“Then why should they make one of their most powerful ju-jus like a monkey?”
I imagine that for a moment Schwartz really forgot where he was. His eyes bulged forward, his face grew red, and big veins stood out on his forehead.
“What—do you—know about it?” he gasped, glaring at her as though he wanted to run round the table and wring her neck.
“Nothing,” she answered meekly. “That is why I am asking you.”
“But you have some motive. Such a question is impossible coming from a child. Who told you anything of a ju-ju resembling a monkey?” Schwartz was almost shouting now, and the Old Man gave Mam an imploring glance. Mam tried to press Minkie’s toes under the table, but Minkie just tucked her legs beneath her chair out of harm’s way, and not a soul could catch her eye, because she and Schwartz were looking straight at each other.
“After the affair last night I read about ju-jus and fetishism in the Encyclopædia,” she said. “That was very interesting, but I really had in my mind what Jack—I mean Captain Stanhope—told me to-day. Prince John assures him that if the ju-ju you took from his people is not sent back before the spring rains there will be a rebellion in that country. So I felt certain it must be a monkey-headed one, made of ivory, with a little beaded skirt, as that is the most powerful ju-ju known among the Kwantus.”
I wonder Schwartz did not leap at her there and then. His eyes positively glittered. He exercised all his powers to regain his self-control, but his hands shook, and there was a curious tremor in his voice.
“This information is, indeed, valuable to me,” he said, dropping his tone to the ordinary level again. “No, I beg of you, Grosvenor, let Millicent continue. Do I gather that Captain Stanhope is in league with the negro thief who made his way to my room last night?”
“Did I say that?” inquired Minkie, smiling at Schwartz in a way that those who knew her dreaded.
“You implied it. Evidently your military friend enjoys Prince John’s confidence.”