To Darragh, in a perplexed, unsteady voice: "Is it the same bandit who robbed us before?"
"Yes; Quintana," he said wretchedly. Rage began to redden his features.
"Ricca," he said, "I promised I'd find your jewels. … I promise you
again that I'll never drop this business until your gems — and the
Flaming Jewel — are in your possession——"
"But, Jim——"
"I swear it!" he exclaimed violently. "I'm not such a stupid fool as I seem——"
"Dear!" she protested excitedly, "you have done what you promised. My gems are in my possession — I believe——"
She caught up the emblazoned case, stripped out the first tray, then the second, and flung them aside. Then, searching with the delicate tip of her forefinger in the empty case, she suddenly pressed the bottom hard, — thumb, middle finger and little finger forming the three apexes of an equilateral triangle.
There came a clear, tiny sound like the ringing of the alarm in a repeating watch. Very gently the false bottom of the case detached itself and came away in the palm of her hand.
And there, each embedded in its own shaped compartment of chamois, lay the Esthonian jewels — the true ones — deep hidden, always doubly guarded by two sets of perfect imitations lining the two visible trays above.
And, in the centre, blazed the Erosite gem — the magnificent Flaming
Jewel, a glory of living, blinding fire.
Nobody stirred or spoke. Darragh blinked at the crystalline blaze as though stunned.