“‘The Rope of Gold’,” the little doctor was saying, “was never in the Citadel. When the black Emperor Christophe found himself paralyzed beyond hope of recovery, and all but deserted by his people, he committed suicide. There were certain members of his household who remained loyal to him. Among these was the bearer of the telescope.
“Knowing the hiding place of the ‘Rope of Gold’ within the palace and fearing the destruction of the palace, he called to his aid a handful of his own hill people and carried it, not to the Citadel, but to—” he paused to look up at the ceiling, “to this place.”
Instantly there came to Johnny’s mind a picture of the golden green snake that hung from the cave’s ceiling. This was not the room but for all that he seemed to see it dangling there. “That,” he told himself, “is the ‘Rope of Gold’.”
As if to verify this conclusion, the doctor went on:
“For more than a century that ‘Rope of Gold’, with all its matchless workmanship in green, white and yellow gold, has hung within the shadows of this dingy cave.
“To-morrow, Providence permitting, it will again see the light of day.”
His young companions leaned forward, eager for the rest of the story.
“When I heard of your search and its purpose,” his voice went on quietly, “to benefit thousands of the simple and kindly peasants of Haiti, I thought once more of my duty regarding the ‘Rope of Gold’. I had known of its whereabouts for many years, knew, too, that its secret was loyally kept.
“But now the only relative of the bearer of the Magic Telescope was passing. A few more months, weeks, perhaps days, and he would be gone. Who, then, would guard the secret?
“I decided that the time had come for putting the wealth represented by the heirloom of the past to work.