“I want to go back free and unhampered to my country,” returned Dmitri, “with Yaranek. I want the rubies to be left unqualifiedly with Miss Trelango—”
“Dmitri, I do not want them!” Carlota cried entreatingly. “They only bring misery. You give them back for me to the people you love. They are not mine or the queen’s. They belong to the children who are starving.”
“The heirs of to-morrow?” smiled Dmitri whimsically. “I will gladly do so if it is your wish. Mr. Ward, you are fond of rubies. You are not interested as we are in international aspirations, shall we say, or perhaps ideals. It matters not one iota to you whether the money for these jewels goes to the royalist cause or to the feeding of those starving ones, those little victims of diplomacy, shall we call it? Will you buy these gems from Miss Trelango, and I will most gladly convey the consignment of gold to the little ones that are left alive.”
“Is this your wish?” asked Ward, looking at Carlota.
Her eyes overflowed with tears. She could hardly answer as she stood between the Marchese and Griffeth.
“I should love it more than anything,” she told him. “The Marchese will attend to everything for me if you are willing.”
Suddenly in the doorway stood Maria, alarmed and prepared to defend her charge at any price. But Dmitri met her with one of his low, courtly bows that soothed her pride.
“Signora, you are just in time. Mr. Ward is being the bountiful fairy godfather to us all. He grants us each one what we like the best. I have a rendezvous with a friend. Mr. Ward, after you. Carlota, Griffeth, I salute love immortal!”
Jauntily he gathered up the papers and wallet into the old brown leather bag again, and handed it to the Marchese.
“Will you not personally hold these until I have sailed, and then destroy them? I make you our neutral receiver, yes? And will you not also kindly place the jewels in safe-keeping until Mr. Ward has paid for them?”