“Like this,” said Briscoe, picking up a flat water-worn pebble and, drawing his keen sheath-knife, he took the thickest scale in Brace’s pan out of the sand, to place it upon the smooth surface. “Now,” he said, handing this and the knife to the young man, “try and cut that scale in two.”
Brace tried, and by exercising a little pressure he cut through the yellow scale almost as easily as if it had been lead.
“There,” said the young man half-contemptuously, “what does that prove?”
“That it is pure gold,” replied Briscoe.
“But all is not gold that glitters,” said Sir Humphrey, laughing.
“Not by a long way,” said Briscoe; “but that is metal?”
“Certainly.”
“It is yellow?”
“Yes,” said Sir Humphrey.
“Then it is gold.”