At last we came to the culvert.
There we left the rifles, bestowing them under the arch. And then, without more ado, we all climbed into the Rolls, and Carson drove us to Villach as fast as he could.
There we only waited to take up the second car: and Bell was set to drive this, because, after Carson, he was the least fatigued.
Ten miles short of Salzburg we stopped; and, when we had done what we could to order our appearance, we emptied the Rolls’ toolbox and packed within it so much of the treasure as we could make it hold. It was a capacious coffer, but, when it was full, there still remained a good deal: most of this we hid in the tire of one of the two spare wheels, and what was still left we concealed about ourselves.
All this because of the Customs: for we knew very well that, if it was found at a frontier that we were laden with jewels, we should be certainly stopped and those in authority informed.
And here, for the first time, I perceived that, though we had lifted the treasure, we stood in imminent danger of losing every ounce; for, if once its existence came to the knowledge of the State, all the resources of the Law would be employed to prevent six foreigners from abducting so considerable a fortune.
This peril shocked me so much that I besought Mansel to wait and to let us dispose the treasure in some less conspicuous place. But he would not listen.
“I dare not wait,” said he, “because of Rose Noble. I’m not afraid of him, because now we’ve had some sleep: but I don’t want a brush with him in a public place. Whatever the outcome was, explanations would have to be made. And we’re not in a position to explain. Nobody is, when he’s carrying stuff like this. As for the Customs, we’ve as good a chance there today as we should have next week. I shan’t enjoy the passage, but it’s got to be made. As far as the toolbox is concerned, I’ll give you an excellent rule: if you’ve something to hide, always hide it in the most obvious place. And now don’t worry. If you can’t go to sleep, look inexpressibly bored. And please try not to perspire. Perspiration is the emblem of an uneasy mind.”
If that was a true saying, the officials who dealt with us were an inobservant lot, for, while they examined the Rolls, the sweat ran down my face. But Mansel paid the dues with an injured air, and, after a little delay, they let us pass.
So we entered Germany: and at half past five that evening we came to France.
And here I thought all was over, for they turned us out of the car and took up the cushions and carpet and opened the petrol-tank. They did not open the toolbox, because they saw Mansel do that. I saw him do it, too, and thought he was out of his mind. He took out one of the rubbers with which we had covered the treasure and then put a foot on the toolbox and started to dust his shoes, talking politics all the time with the Frenchman in charge and becoming so engrossed in his discourse that the search had been done and we were back in the car, before he had finished his dusting and put his rubber away.
And, when later we spoke of the matter with bated breath, he merely observed that prevention was better than cure.
“But you must have been worried,” cried Hanbury.
“Worried?” said Mansel. “I think it took a year off my life.”
And there you have Jonathan Mansel.
Master of many things, he was especially master of himself. His self-control was so perfect that those who knew him best could no more read his heart than they could look through a plate of armour of proof. Add to this that he could think twice as swiftly as other men, and you will see the disadvantage at which his enemies stood. When we were in any trouble, because he was wiser, he saw more clearly than we the depth of the risk we ran: yet he was always the coolest, the most confident, the most matter-of-course. With it all, he was never secretive. All his movements were gentle: yet he had the strength of two men. He was most unassuming and generous: yet was most plainly revered wherever he went.
I never knew, till long after, that, when he became lame, as the result of a wound, he lost his balance and so his head for heights, and that, from that time on, it troubled him to so much as look down from a balcony on to a garden below. Yet on that awful night he came up the great well and gave no indication then or at any time of the agony he must have suffered from this terrible thorn in the flesh.
At Strasbourg we turned south, and, when we were deep in the country, we took a little byroad which led to a wood. There we spent the night. And at eight o’clock the next evening we reached Dieppe.
So I came back to England the way I had come some seventy days before, with the dog-collar in pocket and my heart in my mouth.
And here, before I go any further, I will set down Bell’s tale.
He had heard the trap open, for he had not
