He
wouldn't be likely to be cleverer than I am."
"And what do you know about yourself?"
Mr Jones seemed to watch his follower's perplexities with amusement
concealed in a death-like composure.
Ricardo disregarded the question. The material vision of the spoil
absorbed all his faculties. A great vision! He seemed to see it. A few
small canvas bags tied up with thin cord, their distended rotundity
showing the inside pressure of the disk-like forms of coins--gold,
solid, heavy, eminently portable. Perhaps steel cash-boxes with a chased
design, on the covers; or perhaps a black and brass box with a handle
on the top, and full of goodness knows what. Bank notes? Why not? The
fellow had been going home; so it was surely something worth going home
with.
"And he may have put it anywhere outside--anywhere!" cried Ricardo in a
deadened voice, "in the forest--"
That was it! A temporary darkness replaced the dim light of the room.
The darkness of the forest at night and in it the gleam of a lantern, by
which a figure is digging at the foot of a tree-trunk. As likely as not,
another figure holding that lantern--ha, feminine! The girl!
The prudent Ricardo stifled a picturesque and profane exclamation,
partly joy, partly dismay. Had the girl been trusted or mistrusted by
that man? Whatever it was, it was bound to be wholly! With women there
could be no half-measures.
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