By the light of a rush candle Brother Basil and the Abbot looked at the
precious grains of river-washed gold, twinkling like fairy stars. Brother
Basil's heart was content, not only because of the gold, but because his
most promising pupil, the wild herd-boy from the mountains, had not really
been weary of the work, but had proved his love for it and for his master.

The most excited person who heard of the discovery Padraig had made was
Simon the clerk. He had never lived in any country where gold could be
picked up in the streams, and he did not know, as Brother Basil did, that
these little dots of gold-dust had probably been washed down from some
rocky height miles away. He badgered Padraig in the hope of making him
tell where he had found them, but Padraig would not. It was one of his
best fishing-places, and he had no mind to have it ruined by a gold-hungry
clerk, seeking what had been put there for Brother Basil.

At last he grew tired of Simon's questioning, and took him aside and told
him a secret.

"I wonder," said Brother Basil, as he and his pupil went along a hillside
one day at the long, swinging trot they kept for long excursions, "what
Simon the clerk is doing there by the marsh. He seems to be looking for
something."

"He is," said Padraig with an impish grin. "He thinks the Cluricaune comes
there mornings to catch frogs, and if he can catch the Cluricaune he can
make him tell where all his gold is."

Brother Basil bit his lips to keep back a smile. "Now I wonder," he said
gravely, "who could have told him such a tale?"