"They are about half here in weight and number; about a quarter of
the value. There is a hundred thousand pounds worth missing!" said
the jewel dealer, gazing on the totals of numbers and weights.
"The historic diamonds, the matchless pearls, the never-equaled
rubies--all the choicest have been abstracted, and by a skillful
hand!"
"Go, then!" cried Willoughby. "Seal this in your breast! Speak to
no one or you'll die in jail, wearing irons! Here!" A hundred-pound
note was thrust into his hand, and he was whirled away to his shop.
"Ah! The gray devil! he has stolen and hidden the best! I will watch
him like a ghoul of Bowanee, and they shall be mine! He would turn
tail now and steal away!" Ram Lal laughed an oily laugh, and going
to an old cabinet, took out a heavy kreese. "The poisoned dagger of
Mirzah Shah!" he smiled. "After many years!" It was Hugh Johnstone
himself who sought Ram Lal in his pagoda that afternoon, and, after
making some heavy purchases, finally drew out a list of jewels.
"I wish you to certify, Ram Lal," he cautiously said, "that these
are all the jewels of Mirzah Shah, that you handled as 'Keeper of
the Prince's Treasure,' before the Meerut mutineers rushed down
upon us." Slowly peering over the paper, the crafty Ram Lal said:
"You forget, Sahib, that I was sent away to Lucknow and Cawnpore,
by Mirzah Shah, with letters to Nana Sahib and Tantia Topee.
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