“So you’d rather that the treasure stayed buried?”

“Not exactly.  But he tossed ash from the end of his cigar to illustrate offhandedness.  “I think I could promise ten per cent. of it to whoever brought us exact information of its whereabouts before the maharajah could lay his hands on it.”

“I’ll tell that to my husband.”

“Do.”

“Of course, being in a way in partnership with Gungadhura, he might—­”

“Let me give you one word of caution, if I may without offense.  We—­ our government—­wouldn’t recognize the right of—­of any one to take that treasure out of the country.  Ten per cent. would be the maximum, and that only in case of accurate information brought in time to us.”

“Aren’t findings keepings?  Isn’t possession nine points of the law?” laughed Tess.

“In certain cases, yes.  But not where government knows of the existence somewhere of a hoard of public funds—­an enormous hoard—­it must run into millions.”

“Then, if the maharajah should find it would you take it from him?”

“No.  We would put the screws on, and force him to administer the fund properly if we knew about it.  But he’d never tell.”

“Then how d’you know he hasn’t found the stuff already?”

“Because many of his personal bills aren’t paid, and the political stormy petrels are not yet heading his way.  He’s handicapped by not being able to hunt for it openly.  Some ill-chosen confidant might betray the find to us.  I doubt if he trusts more than one or two people at a time.”

“It must be hell to be a maharajah!” Tess burst out after a minute’s silence.

“It’s sometimes hell to be commissioner, Mrs. Blaine.”

“If I were Gungadhura I’d find that money or bust!  And when I’d found it—­”

“You’d endow an orphan asylum, eh?”

“I’d make such trouble for you English that you’d be glad to leave me in peace for a generation!”

Samson laughed good-naturedly and twisted up the end of his mustache.

“Pon my soul, you’re a surprising woman!  So your sympathies are all with Gungadhura?”

“Not at all.  I think he’s a criminal!  He buys women, and tortures animals in an arena, and keeps a troupe of what he is pleased to call dancing-girls.  I’ve seen his eyes in the morning, and I suspect him of most of the vices in the calendar.  He’s despicable.  But if I were in his shoes I’d find that money and make it hot for you English!”

“Are you of Irish extraction, Mrs. Blaine?”

“No, indeed I’m not.  I’m Connecticut Yankee, and my husband’s from the West.  I don’t have to be Irish to think for myself, do I?”

Samson did not know whether or not to take her seriously, but recognized that his chance had gone that morning for the flirtation he had had in view—­ very mild, of course, for a beginning; it was his experience that most things ought to start quite mildly, if you hoped to keep the other man from stampeding the game.  Nevertheless, as a judge of situations, be preferred not to take his leave at that moment.  Give a woman the last word always, but be sure it is a question, which you leave unanswered.