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Updated: June 10, 2025
Her answer puzzled Kendric for the moment, not so much the words as the tone. She spoke to Rios as one might speak to a dreaded master. "I am ready," was all that she said. And when Rios threw open the door for her, it was to Bruce that she said gently, her eyes melting into his, "A moment only, if Señor Rios will permit that I return so soon." And she went out, Rios at her heels.
Rather they stepped closer together, shoulder to shoulder, grim in their stubborn obedience to the orders they had been given. Sick of waiting and words and obstructions, Kendric bore down on them, vowing to go through though they might raise an outcry and double their strength. They were ready for him and stood up to him.
And if we meet anyone, Zoraida, you'd best think back a few minutes before you start anything." There was no one in the patio and they went through swiftly and out at the far side into the garden. Kendric filled his lungs with the sweet air that was beginning to grow cool. The glitter of the stars was to him like a hope and a promise. Never had he been so sick of four walls and a smothering roof.
It was mostly of Bruce that he thought just then. "One hand of cards?" said Barlow. "Rather one card, my friend," said Kendric drily. "We are keeping a lady waiting." "Oh!" gasped Betty. A shining pyramid was made of the gold pieces. Then the cards were shuffled and one of the serving men was called forward. He dealt one card to each of the four men, face down, and stepped back.
"Why must we separate now, after we have become so dear to each other?" I asked. "Something has happened to change your purpose since I have been ill tell me what it is." "To speak frankly, Kendric, I must say that the world has sadly disappointed me. It is full of vanity and deceit and selfishness. Every day brings to me some hideous revelation which the mercy of heaven has hidden from others.
Her face was set, her attitude was no longer cringing. In such tender breasts as Betty's have beat the steady hearts of martyrs. When she saw Jim Kendric and Zoraida standing before her she stared incredulously. She was in a daze. Her first wild thought, reflecting itself unmistakably in her wide eyes, was that they had come to taunt her, he and she side by side.
Again Zoraida pointed; on the stone lay the ancient knife, a blade of "itztli," obsidian, dark, translucent, as hard as flint, a product of volcanic fires. Kendric turned from stone and knife and human relics and looked with strange new wonder at Zoraida. She claimed kin with the royalty of this ancient order; perhaps her claim was just.
After the sound died away a hush remained and through men's memories the cadences repeated themselves like lingering echoes. Kendric himself stared at her wonderingly, not knowing why her hidden look stirred him so, not knowing why there should be a spell worked by five quiet words. Nor did he find the spell entirely pleasant; as her look had done, so now her speech vaguely disturbed him.
Kendric spent lavishly and at the end was highly satisfied with the result. As the New Moon staggered out to sea under an offshore blow, he and Twisty Barlow foregathered in the cabin over the solitary luckily smuggled bottle of champagne. "The day is auspicious," said Kendric, his rumpled hair on end, his eyes as bright as the dancing water slapping against their hull.
Kendric followed him and laid a restraining hand upon his shoulder. "Easy, old boy," he said quietly. Barlow started at the touch of his hand and stood frowning and fingering his forelock. "I know what's burning hot in your fancies. Remember they may be paste, after all. And anyway they're not treasure trove." "You mean those pearls might be fake?" Barlow laughed strangely.
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