“Ah, I thought you would listen to reason,” I said quickly. “Now tell me frankly: Why have you been so keen on this hunt for the casket? Was it to please Miss Quintard or to please yourself?”
“Why not both? In pleasing myself perhaps I should be pleasing Miss Quintard.”
“And perhaps not,” I replied drily. “A truthful answer, duke, if you please. We have no time to lose–if you care anything for the baubles in this casket.”
“Well, then, for myself,” he said, looking at me curiously.
“And if I had not surprised you just now, you would have taken your casketful of jewels to London or Paris to dispose of them at leisure?”
“Perhaps,” he assented insolently.
“Or would you have taken this casket to Miss Quintard and apologized for making a slight error?”
“Why could I not have done both?” he cried. “Yes, Mr. Hume, even if you give it to the gendarmes, the casket is mine–legally and morally. The state will grant my claim, and then––”
“That is the point I was coming to. Supposing you were offered a share of these baubles–I do not say how great a share–is it possible that you could be induced to give up the casket?”
“I have heard there is an English proverb that it is better to have a bird in one’s hand than two birds in the bushes.”