"Here is the bond," said Don Luis, "and here is the letter. It is dated April of this year."
Véronique was astounded. She looked at Don Luis and the thought occurred to her that all this was perhaps merely a story invented by that strange man to place her and her son beyond the reach of want. It was a passing thought. When all was considered, it was a natural consequence. Everything said, M. d'Hergemont's action was very reasonable; and, foreseeing the difficulties that would crop up after his death, it was only right that he should think of his grandson. She murmured:
"I have not the right to refuse."
"You have so much the less right," said Don Luis, "in that the transaction excludes you altogether. Your father's wishes affect François and Stéphane directly. So we are agreed. There remains the God-Stone; and I repeat my question. What are we to do with it? To whom does it belong?"
"To you," said Véronique, definitely.
"To me?"
"Yes, to you. You discovered it and you have given it a real signification."
"I must remind you," said Don Luis, "that this block of stone possesses, beyond a doubt, an incalculable value. However great the miracles wrought by nature may be, it is only through a wonderful concourse of circumstances that she was able to perform the miracle of collecting so much precious matter in so small a volume. There are treasures and treasures there."
"So much the better," said Véronique, "you will be able to make a better use of them than any one else."
Don Luis thought for a moment and added: