“You mustn’t mind what he says; he’s a bit off his chump, poor chap.”
“From what I can see there seems to be a bit off him elsewhere besides the chump.”
“Oh, he’s lived a queer life. Been cut to pieces, stewed in oil, and I don’t know what. He’s a tough ’un. It’s a miracle he’s alive. I thought he was dead years ago. When I first knew him he was a finer man than me.”
Mr. Batters had brought us to an apartment which seemed to be used as a repository for the treasures of the temple. The room was not a large one, but it was as full as it could hold. Curios were on every hand. Trading in Eastern seas I had seen something of things of the kind; I knew that those I saw there had value. There were images, ornaments, vessels of all sorts, and shapes, and sizes, apparently of solid gold. He lifted the lid of a lacquered case.
“You see that? That’s dust—gold dust. There are more than twenty cases full of it, worth at least a thousand pounds apiece. You see those?” He was holding up another box for my inspection. “Those are diamonds, rubies, pearls, sapphires, opals, and turquoises.
“Real?”
“Real!” he screamed. “They’re priceless! unique! They’re offerings which the faithful have made to me, the Great Joss. They come from men and women who are the greatest and the richest in the land. Do you think they would dare to offer me imitations? If they were guilty of such sacrilege I would destroy them root and branch. And they know it!” The creature snarled like some great cat. “I know something of stones, and I tell you you won’t find finer gems in any jeweller’s shop in London—nor any as fine.” He waved his arms. “You won’t match the things you see here in all Europe—not in kings’ palaces nor in national museums. I know,
