The next day Cuthbert set to work with a better heart.  It was not difficult to find the sort of nook he wanted high up in the branches of a great sycamore.  The oaks were hardly thick enough yet to conceal him, and the foliage of the elm was somewhat scanty still, for all that the season was forward.  But by good hap there chanced to be, amongst the tall trees that fringed the round of sward, a noble sycamore in full leaf and very thick; and by skillful contrivance, and with the help of his tools, Cuthbert quickly built himself up there a small but secure and commodious platform, upon which he could perch himself at ease and watch the whole of the dell.  Even if he fell asleep, he was in no danger of falling; and if he could obtain the needful supplies of food, he could keep watch there unseen for an indefinite time.  He had plenty of provision so far, for he had been supplied with dry and salted provisions enough to last a week.  These he took up to his nest, and also his tools, which he resolved to keep beside him for safety; and having spent the best part of the day in this labour of ingenuity and patience, and having then quenched his thirst by long draughts of clear cold water, he ascended to his perch with an armful of dried bracken—­the eighth such load he had carried up—­and as he arranged his riding cloak upon the soft and fragrant cushion thus prepared, he said to himself with a smile that he could afford to be patient now, for he had a commodious castle all his own, and could await with patience the advance of the foe.

His patience was not, however, destined to be very sorely taxed.  He had fallen into a light sleep, and was dreaming of a hand-to-hand struggle with Long Robin, when some unwonted sound smote upon his ears, and he started up all alert on the instant.

He knew that sound; he had heard it before.  It was the wild, unearthly noise made by Robin to increase the fear of this dell in the hearts of any chance wayfarers who might haply be within hearing.  In a few more seconds Cuthbert, peering down from his leafy canopy, saw the tall form thrusting itself through the underwood; and Robin, with a loud laugh, threw himself upon the low wall of the pixies’ well.

He was talking and muttering to himself, but Cuthbert could not catch the words.  He seemed in a merry mood, for he laughed aloud once or twice, and drank of the well and laughed again.  Once Cuthbert thought he caught the words “treasure” and “safe,” but of that he could not be certain; and it was not easy to see how Robin could know this, seeing he had not stirred three paces from the well.

And then a sudden flash came into Cuthbert’s soul like one of inspiration.  Suppose the treasure was in the well itself?  What more likely?  Would not that be the safest place of all?  For the precious metals would not hurt through contact with the water; and had he not heard that the waters of this well possessed peculiar properties for preserving anything thrown into them?