Irene could not restrain a little gasp of wonderment at von Kerber's amazing catalogue. Her grandfather looked at her.
"You were wiser than I, little girl," he murmured. "You warned me that these people were deceiving me, yet I refused to listen."
"Oh, one has to follow the path that promises success," interrupted von Kerber savagely. "Had I told you these things you would have been the first to inform the Italian government. Why do you prate of deceit? Had we found the treasure, you must have seen everything. I only meant to hold you to your bond and demand my third share. Lieber Gott! if you were not a stiff-necked Englishman you would now, even at the twelfth hour, force these Italian hirelings to disgorge."
"Meaning that you advise a surprise march on Suleiman's Well, and the massacre of every person who resists as?" inquired Mr. Fenshawe, acidly impatient.
"Better that than turn back at the very threshold."
"Excellent! The voyage of the Aphrodite would then achieve an international fame which would survive the ages."
The blank despair in von Kerber's face won Royson's pity. He could not help sympathizing with him. And there was something to be said for his point of view. If Mrs. Haxton had given the true version of the finding of the papyrus, the Austrian's methods were comprehensible. Seldom has poverty been tempted by a vision of such enormous wealth.
"May I make a suggestion, sir?" he asked, seeing that no one was willing to resume a somewhat acrid conversation.
"As to the form of attack?"
Mr. Fenshawe was still amused by the idea of treating the Italians to a coup de main.