“I pulled out the parchment again and read it through; then started to my feet with fresh energy.  I was just leaving the little lawn and returning down my path, when it struck me that the bush on my left hand was of a curious shape.  It seemed a mere tangled knot of creepers covered with large white blossom, and rose to about my own height.  Carelessly I thrust my stick into the mass, when its point jarred upon—­stone!

“Yes, stone!  In a moment my knife was out and I was down on hands and knees cutting and tearing at the tendrils.  Some of them were full three inches thick, but I slashed and tugged, with breath that came and went immoderately fast, with bleeding hands and thumping heart, until little by little the stone was bared and its outlines revealed themselves.

“But as they grew distinct and I saw what I had uncovered, I fell back in terror.  The stone was about five feet ten inches in height, and was roughly shaped to represent a human head and neck.  But the face it was that froze my heated blood in horror.  Never until I die shall I forget that hellish expression.  It was the smoothly-shaven face of a man of about fifty years of age, roughly carved after the fashion of many of the ruins on this mountain.  But whoever fashioned it, the artist must have been a fiend.  If ever malignant hate was expressed in form, it stood before me.  Even the blank pupils made the malevolence seem but the more undying.  Every feature, every line was horrible, every touch of the chisel had added a fresh grace of devilish spite.  It was simply Evil petrified.

“As this awful face, bared of the innocent creeper that for years had shrouded its ugliness from the light of day, confronted me, a feeling of such repulsion overcame me that for several minutes I could not touch it.  The neck was loosely set in a sort of socket fixed in the earth; this was all the monster’s pedestal.  I saw that it barely needed a man’s strength to send it toppling over.  Yet for a moment I could summon up none.  At length I put my hands to it and with an effort sent it crashing over amid the brushwood.

“The trough in which this colossal head had rested was about four feet in depth, and narrowed towards the bottom.  I put down my hand and drew out—­a human thigh-bone.  The touch of this would have turned me sick again, had not the statue’s face already surfeited me with horror.  As it was, I was nerved for any sight.  The passion of my discovery was upon me, and I tossed the mouldering bones out to right and left.

“But stay.  There seemed a great many in the trough.  Surely this was the third thigh-bone that I held now in my hand.  Yes, and below, close to the bottom of the trough, lay two skulls side by side.  There were two, then, buried here.  The parchment had only spoken of one.  But I had no time to consider about this.  What I sought now was the Secret, and as I took up the second skull I caught the gleam of metal underneath it.  I put in my hand and drew out a Buckle of Gold.