animals of a reddish colour generally, larger and stronger than British greyhounds. They seemed aware of the approach of strangers: every moment they made the hollow vaults ring with their hoarse yells, while they rolled about their fierce red eyes, and shook the snow-white foam from their jet-black muzzles as they strained and strove, almost strangling themselves in the attempt, to snap the cords which bound them to the stone columns. "Senor, we must retire, if it please you," whispered Pedro; "it would be worse than Moorish rashness if three of us were to encounter thirty such devils. And then the dogs—" "I fear we must abandon the attempt," replied the officer in a voice of stern regret. "Discretion is the better part of valour, and Narvaez and I may meet again; but now—" "It is just a temptin’ o’ Providence, sir," said Evan, "to bide here, wi’ sic a nest o’ born deils below us. What an awfu’ looking gallows rogue the chield is that counts oot the siller!" The light fell fully upon the robber’s face as Evan spoke.