Next day, the 16th of April--a day I have had cause to remember all my
life--I played truant from Mr. Glennie, and by ten in the forenoon found
myself in the woods.
There was a little dimple on the hillside above the house, green with
burdocks in summer and filled with dry leaves in winter--just big enough
to hold one lying flat, and not so deep but that I could look over the
lip of it and see the house without being seen. Thither I went that day,
and lay down in the dry leaves to wait and watch for Grace.
The morning was bright enough. The chills of the night before had given
way to sunlight that seemed warm as summer, and yet had with it the soft
freshness of spring. There was scarce a breath moving in the wood, though
I could see the clouds of white dust stalking up the road that climbs
Ridge down, and the trees were green with buds, yet without leafage to
keep the sunbeams from lighting up the ground below, which glowed with
yellow king-cups. So I lay there for a long, long while; and to make time
pass quicker, took from my bosom the silver locket, and opening it, read
again the parchment, which I had read times out of mind before, and knew
indeed by heart.
'The days of our age are threescore years and ten', and the rest.
Now, whenever I handled the locket, my thoughts were turned to Mohune's
treasure; and it was natural that it should be so, for the locket
reminded me of my first journey to the vault; and I laughed at myself,
remembering how simple I had been, and had hoped to find the place
littered with diamonds, and to see the gold lying packed in heaps.
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