"I am unable to answer your question, Maud," Clifford replied; but there was something in his manner that led the sharp-eyed couple before him to suspect he had detected some clue which had eluded them in their investigations of the mystery.

"Cliff, what the deuce was that old skull doing in the cask?" said Rob, innocently; but, seeing the look of amus.e.m.e.nt on his brother's face, he added: "Or I mean to ask, how came it there?"

"To answer your first question I shall have to remind you that a dead man's skull has a very limited field of action, confined princ.i.p.ally to the pastime of rolling over and rattling its teeth when touched; but how or why it was there, seems only known to the ill-natured ophidian which kept it such close company," Clifford replied, with his usual strain of jocular sarcasm.

"Oh dear!" said Maud, drearily, while drumming on the misty window-pane.

"It is very exasperating to be shut up in a house on such a day, where every closet is full of skeletons, and not dare to peep into one of them," she added.

"But Cliff has been peeping, and with wonderful luck, too," Rob observed, dryly.

"Oh, I am not the first fortune hunter who has found a skull or serpent where he had hoped to find gold!" Clifford replied, with perfect good nature.

"Oh, Clifford, I shudder to think of the danger you pa.s.sed through on that terrible night--all alone in that dismal place, fighting that venomous monster, with death in its fangs, while the gray-robed demon hovered near with its fiery eyes and blood-chilling scream," said Maud, tearfully, while winding her arm about her brother's neck.

"Now, dear, soft-hearted Maud, you must remember that the path of those who strive for pelf is thickly beset by demons and serpents, although they may wear the human guise and lurk in the shadow of friendship.

Many, many are the skeletons of dead hopes and buried dreams that start up as the graves of the past are disturbed," Clifford replied.

"But you shall never spend another night alone up at that ill-omened dwelling, Clifford; for Rob shall go with you hereafter," she said, while drying her tears.

"Well, but suppose I might choose some fair lady to grace my spectre-haunted home--that would answer as well?" he replied, gaily.

"Oh! that would be a capital plan indeed; but I shall insist on the right to choose her," his sister cried, with returning animation.

"Oh! you are growing very liberal, to say the least, Miss Maud. I guess you will have to be satisfied with second choice," said Cliff.

After talking awhile over the mystery which had woven such a tangled web about their home in the last few days, Maud exclaimed:--

"Robbie, dear, won't you go and ask father what name was engraved on the locket? Also learn all that is possible, for I am just dying of anxiety;" but as he began to smile with derision, she added, coaxingly: "Now do go, Rob, please; that's a man; father never refuses you anything."

"Catch me at it!" cried Rob, with a shrug. "I don't hanker much after the dry job of pumping the colonel," he added, winking at Clifford significantly.

"No, no, Maud, that would never do. Let us await the confidence of our parents, and try, in the meantime, to pick up what facts we can. Who knows," he added, "but we may stumble on to some great discovery?"

Little, indeed, did he suspect the great revelations which the day held in store for them, and that events were about to transpire which would change the tenor of their whole lives.

At Mrs. Warlow's entrance the conversation took on a less sombre hue, and when she told of the news confirming the great land-sale which was soon to be held at the land office--a fact which she had learned from the Estills--it was proposed to take a drive out over the country north-east, and find a section for Maud and Rob, which the colonel would buy for their benefit at the sale.

Accordingly, after dinner, as the weather had cleared, the Warlow family drove out and viewed a well-watered, rolling tract, equal in extent to the farms of the colonel and Clifford. After an hour spent thus, it was thought advisable to drive on westward and examine a country which, in their busy farm-life, had never been viewed, save at a distance.

On arriving at a point about three miles west of their home, they drove down into a narrow valley or glen, clothed with tall blue-stem and rank sunflowers, now beginning to unfold their golden blossoms. This jungle of vegetation was woven together by the slender, leafless tendrils of the love-vine, which threw a veil of coppery red over the brilliant green of the other vegetation.

While driving slowly through this almost impervious ma.s.s of vegetation, they discovered a winding but well-beaten trail or pathway, leading on down the valley, and which, out of pure curiosity, they followed until it disappeared in a thicket of plum-trees at the base of a low cliff of magnesian limestone.

As they paused at the scrubby grove, wondering what could have made the path, Clifford sprang out of the carriage, saying he would like to investigate the matter, and disappeared among the trees. He was gone so long that, after they had called him repeatedly, Rob was on the point of starting in search, when Clifford reappeared. As he sprang into the carriage their questioning was forestalled by his saying that the path was possibly made by wolves, and that he had been examining the cliff, but had not succeeded in finding their den.

He appeared so pale and agitated, however, that Maud regarded him suspiciously; and when the horses flew up the glen along the winding pathway and through tangled thickets of blue-stem and sunflowers, she managed to ask in a whisper:--

"What have you discovered, Cliff?"

"A clue to the old mystery--but wait," he whispered in reply; and in silence they drove rapidly back to the Warlow homestead.

As the boys were leading the horses into the barn, Maud called for them to a.s.sist her in nailing up some of the lattice which the wind had shaken down in her arbor; and when they joined her a few minutes later in the vine-clad bower, she cried in a low, eager tone:--

"Clifford--Clifford! what did you see in that thicket?"

"Yes, out with it--quick!" said Rob; "for I know by your looks that you saw something queer up there."

"The pathway," said Clifford, hurriedly, "plunged into the thicket of plums; then, after winding about in a mazy labyrinth, it led up to the base of a low cliff of limestone, and there ended so abruptly that I was puzzled to know what to make of it, but noticing that the heavy festoon of grapevines that hung down from the soil above, looked as if they had been disturbed, I hastily drew them aside. Imagine my surprise when a rough door was revealed, hung in the face of the cliff. Drawing it open, there was disclosed a low cell or cavern, which had been partly carved out of the soft magnesian limestone. Peering into the room, I became satisfied that it was empty of human occupants.

"The room was not more than a dozen feet square, the little furniture which it contained being dilapidated beyond description. As I stepped into the room to examine things more closely, the fact became very plain that some one had occupied it recently, for the mouldy couch still showed the imprint of a human form.

"Some broken utensils stood about on the hearth, where a fire-place had been hewn out of the soft rock. The ashes and charred wood, the bones of fish and birds, scattered about on the floor, confirmed the fact that it was used, in a desultory manner, as a habitation.

"I was turning to leave, thinking perhaps that I had invaded the private dwelling of some squatter, when my attention was arrested by seeing a vial half concealed in a cleft in the rocky wall. Inly wondering why any one should wish to conceal such a trifle, I drew it forth, rubbing the grime and dust from it as I did so.

"What was my surprise to see that there was a paper within. In eager haste I uncorked the bottle and drew out this doc.u.ment," said he, holding up with trembling hands a sheet that was discolored with age and blotted with mildew, but covered closely with writing, still faintly legible. "I had only time to glance at the startling t.i.tle when I heard your voices calling, so I closed the door, drew the vines carefully over the entrance, and joined you, feeling like one in a dream.

"Now let's hasten," he said, "and read this doc.u.ment, which will, I believe, unveil the mystery of Bruce and Ivarene." Then, unrolling the time-worn paper again, with bated breath and loudly beating heart, he read aloud as follows:--

SEPTEMBER 14, 1849,

"NEAR THE STONE CORRAL, ON THE SANTA FE TRAIL.

"This is written by Ivarene Walraven, late of the City of Mexico, who offers prayers that it may fall into hands of kindness, who will convey to my kinsman, Herr Von Brunn, of Vera Cruz--to him this missive, full of grief and misfortune.

"We were attacked by savages on the night of August 22d, our servants slain, our wealth all gone, and our kind and tender friend, Senor Warlow, murdered. Bruce, my n.o.ble husband, he did me wrap within the folds of a serape, and dashed away out on the dark prairie with me in his arms, far, far away from the noise of murder and savagery. He watched by my side in the tall gra.s.s all that day next come; for I was ill to death's gate.

"Then, near eventide, there came to us a hunter strange, who said he slay the bison-flesh for trailers by, and beg we go to his hidden cell in a cliffy rock. His evil eyes I much mistrust; but he seem friendly be, and food prepare for us when there we go. On morning rise my babe is born--a daughter sweet--and darling Bruce he tenderly nurses me while the hunter watches near the trail for wagons go by; but day by day nothing sees he; then Bruce he say, 'I shall go myself to-morrow day.' The hunter frown when this he say. That morning, as the hunter go, he say, with cunning smile: 'A flask of wine for senora and senor.' Then leaves he it and go away as at all time. When him had disappeared, I scent a strangeness in the flask, and Bruce poured out a larger part; then broke he the gla.s.sen flask upon the floor. When a cup he bring, and say: 'What is the scent of this wine he gave?' I perceive the deadly loco's odor there, and say it poison is; it drives them mad for evermore.

Bruce he frown, and meat and drink prepare; and when the hunter he return he say: 'The flask is broken all! give us wine some more.'

But the hunter rudely began the meat to eat, waiting not at all.

After him did partake in his rude way of the food he threw his coat by; then sat he strangely still awhile. Sprang he at length to his feet with loud shriek and cry, then rushed away into the night.

'Ah! the wine I put into his food is poison be,' Bruce he say while bar the door. In the hunter's coat we find a little book for writing some, and one leaf did have these letter writ:--

"'EAGLE BEAK,--Take all the braves to p.a.w.nee Rock, and there I will go soon. Several jugs of wine are ready for you to take along; but do not let them taste until there; I have put deadly loco in the wine, which will kill them all, or drive them mad; so there will be the less to share the cask of gold--'

"Then it was left unfinished, and another leaf had been torn--some out.

"SEPTEMBER 15th.

"I shall write it more for Bruce; he go to the trail to watch for travelers go. I am all by me, and my blue-eyed, dark-haired daughter here, with barred door I am much secured; but lonely so for darling Bruce.

"I try so hard to plainly use this English tongue, but strange it seems. My baby dear I deck with my mother's locket, where is the picture of dear Bruce and me--my dear mother's name on it: Morelia.

Oh, time is lonely now while Bruce away. I will lay this aside, its vial in, and will write it again after I unbar the door and watch for him."