“You soon will, my lad. I, in my desire to do my duty by you, felt that it would not be right to let a mere schoolboy like you come away to make your home at some place of education with so costly, and, from its associations, unique a jewel as the one in question.”
“You used to say so to me, sir,” said the boy quickly.
“Yes. But in your young hot-blooded Indian nature you were not pacified, and I felt bound to do something that I thought then would be right.”
Singh looked at him and then at Glyn, while the rest of those assembled listened eagerly for the Colonel’s next words.
“Do you remember, boys, our long stay in Colombo?”
“Yes!” they cried in a breath.
“Well, they are famous people for working in jewellery there, and I easily found a man ready to undertake the task of making a facsimile of the belt.”
“Facsimile!” cried Singh, starting away from the speaker.
“Yes, my boy; and he did it beautifully—so well that I was almost startled by its exactitude and the way in which a few pieces of green glass resembled emeralds.”
“But the Sanskrit inscription?” cried the Doctor.