"That is true enough," Surajah agreed. "But we must not be impatient. Fortune has befriended us marvellously, and I have great faith that it will continue to do so. We must be content to wait." "Yes, I know that, Surajah, but I think it is all the more difficult to do so, because we have done so much in a short time. It seems as if one ought to go on at the same rate." That evening they went down, as they had arranged, with ordinary wraps round their gay attire, to Pertaub's, taking with them the caskets of gems. The Hindoo received them warmly. "I saw you ride through the streets this morning, although you did not notice me. Truly, you made a good appearance, and were well mounted. I have heard from one of our people, who is a servant in the Palace, that you stand in high favour." "We have brought you down these two caskets of gems," Dick said. "They were given us by the ladies of the harem, and many of the stones, Surajah thinks, are very valuable. We don't know what to do with them, and wanted to know whether you could arrange to send them down to Tripataly for us." "I would not undertake to do so, if they are valuable," Pertaub said. "The prospects of fresh troubles are stronger every day, and the roads are so closely watched, especially those through the passes, that it would be running a terrible risk to trust valuables to anyone." "In that case, Pertaub, we thought you might bury them in the ground under your house. But first, look at some of the stones, and tell us what you think of them." The Hindoo opened Surajah's casket, and undid many of the little parcels. "Assuredly they are valuable," he said. "Some of them much more so than others; but if all are like these that I have opened, they must be worth at least fifty thousand rupees." "Now look at this casket, Pertaub." The Hindoo uttered an exclamation of surprise, as he opened some of the packets, and, taking out some of the larger gems, he examined them by the light of his lamp. "I could not place a value on these," he said at last. "The ladies must, indeed, have felt that they owed their lives to you. The gems are a fortune. Doubtless they are the spoils of a score of districts, and Tippoo must have distributed them lavishly among his wives, or they could never have made such rich presents. I would bury them, Sahib, for surely they could not be entrusted even to the most faithful messengers, in times like these. But though, if you like, I will hide them here, I think it would be far safer for you to take them across the river, and bury them in a wood, marking well the trees, that you may know the place again; for although methinks Tippoo's agents believe that they have squeezed the last rupee from me, one can never tell--I might again be tortured, and none can say that they are brave enough to bear the agonies that Tippoo's executioners inflict.