Romola was holding back the curtains while a troop of four men, muddy and wet, as if from long travel, moved silently into the large room.
"Mongolian smugglers," Peter whispered.
The four large men crossed the room with dignified tread, depositing four small bundles wrapped in blue silk at the altar of Buddha. Then they removed straw-matting rainproofs which dangled from their broad shoulders to their muddy sandals. They were garbed in black silk and fastened at the belt of each was a kris, curved and flashing where the golden candle light skimmed along the whetted steel.
After depositing their slight burdens they bowed low before the altar, muttered deep in their throats, arose and salaamed gravely, until the four pigtails flapped on the heavy blue rug at Romola's bare feet. She wore no sandals, which was probably the custom among pirate princesses. When the men were gone, Romola drew back a rug which hung close to the altar, revealing a small cupboard flush with the wall. Even Anthony looked at the black door and the brass hasp with his gray eyes round in wonder and interest.
After disposing of the four silken parcels, Romola addressed them in a mysterious voice: "Those packages contain gems; diamonds, rubies, pearls from the Punjab, from Bengali, from Burma."
"Can we see them?" pleaded Helen in rapt tones.
"Aw, please!" inserted Peggy in an angelic whisper.
Romola raised both of her hands as if in horror. "They would tempt even a saint," she muttered.
"Be careful," warned Peter, laying his lips to Peggy's pink ear, "the princess has a terrible temper. She has been known to strangle a man for less than that!"
"I don't believe it!" retorted Peggy. "I think the princess is just too sweet for anything."