Colonel Quaritch, V.C.: A Tale of Country LifeHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
General
Colonel Quaritch, V.C.: A Tale of Country Life
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Country life -- Fiction; Pastoral fiction
Peace and goodwill! Ay and happiness to the children of men while their
span is, and hope for the Beyond, and heaven’s blessing on holy love
and all good things that are. This is what those liquid notes seemed to
say to the most happy pair who stood hand in hand in the vestibule and
thought on all they had escaped and all that they had won.
“Well, Quaritch, if you and Ida have quite done staring at each other,
which isn’t very interesting to a third party, perhaps you will not
mind telling us how you happened on old Sir James de la Molle’s hoard.”
Thus adjured, Harold began his thrilling story, telling the whole
history of the night in detail, and if his hearers had expected to be
astonished certainly their expectations were considerably more than
fulfilled.
“Upon my word,” said the Squire when he had done, “I think I am
beginning to grow superstitious in my old age. Hang me if I don’t
believe it was the finger of Providence itself that pointed out those
letters to you. Anyway, I’m off to see the spoil. Run and get your hat,
Ida, my dear, and we will all go together.”
And they went and looked at the chest full of red gold, yes, and passed
down, all three of them, into those chill presences in the bowels of
the Mount. Then coming thence awed and silent they sealed up the place
for ever.
CONCLUSION
GOOD-BYE
On the following morning such of the inhabitants of Boisingham as
chanced to be about were much interested to see an ordinary farm
tumbrel coming down the main street. It was being driven, or rather
led, by no less a person than George himself, while behind it walked
the well-known form of the old Squire, arm-in-arm with Colonel
Quaritch.
They were still more interested, however, when the tumbrel drew up at
the door of the bank—not Cossey’s, but the opposition bank—where,
although it was Boxing Day, the manager and the clerk were apparently
waiting for its arrival.
But their interest culminated when they perceived that the cart only
contained a few bags, and yet that each of these bags seemed to require
three or four men to lift it with any comfort.
Thus was the gold safely housed. Upon being weighed its value was found
to be about fifty-three thousand pounds of modern money. But as some of
the coins were exceedingly rare, and of great worth to museums and
collectors, this value was considerably increased, and the treasure was
ultimately sold for fifty-six thousand two hundred and fifty-four
pounds. Only Ida kept back enough of the choicest coins to make a gold
waistband or girdle and a necklace for herself, destined no doubt in
future days to form the most cherished heirloom of the Quaritch family.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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