Читать книгу A West Point Treasure; Or, Mark Mallory's Strange Find онлайн

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The seven had no time to laugh at that; they were too busy staring. The feeble light could not reach to the other end of the long vista they saw, and neither could one of the papers they hastily lit. But it gave them one glimpse of a most amazing scene.

This cave was indeed a surprising place. The carpet they saw covered nearly all of the floor. There were chairs scattered about, and other articles of furniture. There were some curtains draped from the rocky walls. There were swinging lamps from the vaulted roof. Down in the dim distance there was even a table—a table with shining white dishes upon it. And then the light began to flicker.

Quick as a flash Mark seized it and sprang toward one of the lamps. He was just in time. He whipped off the shade and touched the wick. A moment later they were standing in a brilliant, clear light, that shone to the farthest depths of the place.

The seven bold plebes stood in the center beneath the lamp, perfectly amazed by what they saw. The same idea was flashing across the minds of all of them. This splendor must belong to some one! Those dishes up there were set for a meal! And the owner—where was he? Suppose he should come and find them there? Indian cast a longing glance at the opening that led to freedom outside.