“We shall have a day or two to work in, boys, because I expect they’ll try to recover the things first without raising a hue and cry. Cenarth will know it’s life and death to him to get them back quietly. You, Sep, will have to cross to Amsterdam to-night. I’ll take care to make up such a parcel as no one shall suspect. You will represent yourself as a merchant of—Tunis, say—who has been trading in South Africa. When you have disposed of as much there as you safely can, go on to Paris, and try—not the big firms—they’ll be on the alert by that time—but rich private Americans. Try the swell hotels. Stay at the Grand or the Louvre, and look out for Bertram, the railway millionaire; he’s due in Paris in a day or two. With him you may suggest the real source they came from; you needn’t give him all particulars. But if you manage well, he’ll nibble. And there will be no haggling. Do you understand? Keep your head clear—but you always do when there’s work in hand. I must do you that justice.”
“Justice!” echoed Sep sulkily. “I shall get a little too much of that before this affair is over, I fancy. There’s nothing in what we’ve done up to now. It might have been done over and over again if the rascals who thought of the Crown jewels before us hadn’t remembered the certainty of discovery afterwards. I’m tired of playing cat’s-paw. Go to Amsterdam yourself. You’re much more like a Tunisian merchant than I am. And you’ve more nerve. I don’t know what’s become of mine, but it’s gone.”
And Sep shivered as he cast round him another of the restless glances which Amos had noticed in him all day. Goodhare looked at him searchingly, and then laid an encouraging hand on his shoulder.
“I’d go with pleasure, my boy, if I could do what is to be done as well as you. But my Greek and Hebrew would not serve me as your knowledge of modern languages serves you; besides, you have been a traveller, and I a stay-at-home, and there is a difference between those two classes which I could not hide.”
“Come, Sep, don’t make difficulties,” said Rees impatiently. “We have all our different departments and separate work. Goodhare organises, I have the chief hand in carrying out——”
“And I do the dirty work,” added Sep querulously. “I shall have to go, of course; I know that. But it will be the last time; I feel it. So look out for yourselves.”
“What do you mean? You’re not going to round on us, I suppose?” said Rees, savagely.
“No, I haven’t the spirit to do that, as you know. But I—I’ve been seen—I’m sure of it. On my way back from that cursed Tower I seemed to see faces peering out of the fog—Charles Cenarth’s and Lord St. Austell’s. Of course I’ll go if you insist, but I tell you it will be a d——d unlucky journey.”
His companions laughed at his fears, did their best to raise his drooping spirits, and at last, chiefly by the aid of consoling potations, restored him to something like his old cheerful submissiveness. Then, taking swift advantage of the change in him, they equipped him for his journey with a disguise which Amos had had ready, with clothing, with money, and with a travelling bag with a false bottom, in which, between layers of tissue paper, the stolen jewels were packed. All these preparations being completed, Amos mixed a loving cup, which they all drank solemnly to their usual toast on the eve of one of their nefarious enterprises:
“Success to the Princes of the Fog.”