The boys came up to Captain Corbet, and watched him quietly, yet very curiously. As for the illustrious captain, he felt to the utmost the importance of the occasion. He was now no longer the captain of a gallant bark. He had become transformed into a species of necromancer. Instead of the familiar tiller, he held in his hand the rod of the magician. All the solemnity of such a position was expressed in his venerable features. After throwing a benignant smile upon the boys, his eyes reverted to the rod, which was still balanced on his finger, and he walked about, with a slow and solemn pace, to different parts of the cellar. First he went around the sides, stopping at every third step, and looking solemnly at the rod. But the rod preserved its balance, and made no deflection whatever towards any place. “Go down to the middle, captain,” said Bart, who, in common with the other boys, had been watching these mysterious proceedings with intense curiosity. Captain Corbet shook his head solemnly, and lifted up his unoccupied hand with a warning gesture. “H-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-h!” said Tom; “don’t interrupt him, Bart.” Captain Corbet moved slowly about a little longer, and then descended to the middle of the cavity. Here he planted himself, and his face assumed, if possible, an expression of still profounder solemnity. And now a strange sight appeared. The rod began to move! Slowly and gradually one end of it lowered, so slowly, indeed, that at first it was not noticed; but at last they all saw it plainly, for it went down lower, yet in that gradual fashion; and the boys, as they looked, became almost breathless in suspense. They drew nearer, they crowded up closer to Captain Corbet, and watched that rod as though all their future lives depended upon the vibration of that slender and rather dirty stick. Not a word was spoken. Lower and lower went the rod. It trembled on its balance! It quivered on Cap tain Corbet’s forefinger, as the lower end went down and dragged the rod out of its even poise. It slipped, and then--it fell. It fell, down upon the very middle of the cellar, and lay there, marking that spot, which to the minds of the boys seemed now, beyond the possibility of a doubt, to be the place where lay the pot of gold. “Thar,” said Captain Corbet, now breaking the silence. “Thar. You see with your own eyes how it pints. That thar is the actool indyvidool place; an this here’s the dozenth time it’s done it with me. O! it’s thar. I knowed it.” As the rod fell, a thrill of tremendous excitement had passed through the hearts of the boys, and their belief in its mystic properties was so strong, that it did not need any assurances from Captain Corbet to confirm it. Yes, beyond a doubt, there it was, just beneath, a short distance down--the wonderful, the mysterious, the alluring pot of gold. At last the silence was broken by Tom. “Well, boys,” said he, “what are we going to do about it?”