"Then we're suspected of hunting for this treasure? Is that the idea?"

"Not at all, since you've denied it. I believe you implicitly. But I hope
your husband doesn't stumble on it."

"Why?"

"Or if he does, that he'll see his way clear to notify me first."

"Would that be honest?"

He changed his mind. That was a point on which Samson prided himself.
He was not hidebound to one plan as some men are, but could keep
two or three possibilities in mind and follow up whichever suited him.
This was a case for indiscretion after all.

"Seeing we're alone, and that you're a most exceptional woman, I think
I'll let you into a diplomatic secret, Mrs. Blaine. Only you mustn't repeat it.
The present maharajah, Gungadhura, isn't the saving kind; he's a spender.
He'd give his eyes to get hold of that treasure. And if he had it, we'd
need an army to suppress him. We made a mistake when Bubru Singh
died; there were two nephews with about equal claims, and we picked
the wrong one--a born intriguer. I'd call him a rascal if he weren't a
reigning prince. It's too late now to unseat him--unless, of course, we
should happen to catch him in flagrante delicto."

"What does that mean? With the goods? With the treasure?"

"No, no. In the act of doing something grossly ultra vires--illegal, that's
to say. But you've put your finger on the point. If the treasure should