“A hundred,” yelled the small man, snapping his fingers.
“A hundred and five,” replied Xavier, triumphantly capping his bid.
Then with a curse his antagonist gave up also, and the mob shouted, thinking that Xavier had won.
“Knock her down, Pereira,” said Xavier in his turn, as he surveyed his prize with affected nonchalance.
“Wait a moment,” put in Leonard, speaking for the first time. “I am going to begin now. A hundred and ten.”
The multitude shouted again, the contest was growing exciting. Xavier glared at Leonard and bit his fingers with rage. He was very near his limit of possible expenditure.
“Now then,” cried Pereira, licking his lips for joy, since the price had already run twenty ounces higher than he expected, “Now then, friend Xavier, am I to knock down this beauty to the stranger captain Pierre? It sounds a lot, but she is cheap at the price, dirt cheap. Look at her and bid up. But mind, it is cash down—no credit, no, not for an ounce.”
“A hundred and fifteen,” said Xavier, with the air of a man making his last throw for fortune.
“A hundred and twenty,” replied Leonard quietly.
He had bid to the last ounce in his possession, and if Xavier went further he must give in, unless, indeed, he chose to offer Soa’s ruby in payment. This, needless to say, he was not anxious to do; moreover, no one would believe a stone of that size to be genuine. Of all this, however, Leonard showed nothing in his face, but turning coolly he called to a slave-girl to bring him spirits and busied himself with filling his glass. His hand never trembled, for he knew well that his antagonist was watching for a cue, and if he showed uncertainty all might be lost. But in his heart, Leonard wondered what he should do if another ounce was bid.