“What is the amount?” she asked in a low eager voice.
“I have been unable to calculate exactly, but, speaking roughly, it cannot be under fifty thousand pounds, estimated on the value of the gold alone. Here is a specimen of it,” and Harold pulled out a handful of rials and other coins, and poured them on to the table.
Ida hid her face in her hand, and Edward Cossey realising what this most unexpected development of events might mean for him, began to tremble.
“I should not allow myself to be too much elated, Mr. de la Molle,” he said with a sneer, “for even if this tale be true, it is treasure trove, and belongs to the Crown.”
“Ah,” said the Squire, “I never thought of that.”
“But I have,” answered the Colonel quietly. “If I remember right, the last of the original de la Molles left a will in which he especially devised this treasure, hidden by his father, to your ancestor. That it is the identical treasure I am fortunately in a position to prove by this parchment,” and he laid upon the table the writing he had found with the gold.
“Quite right—quite right,” said the Squire, “that will take it out of the custom.”
“Perhaps the Solicitor to the Treasury may hold a different opinion,” said Cossey, with another sneer.
Just then Ida took her hand from her face. There was a dewy look about her eyes, and the last ripples of a happy smile lingered round the corners of her mouth.
“Now that we have heard what Colonel Quaritch had to say,” she said in her softest voice, and addressing her father, “there is no reason why we should not finish our business with Mr. Cossey.”