Allen and Isobel, who for three years or so had seen no gold except an occasional stray half-sovereign, stared as though hypnotized; but Alf was the most astonished of the three. Nobody seemed capable of speaking a word. Mustapha, interpreting their silence to mean that the sum offered was not large enough, signed to the second slave; and the glittering heap was forthwith doubled.
"But," said Allen at last, recovering his power of speech with an effort, "we—we can't take this. You know we can't."
"No, sir," agreed Alf unhappily. "It's all a mistake. 'Ere, Farr, this won't do, you know."
"Verily, master, if thou didst offer to this merchant all the gold that is in the six bags, it would not be an over-payment; for verily mine eyes have not looked upon so fair a slave."
He signed once more, and the four remaining bags were emptied on to the pile.
"Heavens," said Isobel, suddenly realizing Mustapha's meaning, "he thinks...."
"Yes, confound him, he does," replied Allen indignantly. "Not much doubt about the Oriental there!" He glanced angrily at the puzzled Mustapha. "While as for the question of gold-hoarding...."
Alf caught the last word.
"S'welp me, sir," he said earnestly, "I never knew 'e 'ad it, I swear I didn't. 'Ere, Farr, where the blue blazes did you get all this coin from? Don't you know there's a war on?"
"Lord," replied Mustapha with pardonable pride, and not comprehending in the least what the true position was, "this is but the smallest part of the riches that lie heaped in thy treasury, the full extent whereof no man may count. Therefore chaffer not with this merchant, but pay him that which he asks; for in truth the maid is passing fair. Her lips...."