“Yes; you asked to see the King of the San Blas. Then you wish something. I am the King.”
Bryonia hesitated.
“We wish to see all things,” said he, slowly, “and so we crave permission to visit the different parts of your country, that we may observe what it is like.”
“Just as a matter of curiosity?”
“Of course, my brother.”
A chalk mark.
“Do you love gold?” asked the king, abruptly.
“No, we do not care for gold.”
“Not at all?”
“Not in the least.”