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Dr。 Knipperhausen then unclasped the volume which he had brought
under his arm； which was printed in red and black characters in
German text。 While Wolfert held the lantern； the doctor； by the
aid of his spectacles； read off several forms of conjuration in
Latin and German。 He then ordered Sam to seize the pickax and
proceed to work。 The close…bound soil gave obstinate signs of not
having been disturbed for many a year。 After having picked his way
through the surface； Sam came to a bed of sand and gravel； which he
threw briskly to right and left with the spade。
＇1＇ A German exclamation of anger； equivalent to the English
〃zounds！〃
〃Hark！〃 said Wolfert； who fancied he heard a trampling among the
dry leaves and a rustling through the bushes。 Sam paused for a
moment； and they listened。 No footstep was near。 The bat flitted
by them in silence； a bird； roused from its roost by the light
which glared up among the trees； flew circling about the flame。 In
the profound stillness of the woodland they could distinguish the
current rippling along the rocky shore； and the distant murmuring
and roaring of Hell Gate。
The negro continued his labors； and had already digged a
considerable hole。 The doctor stood on the edge； reading formulae
every now and then from his black…letter volume； or throwing more
drugs and herbs upon the fire； while Wolfert bent anxiously over
the pit； watching every stroke of the spade。 Anyone witnessing the
scene thus lighted up by fire； lantern； and the reflection of
Wolfert's red mantle； might have mistaken the little doctor for
some foul magician； busied in his incantations； and the grizzly…
headed negro for some swart goblin obedient to his commands。
At length the spade of the fisherman struck upon something that
sounded hollow。 The sound vibrated to Wolfert's heart。 He struck
his spade again。
〃'Tis a chest；〃 said Sam。
〃Full of gold； I'll warrant it！〃 cried Wolfert； clasping his hands
with rapture。
Scarcely had he uttered the words when a sound from above caught
his ear。 He cast up his eyes； and lo！ by the expiring light of the
fire he beheld； just over the disk of the rock； what appeared to be
the grim visage of the drowned buccaneer； grinning hideously down
upon him。
Wolfert gave a loud cry and let fall the lantern。 His panic
communicated itself to his companions。 The negro leaped out of the
hole； the doctor dropped his book and basket； and began to pray in
German。 All was horror and confusion。 The fire was scattered
about； the lantern extinguished。 In their hurry…scurry＇1＇ they ran
against and confounded one another。 They fancied a legion of
hobgoblins let loose upon them； and that they saw； by the fitful
gleams of the scattered embers； strange figures； in red caps；
gibbering and ramping around them。 The doctor ran one way； the
negro another； and Wolfert made for the water side。 As he plunged
struggling onward through brush and brake； he heard the tread of
some one in pursuit。 He scrambled frantically forward。 The
footsteps gained upon him。 He felt himself grasped by his cloak；
when suddenly his pursuer was attacked in turn； a fierce fight and
struggle ensued； a pistol was discharged that lit up rock and bush
for a second； and showed two figures grappling together； all was
then darker than ever。 The contest continued； the combatants
clinched each other； and panted and groaned； and rolled among the
rocks。 There was snarling and growling as of a cur； mingled with
curses； in which Wolfert fancied he could recognize the voice of
the buccaneer。 He would fain have fled； but he was on the brink of
a precipice； and could go no farther。
＇1＇ A swift； disorderly movement。
Again the parties were on their feet； again there was a tugging and
struggling； as if strength alone could decide the combat； until one
was precipitated from the brow of the cliff； and sent headlong into
the deep stream that whirled below。 Wolfert heard the plunge； and
a kind of strangling； bubbling murmur； but the darkness of the
night hid everything from him； and the swiftness of the current
swept everything instantly out of hearing。 One of the combatants
was disposed of； but whether friend or foe Wolfert could not tell；
nor whether they might not both be foes。 He heard the survivor
approach； and his terror revived。 He saw； where the profile of the
rocks rose against the horizon； a human form advancing。 He could
not be mistaken； it must be the buccaneer。 Whither should he fly？…
…a precipice was on one side； a murderer on the other。 The enemy
approachedhe was close at hand。 Wolfert attempted to let himself
down the face of the cliff。 His cloak caught in a thorn that grew
on the edge。 He was jerked from off his feet； and held dangling in
the air； half choked by the string with which his careful wife had
fastened the garment around his neck。 Wolfert thought his last
moment was arrived； already had he committed his soul to St。
Nicholas； when the string broke； and he tumbled down the bank；
bumping from rock to rock and bush to bush； and leaving the red
cloak fluttering like a bloody banner in the air。
It was a long while before Wolfert came to himself。 When he opened
his eyes； the ruddy streaks of morning were already shooting up the
sky。 He found himself grievously battered； and lying in the bottom
of a boat。 He attempted to sit up； but was too sore and stiff to
move。 A voice requested him in a friendly accents to lie still。
He turned his eyes toward the speaker； it was Dirk Waldron。 He had
dogged the party； at the earnest request of Dame Webber and her
daughter； who； with the laudable curiosity of their sex； had pried
into the secret consultations of Wolfert and the doctor。 Dirk had
been completely distanced in following the light skiff of the
fisherman； and had just come in time to rescue the poor money
digger from his pursuer。
Thus ended this perilous enterprise。 The doctor and Black Sam
severally found their way back to the Manhattoes； each having some
dreadful tale of peril to relate。 As to poor Wolfert； instead of
returning in triumph； laden with bags of gold； he was borne home on
a shutter； followed by a rabble…rout＇1＇ of curious urchins。 His
wife and daughter saw the dismal pageant from a distance； and
alarmed the neighborhood with their cries； they thought the poor
man had suddenly settled the great debt of nature in one of his
wayward moods。 Finding him； however； still living； they had him
speedily to bed； and a jury of old matrons of the neighborhood
assembled to determine how he should be doctored。 The whole town
was in a buzz with the story of the money diggers。 Many repaired
to the scene of the previous night's adventures； but though they
found the very place of the digging； they discovered nothing that
compensated them for their trouble。 Some say they found the
fragments of an oaken chest； and an iron p