“And you had me tied up while those things were going on? Trix––I’ll never forgive you. I might have been a regular story-book hero.”
“Not in Carlina; you’d have been killed before night.”
“Rot! Don’t you think I’m old enough to take care of myself?”
“No,” she answered. “And that’s why I’ve come with you.”
“I’d have cleared up that trouble in a week,” he exploded. “And as for those beggars of mine––do you know I risked my life to get their pay to them through an agent? And then they turned against us.”
“Still for pay,” she said.
“Well, their life will be a short one and a merry in that crowd. Once the darned republic is running again, they will be got rid of.”
If Danbury squirmed at having missed the excitement at Bogova, he fairly writhed with envy of Stubbs and Wilson. As he listened he hitched back and forth in his chair, leaned over the table until he threatened to sprawl among the glasses, and groaned jealously at every crisis. Wilson told his story as simply as possible from its beginning; the scenes at the house, his finding the map, his adventures in Bogova, the long trip to the cave, his danger there, and their dash back with the treasure, omitting, however, the story of the Priest’s 344 relation to the girl as of too personal a nature. At this point the black coffee was brought on, the steward dismissed, and as a climax to the narrative the contents of the twenty bags of jewels poured out upon the table. They made a living, sparkling heap that held everyone of them in silent wonder. Beneath the electric lights, they took on their brightest hues, darting rays in all directions, a dazzling collection which in value and beauty was greater than any which has ever been gathered at one time. To-day they are scattered all over the world. There is not a collection in Europe which is not the richer for one or more of them. They flash upon the fingers of royalty, they sparkle upon the bosom of our own richest, they are locked tight in the heavy safes of London Jews, and at least four of them the Rajah of Lamar ranks among the choicest of what is called the most magnificent collection in the world. But the two finest of them all, neither the money of Jews nor the influence of royalty was powerful enough to secure; one came as a wedding gift to Mrs. Danbury, and the other was a gift from Stubbs to Jo.
For a few minutes they lay there together, as for so long they had lain in the cave––a coruscating fortune of many millions.
“Well,” gasped Danbury, “you fellows certainly got all the fun and a good share of the profit out of this trip. But––did you say you left a pile behind?”