"Then I'll soon have both," replied Zed; "you sit down here on this stone, Phil, and I'll go and slive into the Talbot yard, and I'll warrant it I'll soon have a pick-axe and a shovel." And off Zed scampered as fast as his old heels, impelled by his heated head, could carry him. "Bring the dark lanthorn with you!" cried Phil, shouting after him as loudly as he dared to shout; and then, sitting down on the grass in lieu of the hard stone, began to think of the oddness and suddenness of Zed's resolution. "What a fool Zed always becomes when he gets a drop of rum!" thought Phil to himself; "and, confound it! I feel queerish, somehow, myself. I wish I had not drunk that tipler o'rum. It was very foolish of me, for I always tell Zed to stick to good old Sir John Barleycorn, and then no great harm can come on it. But what's the use of grumbling and growling at one's self when it's done? I'll e'en make the best on't, since it is so." And Phil was about to troll forth another merry ditty, when he remembered that it was near midnight, that it must be thereabouts pitch dark, and that he was among the ruins of Torksey Castle, where, according to a queer skin-freezing story he was wont to tell himself, the lady without the head was often seen to walk at midnight! So Phil, too muddled to remember that he could not have seen the headless lady if she had appeared, held his peace, and thought it was better to keep quiet in such a queer place and at such a queer time of night. Phil had not long to wait for the return of his eccentric companion. Zed soon was at Phil's side, and, grasping his hand, assured him they would soon be as rich as Jews with the buried gold. "'Don't say so till you're sure!'" again cried Phil: but Zed took no notice of it, and upheaving the pick-axe, without spending a moment in considering whereabouts he ought to begin, struck at the ground with all his might, assisted, not a little, at the first, by his invisible but potent friend, Dr. Alcohol. "Have you begun so soon, Zed?" asked Phil. "Ay, to be sure," replied Zed, "I'm in earnest, man, and mean to have this gold, depend on't." "I'faith, it seems as though you did," returned Phil, feeling disposed to roast his old friend, as they say; "do you find aught yet?" "Pooh!" answered Zed, "let me get another foot or so deeper, and then ask me." "Oh, I'm in no hurry," said Phil; "only I thought I might as well be knowing. But are you tired so soon, Zed?" "I'm only just resting a moment," replied Zed; but he was up, and was working away again with the pick-axe the next minute. Then he took the shovel and began to clear away the loose earth, so as to be able to see, by the light of the lanthorn, how deeply he had penetrated the ground. "Do you see aught yet?" asked Phil with a slight titter which he suppressed as well as he could.