There are no fruits here, as
you imagine. There are a few sovereigns, which you may have if you like;
and since you have called yourself a bandit--"
"Yaas!" drawled Mr. Jones. "That, rather than a swindler. Open warfare
at least!"
"Very good! Only let me tell you that there were never in the world two
more deluded bandits--never!"
Heyst uttered these words with such energy that Mr. Jones, stiffening
up, seemed to become thinner and taller in his metallic blue
dressing-gown against the whitewashed wall.
"Fooled by a silly, rascally innkeeper!" Heyst went on. "Talked over
like a pair of children with a promise of sweets!"
"I didn't talk with that disgusting animal," muttered Mr. Jones
sullenly; "but he convinced Martin, who is no fool."
"I should think he wanted very much to be convinced," said Heyst, with
the courteous intonation so well known in the Islands. "I don't want to
disturb your touching trust in your--your follower, but he must be the
most credulous brigand in existence. What do you imagine? If the story
of my riches were ever so true, do you think Schomberg would have
imparted it to you from sheer altruism? Is that the way of the world,
Mr. Jones?"
For a moment the lower jaw of Ricardo's gentleman dropped; but it came
up with a snap of scorn, and he said with spectral intensity:
"The beast is cowardly! He was frightened, and wanted to get rid of
us, if you want to know, Mr.
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