Here they were alone on this island where in all probability no one else had set foot for many years. The adventure of this day had met with success beyond his wildest dreams. The treasure was there--was theirs. All they had to do was to take it. There was no earthly reason to feel uneasy and yet he was uneasy.
All during the long hours--and they sat up way into the night exulting--he was haunted by a sensation of impending evil. Thinking that he was overwrought by the day's adventure, he tried to dismiss these thoughts but without very much success.
Long after his comrades were sleeping soundly he lay staring into the dark. Once he caught himself straining his ears to catch some fancied sound.
The storm had died down and the night, save for the low drumming of the waves on the beach, was so still that he could almost hear his heart beat.
What was he listening for, he asked himself. The night was breathless. He could have heard nothing. Then, calling himself all kinds of a fool he turned over and went to sleep.
He woke, struggling through a sea of unconsciousness, with the distinct feeling that an unseen presence was near him. Not fully awake, he sprang to his feet, revolver in hand.
Was it imagination that the figure of a man, vague and indistinct as the night itself, slipped from the cave? His vision was blurred with sleep. Impatiently he rubbed a hand across his eyes.
With a bound he was at the door of the cave--outside, straining his eyes in an effort to pierce the shadows.
There was nothing. No sign, no sound save the monotonous moaning of the waves upon the beach.
He walked a little way, searching, his revolver held ready for action. Still he saw nothing. Reluctantly he turned back toward the cave.
He lay down again but not to sleep. For a long time he lay there, watchful, alert. As the first faint grey of dawn tinged the sky he relaxed his vigil and fell asleep.
It was not hard in the reassuring sunlight of the "morning after" for Phil to tell himself that his experience of the night before had been nothing more than a peculiarly vivid dream.
There was the temptation to tell the fellows about it, but on second thought he decided to hold his peace. The memory of how they had laughed when he had thought he heard a shot was still with him and he was not anxious to give them the chance to laugh a second time.