give you instructions how to find a gold mine of great value which is hidden in the rock containing the cave.  You remember the sign on the piece of tin which we could not understand.  The figure 32 denotes the utmost depth of the excavation, and the 1 signifies that one foot below the surface, on reaching the face of the rock, there is a rich vein of gold.  The hollow on the other side of the cliff became filled with anhydrate gas, and this stopped the operations of the Chinese, who evidently knew of the existence of the mine.  This is all the information the experts employed by Sir Arthur Deane will need.  The facts are unquestionable.

“Assuming that I am alive, we will, of course, be co-partners in the mine.  If I am dead, I wish one-sixth share to be given to my uncle, William Anstruther, Crossthwaite Manor, Northallerton, Yorkshire, as a recompense for his kindness to me during my early life.  The remainder is to be yours absolutely.

    “ROBERT ANSTRUTHER.”

He read this remarkable document twice through to make sure that it exactly recorded his sentiments.  He even smiled sarcastically at the endowment of the uncle who disinherited him.  Then, satisfied with the perusal, he tore out the two leaves covered by the letter and began to devise a means of protecting it securely whilst in Iris’s possession.

At that moment he looked up and saw her coming towards him across the beach, brightly flushed after her bath, walking like a nymph clothed in tattered garments.  Perceiving that he was watching her, she waved her hand and instinctively quickened her pace.  Even now, when they were thrown together by the exigencies of each hour, she disliked to be long separated from him.

Instantly the scales fell from his mental vision.  What!  Distrust Iris!  Imagine for one second that riches or poverty, good repute or ill, would affect that loyal heart when its virginal font was filled with the love that once in her life comes to every true woman!  Perish the thought!  What evil spirit had power to so blind his perception of all that was strong and beautiful in her character.  Brave, uncomplaining Iris!  Iris of the crystal soul!  Iris, whose innocence and candor were mirrored in her blue eyes and breathed through her dear lips!  Here was Othello acting as his own tempter, with not an Iago within a thousand miles.

Laughing at his fantastic folly, Jenks tore the letter into little pieces.  It might have been wiser to throw the sheets into the embers of the fire close at hand, but for the nonce he was overpowered by the great awakening that had come to him, and he unconsciously murmured the musical lines of Tennyson’s “Maud”: 

  “She is coming, my own, my sweet;
      Were it ever so airy a tread. 
  My heart would hear her and beat
      Were it earth in an earthy bed;
  My dust would hear her and beat,
      Had I lain for a century dead,
  Would start and tremble under her feet,
      And blossom in purple and red.”