"Indeed, Baron, I'm quite breathless with surprise, and really very sorry to lose you. Blanche and I will miss you sorely. If you ever come to New York you know where to find me and a warm welcome. Our kindest thoughts will follow you. Thank you for the spoon, although at any other time I might hesitate to become the receiver of stolen goods. Good-bye!"
"Gude-bye, Madame—gude-bye, Señorita." He holds my hand the briefest moment, and I feel a big lump come in my throat at the sight of his face. My voice wavers a little as I say:
"I am so sorry to say good-bye to you."
"Dthank you, Señorita. I haf somedthing off yours I must not forget." He puts a hand in his breast pocket and brings out the gold-crested letter-book. He takes from it a tiny roll of cigarette paper. "Vidth all my boast I haf not succeed to 'keep my pearl'; it ees yours, Señorita."
"No, Baron——" I begin, with warm protest.
"If you vant me to haf it, Señorita, write me and I vill come from dthe end of dthe vorld to get it. But you vill not, zo put dthis Inca eye beside it. Dthey zay in my country it bring gude luck. But it look like dthat sun ve haf ofer our heads in Acapulco Bay, dthink you not zo, Madame?"
He shows her the curious jewel, like opaque amber sprinkled with gold dust.
"It is very curious and interesting," says Mrs. Steele.
"Indeed it is," I agree; "thank you very much." But I scarcely see the Inca eye; I am looking into his and trying to read his face.
"Zo, Señorita, dthough you go far nordthvard dthe Inca's eye from Peru ees still upon you; I haf send him to take care off ... dthe pearl. Gude-bye—Gude-bye, Madame!"