"They are here, eh!" exclaimed Gregory, approaching the hearth, skipping among the flasks of the doctor, and seizing one of them, but he had the sense to choose alcohol, and dragging it from its case, sipped away at it till there was not a drop of it left.
"Leave a little in it, you dog!" yelled the doctor, snatching the flask away from him, "don't drink it all!"
"I'll drink up the whole shop, but speak I won't unless I like."
The doctor perceived that he had met his match.
"Then will you speak before Feriz Beg?" he asked.
"I'll speak the whole truth then."
So there was nothing for it but to open Feriz Beg's door before Gregory and shove him inside.
Feriz Beg was sitting there on a couch, a feverish flush was burning upon his pale face; he still held the jewel in his hand, and his eyes were fastened upon it; just such a similar clasp he had given to Aranka Béldi when they were both children together.
"How did you come by this jewel?" inquired Feriz in a soft, mournful voice.
"She to whom you gave it gave it to me that you might believe she sent me to you."