“What does he do with it, then, at other times?”
“Nothing,” cried Glyn merrily. “It’s kept shut up in a glass case at the Tower, for people to go and see.”
“England seems a queer place,” said Singh quietly.
“Very,” cried Glyn drily. “You never want those Indian clothes, and you ought to have done as I told you—left them behind.”
“But the Colonel didn’t say so,” replied the boy warmly. “He said that some day he might take me with him to Court. It was when I asked him for the emeralds.”
“What do you mean—the belt?” said Glyn quickly.
“Yes.”
“You never told me that you had got them.”
“No; the Colonel said that I was not to make a fuss about them nor show them to people, but keep them locked up in the case. Here they are,” cried the boy; and, thrusting down one hand, he drew from beneath some folded garments a small flat scarlet morocco case, which he opened by pressing a spring, and drew out from where it lay neatly doubled, a gold-embroidered waistbelt of some soft yellow leather, whose fastening was formed of a gold clasp covered by a large flat emerald, two others of similar shape being arranged so that when the belt was fastened round the waist they lay on either side. It was a magnificent piece of ornamentation, but barbaric, and such as would be worn by an Indian prince.
Apparently it was of great value, for the largest glittering green stone was fully two inches in length and an inch and a half wide, the others being about half the size, and all three engraved with lines of large Arabic characters, so that either stone could have been utilised as a gigantic seal.