Through all my adventures in the desert campaign, from the time when we first faced the hot, choking winds of the desert and covered our eyes to keep from being blinded by the sand until the time when we lifted the Stars and Stripes on the ramparts of Derne, the thought of the treasure tomb had dwelt with me. According to the rector's map, the buried chamber was within an hour's ride by camel of Tokra, a town located between Derne and Tripoli, quite near to the former.

The coast of northern Africa jutted out into the Mediterranean at this point, and made it a favorable spot for settlement by Phoenicians and earlier races who ruled this sea.

When I perceived that Captain Eaton's campaign against Tripoli had been blocked through lack of funds and that he himself had given up hope of receiving from our naval officers the money and supplies required to proceed against the stronghold of Joseph, I resolved to begin my treasure search in earnest, hoping to turn the gems and gold to the general's use. I resolved to take Mustapha along as my guide. The attachment that had sprung up between us grew stronger as the weeks passed. He was an Arab to the backbone. He could run all day in the heat and fall asleep at night on bare stones. He was as quick and noiseless in his movements as a wildcat, and his mood was a queer mixture of gentleness and fierceness. Having adopted me, he was fiercely jealous, and his brown face would become convulsed if strange Arab boys from any of the camps we passed tried to follow me.

One night, on swift camels which we borrowed from Mustapha's sheik, we rode away from Derne. It was a foolhardy enterprise, because Joseph Bashaw's army lay between us and Tokra, yet we managed to avoid their outposts and when morning broke we were well beyond their lines.

I had not taken the general into my confidence. He might have told me, to keep me from going on what he would consider a wild goose chase, that he would not avail himself of the gold, even if it were found. I felt too, since the rector had tried so hard to keep the facts concerning the treasure a secret, that I should not reveal it, even to those I trusted most.

We joined ourselves to a caravan as we approached Tokra. Mustapha had acquaintances among the camel-drivers, and his explanations created for us a kindly reception. Mingling thus with the Arabs, we rode into Tokra without attracting the attention of the people. That this was fortunate for me, I was soon to find out. A larger caravan had entered the town a few hours before us. Its people had thronged the cafÉs. As I rode through the narrow street, holding my hood well over my face to keep from being recognized as a hated "Nazarene," I caught sight of a tall well-dressed Moor watching a group of dancing girls. His brilliant robe attracted my attention, then something familiar about his figure made me observe him more closely. My gaze traveled up his burly form to his bearded face. I could see it only in profile, but the sight was enough to set me to trembling. I had recognized Murad.

He did not see us. In the cafÉ before which he lounged were girls of the Ouled-Nahil tribe, dancing. We could see over the heads of the men these stately creatures gliding and twisting to the music of clarionets and tam-tams. Their mountainous head-gear of plaited wool, bound by brilliantly-colored silk kerchiefs shook with the movements of their bodies. We could hear amidst the music the jingling of their bangles. I saw also a boy bring a live coal in a pair of tongs to Murad, so that the latter might light his long pipe.

A score of questions flashed through my mind. Had the Egyptian found the treasure, and was he now enjoying the wealth? Or had he been detained as I was in reaching this spot, and could it be that he had been a member of the newly arrived caravan? Did he mean to spend the night amidst the luxury of the cafÉ or would he soon come forth to hunt for the treasure tomb?

I decided from his manner that he had newly arrived, and that, for a few hours at least, he would smoke his pipe and drink his coffee and watch the dance. During those few hours I resolved to push my search.

When we found a spot in which I could examine the map without being observed I was puzzled to find that the location of the treasure tomb was set down as being not outside of the city, but in its very midst. Through Mustapha, I made inquiry of an old Arab. Yes, he said, in reply to my questions, there had been a temple there once. The reason the ruins could not be seen now was that successive tribes of Arabs had come and camped on the ruins until the soil and filth they had left behind them had covered the floors. There had been walls, but they were now used for sheep folds, goat-yards, poultry-yards, donkey-sheds.

The rector's exploration had been made also at night. The upper tomb he had found was known to everyone. It too had probably held riches, but it had been plundered centuries since. None of the later tribes had thought to look beneath it. The rector would not have had the curiosity to explore if it had not been that in Greece a scientist had discovered there double layers of tombs hewn out of the rocks.

Mustapha then translated to me the words written in Arabic at the foot of the diagram:

"Walk along the north wall of the town until there rises from the mud-huts and cattle-sheds a stone pillar that lifts about eight feet above the surrounding roofs. This pillar will mark the location of a tomb that is still respected as a holy place by the people of the town. Under the floor of this tomb, lies the treasure chamber. Its entrance is through the outer wall, where I dug out a stone. Pry along south wall below ground till triangular slab is found."

Past clusters of mud-huts, dirt-heaps, piles of broken pottery, and odorous cattle-sheds we groped. The dogs barked and ran snarling about our feet, but Mustapha had magic words that soothed and hushed them. At last, against the star-filled skies, we saw a rugged pillar lift up. The huts and sheds stopped at this point, and for several rods there were no buildings. The loneliness of the spot I took as a good omen. It meant that I could dig with little fear of disturbance.

From the town came sounds of singing and shouting. Drinking and dancing and merry-making were engaging the people. With these unceasing noises drowning the clink of our spades, we began to dig.

The dirt and debris was loose, and our arms were winged by excitement and fear. I had told Mustapha that I expected that he should earn enough money on this trip to give him a university education at Fez, enough to make him respected as a sheik. Under the enchanting prospect, and for love of me, he toiled.

After ten minutes of digging, I took my dirk and felt along the side of the wall which we had uncovered. My dirk's point entered a crevice. We dug again, frantically, and now I was able to trace all sides of the loose block of stone that acted as a bar to the entrance. Mustapha brought out his knife and aided me in the prying, and between us we managed to move the stone outwards as if it worked on hinges. I thought of the Arabian lad who entered the retreat of the Forty Thieves. I too had found an "Open Sesame" to riches. Were my eyes also to be dazzled by the sight of treasure?

The finding of the entrance, though it made me solemn, also created something of a sense of security, for now we could continue our search underground without attracting attention. One fear, however, still lingered, and moved me to frantic haste—Murad's coming!

We lowered ourselves a depth of six feet into the rock room. The clammy moisture chilled our faces; the foul smell choked us. Lifting our torches, we peered into the darkness.

When our eyes grew accustomed to the gloom we found ourselves standing among several skeletons, which had the appearance of having been hurriedly buried. This discovery almost led us to a panicky retreat, but I had risked too much to be turned from my quest by skeletons, and I stepped across the bones and thrust my torch into the center regions. There, buried in oblong chambers rudely hewn out of the rock floor of the cavern, I saw six bodies that had moldered to dust. Girding their bones, however, was jewelry such as I had never, even in my wildest dreams, imagined.

Upon the time-blackened skulls were headbands of gold. Covering the rib-bones were massive breast-plates of the same metal. As I held down my flame the delicately-wrought patterns of rosettes and palmettos with which these pieces were ornamented flashed out brilliantly. Upon the wrist-bones hung loosely serpent-shaped gold bracelets. From this rich metal dress jewels flamed out to match my beacon's fire.

Around these rock tombs lay more treasures—inlaid daggers with images of cats engraved on their gold handles and with lotus patterns traced on their blades; alabaster cups, hollowed out and painted inside with a brilliant red; stone images of elks with heads of silver; jugs and cups of ivory, alabaster, amber, silver, gold, and porcelain.

Scholars have since told me that the ancients considered that the station of a person in the world of the dead depended upon the wealth with which he was buried. The people who buried these corpses had assuredly done their utmost to insure the eminence of their friends in the dominions of death. I did not pause to wonder whether these were the remains of Phoenicians, Egyptians or of a still earlier race that had dominated the Mediterranean and exacted toll of treasure from the surrounding barbaric tribes. Here the bodies lay. Above them, through the centuries, strange peoples had settled and passed; caravans had stopped and hurried on; dancing girls had whirled; dervishes had practiced sorceries, yet none dreamed of this cool tomb with its riches. The stuff was here for my taking. Murad was hard on my heels. My lust for fortune overcame all thoughts of reverence for the dead.

"Open the sacks, Mustapha," I said, "the smallest treasures are the most valuable. We will take what we can carry and trust to fortune for a chance to bring out the rest—or perhaps they will fall as crumbs to Murad!"

"Listen, master," Mustapha whispered. Men's voices came to us. I sprang in terror towards the entrance with Mustapha at my heels. As I peered out into the night my breath came again. The tinkle of camel bells came to reassure me. A caravan was entering Tokra, with no suspicion that they were passing within a stone's throw of such wealth.

The capacious sacks loaded, I climbed out of the tomb by making a stepping-stone of Mustapha's back. He hoisted up to me the three bags. I then leaned down and pulled him out. It was about midnight.

"Go to the stables," I said, giving him a coin, "and tell Achmet the camel keeper that urgent business takes you back to Derne. Bring our camels—Achmet knows that they belong to you. Put the gold into his palm. Tell him that you are on business for Hamet Bashaw, who may conquer Tokra next week!"

"I know that he sympathizes with Hamet," Mustapha assured me. "He will help us, and keep his tongue!"

While Mustapha was gone, I replaced the stone door and shoveled back the dirt. Mustapha returned with the camels. They knelt as we loaded the sacks upon them. Around them we piled the bags of dates that had already formed the camels' freight. We turned towards Derne and rode like the wind.

Many hours would pass, I reasoned, before Murad would begin his search. If then he suspected that the tomb had been robbed and made inquiries, many more hours must pass before he could start in pursuit.

As things happened, however, it was not from behind us that danger came. We came into the vicinity of Derne at nightfall, and drove our jaded camels as fast as we could make them fly, fearing always an encounter with the soldiers of Joseph Bashaw. We succeeded in gaining the city's bounds with no adventure except passing through a volley fired at random by guards whom we passed too swiftly to permit them to arrest us, but as we rode through the town at gray dawn we observed no signs of our troops.

We learned from old Omar, an inn-keeper who came drowsily out to open for us, that the ship Constellation had arrived bearing orders to General Eaton to quit Derne at once, since Consul-General Lear had concluded a peace with Tripoli. He told us that General Eaton and all of the Christians in the party, together with Hamet Bashaw and his suite, had embarked on the Constellation in a secret manner, for fear that the people of Derne, and their allies, the Arab supporters of Hamet, would attempt to massacre the party when they found that the war had been abandoned and that they were left to the mercy of Joseph.

Omar described how, when General Eaton had barely gotten clear of the wharf, the soldiers and citizens of Derne had crowded down to the shore shouting prayers to the general and Hamet not to leave them to the mercy of Joseph's soldiers. Finding their pleas of no avail, the soldiers had seized the horses the party had left behind, plundered the tents of the departing officers, and fled towards Egypt.

After this occurrence a Tripolitan officer, a messenger from Joseph Bashaw, had landed from the Constellation under a flag of truce, bearing a message to the people of Derne that Joseph Bashaw would pardon all who laid down their arms and renewed their allegiance to him. Joseph's troops were to begin the occupancy of Derne that morning.

Omar shook his head.

"For myself, I fear nothing. Allah is good. Under his guidance I remained loyal to Joseph. The returning Governor will know that Omar is faithful. But as for my neighbors—let them not trust too much in the Bashaw's promises. If I had fought on Hamet's side I should flee to the mountains!"

Mustapha and I exchanged worried glances. Here we were abandoned by our friends and facing capture by Joseph's soldiers when they entered the city. In that case, our gold and jewels would go to adorn the greedy Joseph's throne. The main object of our treasure search, to provide the general with funds to continue the expedition, could not be carried out. There was nothing to do but flee—but where? From the camp of the enemy came sounds of soldiers assembling. The triumphal entry would soon begin.

"Cavalry! Mount! Escape!" cried Mustapha.

From a distance, swiftly coming nearer, we heard the sound of hoof-beats. Around the corner of the inn came a blaze of color. Galloping steeds were suddenly reined in. A Moorish officer, splendidly uniformed, came towards me. Mustapha, who had stood several yards away, began to lead his beast and mine down towards the river front.

"Alhamdulilah! (Praise be to God)" he sang, "My lord the Bashaw returns to his own! The cowardly usurper Hamet has fled before Joseph Bashaw's brave warriors!"

The troopers gave Mustapha but a fleeting glance. My head was uncovered and they saw that I was an American.

There was a whispered conference. American warships might be still in the mists that hid sea and shore. I had hopes that they would pass me by unmolested. Instead the officer turned to his men.

"Bind the Nazarene! One at least of the Christian dogs shall pay the penalty of starting rebellion against our worshipful ruler!"

I was bound hand and foot, thrown across a camel's back, and led out of the city, to the enemy's camp.

In the possession of an Arab lad, who was now as a lamb among wolves, were the gold and jewels I had risked so much to secure. One gem of the collection would have purchased my ransom, but knowing that a hint as to the contents of the sacks would lead to the loss of all of the treasure, I resolved to suffer slavery before I spoke of them. I prayed that Mustapha would keep the secret, yet how could I expect that fate would not reveal the contents of the sacks to covetous eyes?