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XXXII.

At morn, with hot, o’erwatchful eyes,
I rose ere twilight fair,
And walked abroad with stealthy tread,
Suspicious of the air,
And jealous lest the brabbling stones
My footsteps should declare.

XXXIII.

I sought the place where my treasure slept;
The dews were on the ground,
Each silvery drop on the crinkled leaves
Lay, like a jewel, round.
No human foot had passed that way
Since the setting of the sun,
And the thought that weighed on ray heavy heart
Was a secret known to none.

XXXIV.

What should I do? ‘Twere hard to say!
I could not move my wealth;
I could not bruise it into lumps,
And carry it off by stealth.
I could not tell the men I scorned,
Till my inmost heart did ache,
How great a treasure I had found,
And ask them to partake;
To come with the crowbar and the pike
To lift my ponderous gold,
And help me for an equal share–
Fully and fairly told,
For I knew they’d break the holiest oath,
And murder me for gold.

XXXV.

I waked in fear–I slept in dread–
I was afraid of day.
Lest its heedless light to human eyes
My secret should hetray;
And when I visited the spot
I walked another way–
Miles about like a dodging fox,
Keen-eyed and strong of limb,
Lest men should follow and mark the place
Where slept mine idol grim;
And slay the worshipper at the shrine
For the sake of the saint below;
The fiendish saint–the Golden god–
My comforter–my foe!

XXXVI.

But mostly in the dull dark night,
Armed to the teeth, I prowled,
Stem as the wolves on the granite crags
That stared at me and howled.
I lost the fellowship of man,
My heart grew hard as stone;
Nay, harder far, and heavy as gold;–
I stood in the world alone.
And Reason quaffed a poison cup,
And staggered on her throne.

XXXVII.

One luckless morn, with axe and gun,
I wandered to my lair;
My lair and haunt–my resting-place,
And saw to my despair.
The marks of feet–the earth upturned,
My treasure lying bare.
I stood aghast–I looked around–
I listened for a breath;
There was a devil in mine eyes.
And my fingers clutched at Death.

XXXVIII.

The drops that thickened on my brow
Fell earthward like the rain,
As with eager haste, and angry dread,
I covered it up again,
With stones and clods, and a burning strength
Intangible by pain.

XXXIX.

There burst on the air a scornful laugh.
And a hand was laid on mine;
I started back as from a snake,
And saw ’twas Heseltine.
“So greedy, Aubrey! Nay, be just,
The treasure’s mine and thine;
I’ve watched thee in thy moody walks.
And seen thy ramble ends:
Too much for one, enough for two,
We’ll share it, and be friends.”

XL.

“Friend of a robber who dogs my path!”
I answered him in scorn;
I uttered words that stung his pride,
Too bitter to be borne.
Taunt followed taunt–he drove me mad–
He struck me on the face;
And quick as thought–but thoughtless all,
Except of the disgrace–
I raised the mallet in my hand
And fell’d him on the place.

XLI.

His forehead bled–he lay as dead–
I wiped his streaming cheek;
I would have given my heart’s last drop
If I could hear him speak.
I called him by the dearest names,
His senseless lips I kissed;
I sought for water; I prayed to Heaven;
I chafed his pulseless wrist,
And cursed, in my deep, deep agony,
The gold for which I’d slain
A life that all the gold in the world
Could ne’er bring back again.