They now took counsel, when Bartholomew suggested that, as numbers were often used symbolically, they must look elsewhere for a solution. It might be the exact number of trees lying between the great sycamore and the place signified. "And there they be," said the seer, pointing to a goodly row of small twigs newly planted. "Now count them northerly, beginning as at first." This being done, the Doctor was greatly comforted on finding himself fairly soused up to the knees in a deep ditch or drain, from whence all appearance of the sycamore was effectually excluded. "Now," said the adept, still standing as before, "the mystical number, which is three, added to the most excellent number, which I take to be three times three, or the number enfolding itself, will make twelve; but there be no trees eastward, or towards the rising sun." "Then try the steps once more," said Bartholomew, "and take heed they are of the right length,--proper easy-going steps. Stay, I will count them myself." Leaving his companion in the ditch, the seer counted forth his number with due care, halting at the last step. "Now stand in my place, turn half-round, and gather from thy right foot." Dee, having cleared the bog, placed himself in the required position. Stooping down, he groped diligently by his right foot, but was aware of nothing but a crabbed stump, that resisted every attempt they could use for its dislodgment. "Bring the mattock," said the Doctor, cautiously uncovering the light. But though Bartholomew tugged with great energy, the Doctor helping, it was to little purpose, for the stump was immovable. "We had best try the probe." Saying this, the warder drew forth an instrument in shape something like unto a large auger. He could by this means easily ascertain if anything hard were below, or any symptons of concealed treasure. As they were thus engaged a hollow voice, to their terrified apprehensions issuing from the ground, cried out-- "Hold!" The treasure-hunters came to a full pause. The wind and rain at the same time beat so heavily they could not ascertain the sequel to this injunction. "'Tis Nargal, the spirit who guards hidden treasures," said Dee: "we can approach him only by prayers and fumigations." "Then must we return?" said Bartholomew, apparently unwilling to desist. "Hark!" said the Doctor, listening. They heard a moan, as that of some one in great pain. Presently a faint shriek stole through a pause in the blast. "'Tis like the groan of a mandrake," he continued: "they do ever lament and bewail thus when gathered. I doubt not but this tree is of that accursed nature." Again the voice was articulate. "To-morrow thou mayest return at this hour; but I will not yield my treasure save thou bring me gold!" "Who art thou?" "I am the guardian of the treasure; and "Gold I have. Bring gold with thee; Or thou shalt get no gold from me." "What is thy demand?" inquired Dee, in a hollow voice, like that of an exorcist.