Armorel of Lyonesse: A Romance of To-dayBesant, Walter
General
Armorel of Lyonesse: A Romance of To-day
Besant, Walter
Fraud -- Fiction; Isles of Scilly (England) -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
'Really,' said Alec, now completely recovered, 'I am overwhelmed with
this stroke of luck. It is the most unexpected thing in the world. I
could never have dreamed of such a thing. To find out, on the same
day, that one's great-grandfather once made a fortune and lost it, and
that it has been recovered, and that it is all given to me--it
naturally takes one's breath away at first.'
'You would like to gaze upon this fortune from the Ruby Mines of
Burmah, would you not?' Mr. Jagenal threw open the door of a safe, and
took out a parcel in brown paper. 'It is here.' He opened the parcel,
and disclosed the shagreen case which we have already seen in the
sea-chest. He laid it on the table, and unrolled the silk in which the
stones were rolled. 'There they are--look common enough, don't they?
One seems to have picked up stones twice as pretty on the sea-shore:
here are two or three cut and polished--bits of red glass would look
as pretty.'
'Thirty-five thousand pounds!' Alec cried, laying a hand, as if in
episcopal benediction, upon the treasure. 'Is it possible that this
little bundle of stones should be worth so much?'
'Quite possible. Now--they are yours--what will you do with them.'
'First, I will ask you to put them back in the safe.'
'I will send them to your bank if you please.'
'No--keep them here--I will consult you immediately about their
disposition. Thirty-five thousand pounds! Thirty-five----perhaps we
may get more for them. What am I to say to this girl? Perhaps when she
learns who has got the rubies she will refuse to let them go. I am
sure she would never consent.'
'Nonsense--about persecution and annoyance! Armorel hate you? Why
should she hate you? The sweetest girl in the world. You men of genius
are too ready to take offence. The things are yours. I have given them
to you by her instructions. I have written you a letter, formally
conveying the jewels to you. Here it is. And now go home, my dear
fellow, and when you feel like taking a holiday, do it with a tranquil
mind, remembering that you've got fourteen hundred pounds a year given
you for nothing at all by this young lady, who wasn't obliged to give
you a penny. Why, in surrendering these jewels, she has surrendered a
good half of her whole fortune. Find me another girl, anywhere, who
would give up half her fortune for a scruple. And now go away, and
tell your wife. Let her rejoice. Tell her it is Armorel's wedding
present.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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