With a quick motion of his left hand, The Shadow flung aside the glove that covered it. His hand dropped into the box and arose, to let a galaxy of sparkling objects fall in a dripping, gorgeous flow.
“The wealth of the Romanoffs” — The Shadow’s whisper was mockery — “millions upon millions. Deluded fools! These gems are false! They are worthless bits of sparkling glass!”
A gasp came from Frederick Froman. Parker Noyes echoed the astonished cry. Ivan Motkin’s face took on a sudden grimness. The Shadow laughed as he stepped back and placed his hand flat against the front of his flowing black cloak.
All eyes were upon that hand, where the luminous girasol shone in changing light. The blue and crimson of that fire opal told of an uncanny knowledge which its owner possessed.
“The gems of the Romanoffs!” declared The Shadow. “They have been scattered long ago. Some were saved by their former owners, who have kept the secret to themselves. Others are lost, in buried hiding places. Still more were sold secretly by those who captured them.
“The few that remain in Moscow are a trivial few that are personally held by the highest Red officials.
“You have sought the Romanoff gems. I have brought one here to show you. Gaze upon the stone that gleams from my finger. That priceless girasol was once owned by the Czars of Russia. It, alone, of all the baubles in this room, is genuine!
“You ask of the Romanoff gems. I have seen many of them, in many places. With my knowledge and my power, I could assemble huge collections of them, if I sought such useless possessions. This girasol was a gift, which I accepted as a memento of friendship from the man who owned it.”
The Shadow paused, and not a sound disturbed the stillness of that vaulted room. The gleaming eyes were focused upon Froman and Noyes. The plotters stared in return, their glances wavering from the unchanging eyes to the ever-changing jewel upon The Shadow’s long white hand.
“Two schemers” — The Shadow’s voice was cold and slow — “who sought to gain vast wealth by joining sincere though rabid men with their cause. The restoration of the Romanoff gems was your pretended ideal. In reality, you sought gain for yourselves. You killed, to gain nothing. Your ignorance was pitiable.