Further investigation proved that Lady Olivia had another that was almost, if not quite, the equal of the first, as well as three others of somewhat smaller size, but equal beauty of colour; and when, presently, the professor proceeded to examine Sir Reginald’s find, it became at once apparent that the rubies to be found in this particular locality were likely to prove exceptionally valuable from their extreme richness of colour.
“And these,” exclaimed von Schalckenberg, enthusiastically, “are the results of but a few hours’ search! Surely there must be a ruby mine of almost fabulous richness somewhere close at hand. Now is the time for me to acquire a little of that wealth of which I am in such urgent need.”
And, raising his hat to Lady Olivia, he turned away. But it was presently noticed that, instead of examining the pebbles on the beach, as the rest were doing, he went straight to the foot of the low cliff at the upper edge of the beach, scrutinising its face very closely, and foot by foot, as he passed slowly along it. When last particularly noticed, he was seen to be apparently digging into the soil of the cliff-face, here and there, with his pocket-knife.
At length the sound of a gong beaten on board the Flying Fish gave notice that afternoon tea was ready for whosoever chose to partake of that refreshment; and the two ladies and little Ida—all three of whom held the institution in great respect—at once gladly turned their steps toward the ship, for they were fatigued and hot with their unwonted exertions, and felt that a cup of tea was precisely what they needed for their restoration. The men of the party, also, had by this time drifted almost insensibly into the habit of joining the ladies at this function; thus it came to pass that within the half-hour the entire party had gathered beneath the awnings, and, ensconced in comfortable basket chairs, were leisurely sipping the fragrant cup that is said to cheer and certainly does not inebriate, while they discussed in desultory fashion their afternoon’s experiences, and compared their finds. All, that is to say, with the exception of von Schalckenberg, who, in his usual absent-minded way, was to be seen, about a mile distant, still prodding and poking at the cliff-face as industriously and with as deep an absorption as though so important a function as afternoon tea was quite unknown to him.
“Let us call the beggar up with one of his own telephones,” said Lethbridge, in response to some remark of Lady Olivia’s anent the professor’s absorption. “If we don’t he will stay there until darkness falls, and then wonder how the dickens he got there. Here, Ida, come you and call up the professor, sweetheart; he will perhaps listen to you, though it is very doubtful whether he would to me.” And, drawing his telephone from his pocket, he pressed the button, while Ida—with whom the ex-colonel was a great favourite—came and stood obediently by his side. As usual, everybody else’s telephone, as well as all the bells in the ship, at once started ringing.
“Now,” continued Lethbridge, gravely, “that is the fault that I have to find with these otherwise wonderfully clever contrivances of von Schalckenberg’s. You want to communicate with a certain person by means of your own instrument, and you at once attract the attention of everybody else who happens to possess one. I must remember to ask the worthy man if he cannot remedy that defect. Ah, there he is,” as the bells ceased for a moment to tinkle. “Now then, Ida, put this in your ear, and then tell the professor, through that mouthpiece, that afternoon tea is on.”
The child at once did so, calling into the receiver—
“Professor, Professor, can you hear me?”
“Oh yes, of course I can,” replied the professor’s voice. “What is the matter, my dear?”
“Tea is ready!” proclaimed Ida, shortly.