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“Then I came on to this village, and arrived here to-night, having been a month and two days on my journey. And now, lord, if you can, give me a place to sleep in, since I am weary, who for three days have scarcely shut my eyes. To-morrow you can let me know what answer I must bear to the old man, Zibalbay.”

* * * * * * *

I, Ignatio, sat late that night pondering over these tidings, which filled me with a strange hope. Could it be that my hour of success was at hand after so many years of waiting? If there were truth in prophecies it would seem so, and yet my faith wavered. This traveller, whom Molas had seen, might be a madman, and his symbol might be forged. I could not tell, but at least I would put the matter to the proof, for to-morrow, or so soon as was possible, I would journey down to Chiapas and seek him out.

Thinking thus, I threw myself upon my bed and strove to sleep, but could not. Then, remembering the scroll that my friend had given me, I rose, purposing to change my thoughts in studying it and so win sleep. It was a hard task, but at length I mastered its meaning, and found that it dealt with a mine near Cumarvo, and described the exact position of the mouth of the tunnel.