at the same time I came to the conclusion that the stuff was worth
looting, and so set to work quarrying it out with the heel of my
boot and a pocket-knife.

The sheets were all more or less stuck together, and so I did not
go in for separating them farther. They fitted exactly to the
cavity in which they were stored, but by smashing down its front I
was able to get at the foot of them, and then I hacked away through
the bottom layers with the knife till I got the bulk out in one
solid piece. It measured some twenty inches by fifteen, by
fifteen, but it was not so heavy as it looked, and when I had taken
the remaining photographs, I lowered it down to Coppinger on the
end of the rope.

There was nothing more to do in the caves then, so I went down
myself next. The lump of sheets was on the ground, and Coppinger
was on all fours beside it. He was pretty nearly mad with
excitement.


"What is it?" I asked him.

"I don't know yet. But it is the most valuable find ever made
in the Canary Islands, and it's yours, you unappreciative beggar;
at least what there is left of it. Oh, man, man, you've smashed up
the beginning, and you've smashed up the end of some history that
is probably priceless. It's my own fault. I ought to have known
better than set an untrained man to do important exploring work."

"I should say it's your fault if anything's gone wrong. You