"Congratulations," said the centipede. "We are getting on. You wanted badly to shudder, and you didn't. We shall make something of you yet. My old friend the bookworm—who lives in your father's library, by the way—has recently supplied me with a new quotation from the great poet Virgil, who had once, you may remember, quite a reputation as a magician. It was to the effect that if you couldn't get what you wanted by beginning at the top, you should start again at the bottom. I am the bottom. I am not the very bottom, but I am near enough to it for your purpose. Now you see what you have gained by not killing me."
"I don't see anything yet, I'm afraid," said Fiona.
"One must have patience with weaker vessels," said the centipede. "So I will explain. My friend the bookworm, who supplies me with my quotations, has a cousin of the same profession in the library at the big house. It was through him that I got the story I am going to tell you about the fat man."
"Mr. Johnson!" exclaimed Fiona. "He has nothing to do with me." She disliked Jeconiah heartily, so far as she had given any thought to him.
"Oh, yes, he has," said the centipede. "This is where I come in. My bookworm's cousin, who is a great linguist and understands English perfectly, was at work in the library the other evening, and the fat man was having his coffee there. After coffee he lit a cigar and began to walk up and down, and presently he started talking to himself out loud, as my informant says he often does when he is excited. And by piecing his talk together, my informant made out that he had the map of the Scargill cave, which one of your ancestors once gambled away, and that somehow or other he had found out that the cave of the map was the Scargill cave, and that he was only waiting for a smooth day to go and locate the treasure."
"Well?" said Fiona.
"Oh, come now," said the centipede, "it's no use pretending. We all know that you are treasure-hunting—remember we can all understand everything you say, whether we are linguists or not—and my advice to you is, to be quick about it, before the fat man can get his oar in."
"Thank you so much," said Fiona. "And I am so sorry I began by being rude. Tell me, why have you told me all this when I began by being rude?"
"Because I am a model of the more unselfish virtues, of course," said the centipede with a suppressed chuckle. "As a fact, I had an earth-phone from headquarters. But we are all backing you, you know. And now will you put me down, please; the upper air is chilly."
He wriggled into a crack in the ground, and was gone.