“Oh do; shew me them to-morrow. I should love to see them. The old rip! Sorry, Father: about the sapphire.”
Colin let his eyes rest again on the great stone, and then looked straight at Dennis.
“He says that his Lord and Benefactor caused him so mightily to please the Queen that she gave it him,” he said. “You must learn to love it, Dennis, for he calls it the finest fruit of his bargain.”
Dennis looked puzzled.
“His bargain?” he asked. “Oh, the legend. Then do you think he really believed in the legend?”
“Certainly he did, and wise he was too. You shall read how Satan came to him one night as he slept.”
Dennis had taken off his tunic, and stood there stock-still, his face now more definitely troubled.
“Like some horrible nightmare?” he asked.
Colin came a step nearer, black as the pit and fair of face, with the stone gleaming in his hand.
“A nightmare? Good heavens, no!” he said. “Like some wonderful dream, if you like, but it was no dream. It was gloriously real. You can’t understand yet what the bargain meant, for you’re only a boy, and there’s nothing that you really want which you don’t get. But imagine what it would be, when you grew up, to have every wish gratified.... The bargain holds not for old Colin alone but for all those who come after, you and me for instance, who by their own choice claim their right to share in it. The legend is no fairy tale, Dennis; it is sober, serious truth. It was a miracle, if you like, but the evidence for it is conclusive.”