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           Ononesideoftheroadalongframebuilding—thestore—wouldbeclosedandbarricadedfromendtoend;facingitanotherwhiteframehouse,stilllonger,andwithaverandah—thehospital—wouldhavelightsinthetwowindowsofDr.Monygham’squarters.Eventhedelicatefoliageofaclumpofpeppertreesdidnotstir,sobreathlesswouldbethedarknesswarmedbytheradiationoftheover-heatedrocks.DonPepewouldstandstillforamomentwiththetwomotionlessserenosbeforehim,and,abruptly,highuponthesheerfaceofthemountain,dottedwithsingletorches,likedropsoffirefallenfromthetwogreatblazingclustersoflightsabove,theoreshootswouldbegintorattle.Thegreatclattering,shufflingnoise,gatheringspeedandweight,wouldbecaughtupbythewallsofthegorge,andsentupontheplaininagrowlofthunder.ThepasaderoinRinconsworethatoncalmnights,bylisteningintently,hecouldcatchthesoundinhisdoorwayasofastorminthemountains.

           ToCharlesGould’sfancyitseemedthatthesoundmustreachtheuttermostlimitsoftheprovince.Ridingatnighttowardsthemine,itwouldmeethimattheedgeofalittlewoodjustbeyondRincon.Therewasnomistakingthegrowlingmutterofthemountainpouringitsstreamoftreasureunderthestamps;anditcametohisheartwiththepeculiarforceofaproclamationthunderedforthoverthelandandthemarvellousnessofanaccomplishedfactfulfillinganaudaciousdesire.