At length Lady Olivia looked up.
“Has nobody a suggestion to make?” she asked, with a smile. “Then I will make one that I think will be sympathetically received by at least one of us—yourself, my dear Feodorovna. I have long had the wish to possess a really fine set of pearls, not the kind that one can go into any jeweller’s shop and buy, you know, but something quite out of the common; and it appears to me that this voyage of ours affords just the opportunity for somebody to fish those pearls up for me from the bottom of the sea. And I dare say that your papa—or somebody else—would be quite willing to do the same for you, dear. What do you say?”
“What do I say?” repeated the lovely young Russian. “Why, that I simply adore pearls.”
“Then, I think, Reginald, that you have your answer,” said Lady Olivia, turning to her husband.
“All right, dear,” he answered. “Pearl-fishing will suit me down to the ground; and if the ocean holds pearls enough to satisfy you, you shall have them. Now, Professor—Mildmay—where must we go in order to get those pearls? For, of course, we must go to some definite spot to look for them; we can’t go grubbing along the sea-bottom at random until we happen to stumble upon a bed of pearl-oysters, you know.”
“The most famous pearl-fishing grounds are situated in the Persian Gulf and off the coast of Ceylon,” answered Mildmay. “And I believe,” he added, “that in both cases they are Government property, and strictly preserved. But I have no doubt there are plenty of oyster-beds which are beyond the reach of the ordinary pearl-diver; and it is one of those that we must seek. We shall not be poaching on anybody’s preserves if we do this; and shall also stand a better chance of securing some good specimens.”
“Before you come to any definite decision, I should like to refer to a rather interesting manuscript book that I have in my cabin—the book that I recovered from the sunken wreck of the Daedalus, under circumstances which, perhaps, yet remain in your memory,” observed von Schalckenberg, addressing Sir Reginald. “I seem to remember,” he continued, “having come across a passage in it relating to a bed of pearl-oysters of immense value, the situation of which was then unknown to any one except the writer. If you will excuse me a moment, I will go and fetch it.”
“By all means,” said Sir Reginald. “From what you say, Professor, it would appear that the bed to which you refer is the identical one we want to find.”
The professor accordingly retreated; and presently returned with a small, leather-bound, and much discoloured book in his hand. His forefinger was between the pages, and he opened the book there.
“Yes,” he said, “I thought I was not mistaken. Here is the passage, under the heading of ‘Pearls. In Longitude 155 degrees 32 minutes 17 seconds East, and exactly under the Equator, there exists a small atoll, unnamed, and, I believe, unknown, unless it be to the natives of Matador and Greenwich Islands, which are in its neighbourhood. The islet, which is uninhabited, is little more than a mere rock, about a quarter of a mile long, and some fifty feet wide, over which the sea makes a clean breach in heavy weather; but the lagoon is about five miles long and three miles wide, with good anchorage for ships in a pretty uniform depth of ten fathoms. Two miles due west of this island there is a shoal, some seven miles long, by from two to four miles wide, with twenty-eight feet of water over it. And this shoal is almost entirely covered with pearl-oysters, yielding some of the finest and most perfect gems that I have ever seen.’ Now, what think you of that, my friend. Is that good enough for you?” demanded the professor.