“What if—” Doris thought to herself now. “But then of course that could never be.”
“And besides,” she added a moment later, “we’ll never see the monkey again, so how could we follow him?”
Then, because she was far from her home and her new found friend, Johnny Thompson, was near at hand, because the wild beat of the storm gave her a feeling of loneliness and a longing for someone to confide in, she told him of her day dreams, of her hope that she might find the monkey and follow him to the hiding place of the ancient treasure.
“There must be something to that story of the hidden treasure of the black Empress,” said Johnny quite soberly. “Of course there are many wild tales told of that romantic king of the blacks. This much is history. I read it in a book written six years after his death. When the emperor felt his throne crumbling beneath him he went one evening to the Citadel. There he worked until past midnight. At two o’clock in the morning he knocked at the door of one of his dukes, a trusted ally.
“The duchess opened the door and was frightened half out of her wits. The emperor said nothing was wrong. He required the service of the duke; that was all.
“The duke dressed, then accompanied him to the castle. At the back of the castle they entered a door to drag forth a strong box. It was all the two of them could do to lift it.
“Having carried it a little way they hid it, so the story goes. When the work was done the emperor explained to his ally that the box was filled with the queen’s treasures; that, if anything ever happened to him, there was enough there to support his family in comfort for many years.
“A few days more and the emperor was dead.” Johnny’s story was at an end.
“And the treasure?” Doris leaned eagerly forward trying to read his face in the half darkness.
“Who knows about that?” Johnny laughed a low laugh. “If we knew where it was hidden we would go for it. If that had been told in the book, the treasure would have been removed long ago.