It was a solemn moment. The four men were standing close together, like acquaintances who have met in the course of a walk and who stop for a minute to exchange their news. Valenglay, leaning with one arm on the parapet overlooking the lower quay, had his face turned to the river and kept raising and lowering his cane above the sand-heap. Patrice and M. Masseron stood silent, with faces a little set. Don Luis gave a laugh: "Don't be too sure, monsieur le président," he said, "that I shall make the gold rise from the ground with a magic wand or show you a cave in which the bags lie stacked. I always thought those words, 'the golden triangle,' misleading, because they suggest something mysterious and fabulous. Now according to me it was simply a question of the space containing the gold, which space would have the shape of a triangle. The golden triangle, that's it: bags of gold arranged in a triangle, a triangular site. The reality is much simpler, therefore; and you will perhaps be disappointed." "I sha'n't be," said Valenglay, "if you put me with my face towards the eighteen hundred bags of gold." "You're that now, sir." "What do you mean?" "Exactly what I say. Short of touching the bags of gold, it would be difficult to be nearer to them than you are." For all his self-control, Valenglay could not conceal his surprise: "You are not suggesting, I suppose, that I am walking on gold and that we have only to lift up the flags of the pavement or to break down this parapet?" "That would be removing obstacles, sir, whereas there is no obstacle between you and what you are seeking." "No obstacle!" "None, monsieur le président, for you have only to make the least little movement in order to touch the bags." "The least little movement!" said Valenglay, mechanically repeating Don Luis' words. "I call a little movement what one can make without an effort, almost without stirring, such as dipping one's stick into a sheet of water, for instance, or . . ." "Or what?" "Well, or a heap of sand." Valenglay remained silent and impassive, with at most a slight shiver passing across his shoulders. He did not make the suggested movement. He had no need to make it. He understood. The others also did not speak a word, struck dumb by the simplicity of the amazing truth which had suddenly flashed upon them like lightning. And, amid this silence, unbroken by protest or sign of incredulity, Don Luis went on quietly talking: