“The truth?”—perplexedly.
“Yes—where Cunningham will get his pearls?”—bitterly.
“Oh!”
“And I could not touch him. A quarter of a million! And with his knowledge of the secret marts he could easily dispose of them. Worth a bold stroke, eh?”
“But how will he get them off the yacht—transship them?”
Her faith in Cunningham began to waver. A quarter of a million! The thought was as bells in her ears.
“Of the outside issues I have no inkling. But I have shown you his pearls.”
“But the crew! Certainly they will not return to any port with us. And why should he lie to 199 me? There is no reason in the world why he shouldn’t have told me, if he had committed piracy to obtain your paintings. And he was poring over maps.”
“Some tramp is probably going to pick him up. He’s ordered us away from the wireless. Cunningham must have his joke, so he is beguiling you with twaddle about hunting pearls. He is robbing me of my treasures, and I can’t strike back on that count. But I can land him in prison on the count of piracy; and by the Lord Harry, I’ll do it if it takes my last dollar! He’ll rue this adventure, or they call me Tungsten for nothing!”
“I wanted so to believe in him!”