"Go there; go to Yucatan," cried Mallien, staring; "an old buffer like you?"
"Yes, sir," said the vicar with dignity. "For quite a year since you mentioned the diary of your father, it has been in my mind to fit out an expedition to so interesting a place."
"How can you fit out an expedition on your income?"
"Money. Ah yes, I shall require money, of course."
"And a jolly lot, too. Expeditions are not fitted out for nothing."
"I believe not," murmured Mr. Leigh, again dipping into the manuscript. "Well, well, the money will be forthcoming."
"Who will give it to you?" asked Mallien contemptuously.
"I thought that Rupert----?"
"Pooh! You might as well try and get blood out of a stone, Mr. Leigh. And why the dickens should he give you money to go on a wild-goose chase? Rupert is a wise man, and keeps his cash in his pocket, as I'd do if I had his income."
"Would you not give me the money if you had four thousand a year?" asked the vicar, with an extraordinarily keen look.