Cuthbert trusted that such indeed would be the case, but did not know whether the Wyverns had any lot or share in the treasure trove.

Whereat the old lady smiled, and said that she laid no claim to the gold--it was none of theirs, and never would be; but still, with her hand on Cuthbert's head, she declared that after herself and her sister he should reign at the Cross Way House, and that his share of the treasure, which in all sooth should be a large one, since but for him it might never have been found, would go to restore the fallen fortunes of the house, and to fulfil in very truth the fondly-cherished prediction.
Cuthbert's amazement had naturally been great; but this fair prospect held out to him had but given greater zest to his enterprise.

Not to a single soul in the house would Lady Humbert confide the secret, lest amongst themselves the faithful old servants should gossip, and rumour get abroad that the lonely house was worth attacking.

In the dead of night, upon appointed dates, Cuthbert brought to a certain iron-barred window the laden ass bearing his costly burden, and Petronella and Lady Humbert themselves received the treasure and bore it piece by piece to the secret room.

Not a creature slept on that side of the house--not a living being knew what was passing in the dead hours of the night; and in this fashion the treasure was being brought, Cuthbert descending the well, into which a little water had now filtered--enough to conceal the treasure from a passing observer if such there should chance to be--and with the assistance of their four-footed friend, drawing up as much as the patient beast could carry, and transporting it by night to this very house.
"When all is done," concluded Petronella--"and every load we think must surely be the last, there is so much of it--then he will forth to seek the gipsy in the forest, and tell her that the task is done.