“This is the second time you have interfered in matters which are no business of yours, young man. And you have interfered in a manner which will undoubtedly compel us to give you a well-merited lesson. The first time, at Gueures, after leading my friends into a trap, you took possession of an object which belonged to us; and that in ordinary language is known as larceny. To-day your aggression is even more impudent, since you come and insult us to our faces, without the least excuse, knowing perfectly well that we did not steal those rings, but that they were handed over to us. Do you mind telling us what you mean by it?”
“You know quite well that there has been no larceny, nor aggression on my part,” said Ralph firmly. “I have only acted in a manner entirely natural in one who is aiming at the same goal as you yourselves.”
“Indeed, you are aiming at the same goal as we are, are you?” said Beaumagnan in a slightly sneering tone. “And what may that goal be?”
“The discovery of the ten thousand precious stones hidden in the block of granite.”
Beaumagnan was indeed taken aback; and clumsily enough he showed it plainly by his air of astonished consternation and his gaping silence.
Thereupon Ralph drove his attack home, saying: “Doesn’t it follow that since the four of us are seeking the incalculable treasure of the old monasteries, when our paths cross we come into collision? That’s what must happen.”
The treasure of the monasteries! The block of granite! The ten thousand precious stones! To Beaumagnan each phrase was the stroke of a hammer. Here was another rival to be dealt with! The Countess of Cagliostro out of the way, at once another competitor enters the race for the millions!
Godfrey d’Etigues and de Bennetot exchanged ferocious glances and expanded their chests in the manner of athletes about to plunge into a contest. Beaumagnan stiffened in his chair in his effort to recover his coolness. He felt that he would need it all.
“Legends!” he cried scornfully, striving to keep his voice steady and pick up the dropped thread of his ideas. “Old women’s gossip! Nursery tales! Is that what you waste your time on?”
“No more than you,” said Ralph in a pleasant tone, not wishing Beaumagnan to recover his balance but rather to upset him yet more thoroughly. “Everything you do has some connection or other with this treasure. And not more than the Cardinal de Bonnechose did. I suppose his memorandum was old women’s gossip. Not more than the dozen friends, of whom you are the leader and inspirer, do.”