On a sudden I was cold as ice. The man was evidently insane. He seemed on the brink of a fit. He was frothing at the mouth.
"Softly, softly, Sir Robert," I said soothingly. "No need for excitement. Calm yourself; after all this is a business transaction."
"Oh!" he gasped, then broke into a wild laugh. "A mere matter of price. I should have known it; a Scotchman!"
"Exactly," said I. "And my price is a million. Good-morning."
The whole camp was astir. The negroes' tents were all down and rolled. The mules and asses were being loaded heavily. Evidently Sir Robert was about to flit after the corpse of Ptahmes. I found Miss Ottley and the Captain talking over the apparent move. The girl was agitated. She had not been consulted. It was not a time to mince matters. I told her frankly everything that had passed between her father and myself, and hardly had I finished, when she rushed off hot foot to visit him. The Captain went with her. I made a passably good breakfast.
Chapter X The Capture of the Coffin
About noon—I saw no one but blacks in the meanwhile—the Captain came with a letter. "From Sir Robert—catch!" said he. I tore it open. A single sheet of note enclosed a cheque signed in blank. "Dear Dr. Pinsent," ran the letter. "You will find that my signature will be honoured for any sum it may please you to put upon my life in your esteem. Permit me to express a hope that you will not hurt my vanity in your selection of numerals.
"Sincerely yours, Robert Ottley."