The Jew at length began to weary of pumping air to me, and I of diving and delving, so we resolved to take a few days’ rest, and decide what further steps we should take in our search. The river was about forty yards wide, and although I had sunk about a dozen pits in the bed of the stream, I had discovered absolutely nothing. I thought the matter carefully over each day, but could only come to the conclusion that we were either searching in the wrong place, or that the treasure had long since been washed away and lost. Still, I could not imagine how even the swiftest torrent could affect or move anything buried beneath the river-bed at a depth of four or five feet. Then it struck me that earthquakes were not unknown in the region, and a shock might have caused an upheaval of the river-bed, by which the treasure might have been exposed and washed away centuries ago by some unusually heavy flood. If this had happened, was it not also probable that the stumps of the two towers would have been rent and cracked in many places? Certainly it was. I therefore examined the ruined towers, but their foundations were perfect, save for a few superficial fractures. I thereupon concluded that my earthquake theory was not tenable. I next examined the banks on each side of the river, especially the portion immediately _between the towers and the water_, and found that on one side, the side farthest from our hut or cottage, solid rock formed the principal part of the bank. From the tower on that bank to the brink of the water was a distance of just fifty feet; but the tower on our side of the river stood within ten feet of the water, and the foundation stood upon an ordinary layer of earth, with an under stratum of gravel similar to the bed of the river. My old friend and I could see nothing in this to assist us in any way; but when I retired to rest that night I could not help asking myself the question, “Why does one tower stand fifty feet from the water and the other only ten?” Was it not probable that whoever built the towers would erect them at equal distances from the river? And again--If one tower were required for some reason to be nearer the water than the other, would it not be the one which was built upon the solid rock? Over these questions I pondered and worried half through the night, while my old comrade snored away as peacefully and regularly as he had done any time during the past nineteen centuries. Before I joined my companion in a nasal duet I came to the following conclusions:-- 1. Probably centuries ago the river had been much narrower. 2. A river does not keep its exact course for ever: many things may cause it to change its course. 3. This river had not diverged much from its original course, as proved by the towers; but if it had diverged at all it was towards the eastern tower (cottage side).