Mr. Endacott inclined his head.
“Our young friend is showing signs of intelligence,” he admitted. “He is beginning to travel along the lines of the allegory.”
“If this is true,” Gregory asked bluntly, “what is the use of my taking one to England and leaving the other here in this warehouse?”
“The only reason for such a course seems to be,” his companion murmured, “that one does not belong to you. Perhaps you can trade with the firm. I myself am not a trader. Wu Ling is. Wu Ling, I am sure, is at your disposal.”
“How can I trade?” Gregory demanded. “What do you suppose brought me out here on an enterprise like this? Love of adventure a good deal, I grant you, but, behind it all, sheer and absolute need of money. We are poor in England to-day, Mr. Endacott, we people with estates. I haven’t the money to buy your Image. After my experience of last night I would rather consider an offer from you for mine.”
Wu Ling smiled. He talked for a moment in Chinese to his companion. The latter showed signs of agreement.
“Wu Ling’s attitude is mine,” Mr. Endacott pronounced. “If by any chance you had acquired the statue we possess and we had yours, the firm of Johnson and Company would trade. Not now. We are content.”
“Then you don’t believe in your own allegory?” Gregory queried.
Wu Ling was looking into the dark recesses of the warehouse. There was nothing to indicate that he had heard or understood, but it was he who replied.
“Yes, I believe in it,” he admitted. “We both believe in it, but we have many jewels and I think that these will be hard to find.”