It disappeared as though by witchcraft, and
the splash of light from the bull's-eye discovered a canvas bag
squatting humbly in the secret compartment: a fat little canvas
bag, considerably soiled from much handling, such as is used by
banks for coin, a sturdy, matter-of-fact, every-day sort of canvas
bag, with nothing about it of hauteur, no air of self-importance
or ostentation, to betray the fact that it was the receptacle of a
small fortune.
At Maitland's ear, incredulous, "How did you guess?" she breathed.
He took thought and breath, both briefly, and prevaricated
shamelessly: "Bribed the head-clerk of the safe-manufacturer who
built this."
Rising, he passed over to the center-table, the girl following.
"Steady with the light," he whispered; and loosed the string
around the mouth of the bag, pouring its contents, a glistening,
priceless, flaming, iridiscent treasure horde, upon the table.
"Oh!" said a small voice at his side. And again and again: "Oh!
Oh! Oh!"
Maitland himself was moved by the wonder of it. The jewels seemed
to fill the room with a flashing, amazing, coruscant glamour,
rainbow-like. His breath came hot and fast as he gazed upon the
trove; a queen's ransom, a fortune incalculable even to its owner.
As for the girl, he thought that the wonder of it must have struck
her dumb. Not a sound came from the spot where she stood.
Then, abruptly, the sun went out: at least, such was the effect;
the light of the hand-lamp vanished utterly, leaving a party-colored
blur swimming against the impenetrable blackness, before his eyes.
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