"I think you are very generous," Gregory declared, with a certain contriteness in his tone.
"The adjective seems to me to demand explanation," Mr. Endacott ruminated.
"You know very well, sir," Gregory continued, "that there are circumstances which would have justified you in refusing this invitation and refusing to meet me anywhere."
"Ah!" Mr. Endacott murmured. "That affair of the Image, of course."
Claire rose to her feet. Gregory waved her back again.
"Please listen, Miss Endacott," he begged. "I want you to hear what I have to say. You know what happened?"
"I can assure you, sir," Gregory went on, "that when I left those extraordinary premises of yours, I meant to send you the thing straight back. I had one last look at it, however, and the longer I looked, the more uncertain I felt about the whole business. I kept telling myself that it was a debt of honour. Then I kept on finding poisonous ideas in my brain--ideas which I honestly believe I have never had before. I was parting with perhaps a great treasure just on the turn of a card--a Chinaman's turn of the card, too."
"You don't suggest," Mr. Endacott began----
"I suggest nothing," Gregory interrupted. "All I know is that my moral self--if I may use rather a grandiloquent term--was completely upset. I locked myself into my cabin with the Image. Soon after the ship sailed. Of course I know," he went on, "this must all sound stupidly inadequate, but there it is. Superstition or no superstition, I swear that that Image has an evil influence. I have proved it."
Claire looked thoughtfully up into the trees; her uncle stroked his chin with an air of profound meditation.
"Well," he enquired, "have you found the fortune yet?"
"Not yet," Gregory admitted. "My father has had an expert down and he can discover no trace of any hiding place in it."
"You must find that disappointing," he observed, "after all your efforts."
"If the jewels are not in this one," Gregory said, "they are probably in the other."
"If it is not an impertinent question, sir," he proceeded, "is it true that Johnson and Company are relinquishing the business?"
"The other Image is not for sale," Mr. Endacott said calmly.
"Well," Mr. Endacott confided, "the members of the firm were Wu Ling, a nebulous Mr. Johnson and myself. When I consider," he continued, "the extreme measures which you and your friend took to possess yourselves of these Images--measures, by the way, which may be justified by precedent but hardly by morality--I can scarcely, do you know, bring myself to reveal whether it is the domicile of Wu Ling, the possible mansion of Mr. Johnson in Alexandria, or my very conveniently near abode here, which might be indicated as the scene of your future adventures."
