Evidently this secret way dated not from the Portuguese
period, but from that of the Phoenicians or other ancients, to whose
treasure-chamber it was the approach, opening as it did from their
holy of holies, to which none were admitted save the head priests. The
passage, which was about seven feet high by four wide, had been hewn out
of the live rock of the mountain, for thousands of little marks left by
the workmen's chisels were still discernible upon its walls. So it was
with the stair, that had been but little used, and remained fresh as the
day when it was finished.
Down the steps, candle in hand, flitted Benita, counting them as she
went. The thirtieth brought her to a landing. Here it was that she saw
the first traces of that treasure which they had suffered so much to
find. Something glittered at her feet. She picked it up. It was a little
bar of gold weighing two or three ounces that doubtless had been dropped
there. Throwing it down again she looked in front of her, and to her
dismay saw a door of wood with iron bolts. But the bolts had never been
shot, and when she pulled at it the door creaked upon its rusty hinges
and opened. She was on the threshold of the treasure-chamber!
It was square and of the size of a small room, packed on either side
almost to the low, vaulted roof with small bags of raw hide, carelessly
arranged.
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