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Page 97
Two millions in gold and silver and English notes! He would have his
revenge, for all these years of struggle and failure; for the cold and
callous policies of state which had driven him to this piece of
roguery, on their heads be it. Two thousand in Marseilles, ready at
his beck and call, a thousand more in Avignon, in Lyons, in Dijon, and
so on up to Paris, the Paris he had cursed one night from under his
mansard. In a week he would have them shaking in their boots. The
unemployed, the idlers, thieves, his to a man. If he saw his own death
at the end, little he cared. He would have one great moment, pay off
the score, France as well as Germany. He would at least live to see
them harrying each other's throats. To declare to France that he was
only Germany's tool, put forward for the sole purpose of destroying
peace in the midst of a great military crisis. He had other papers,
and the prying little Frenchman had never seen those; clever forgeries,
bearing the signature of certain great German personages. These should
they find at the selected moment. Let them rip one another's throats,
the dogs! Two million of francs, enough to purchase a hundred thousand
men.
"Ah, my great-grandsire, if spirits have eyes, yours will see something
presently. And that poor little devil of a secret agent thinks I want
a crown on my head! There was a time . . . Curse these infernal
headaches!"
On, on; hurry, hurry. The driver was faithful, a sometime brigand and
later a harbor boatman; and of all his confederates this one was the
only man he dared trust on an errand of this kind.
Evisa. They did not pause. They ate their supper on the way. With
three Sardinian donkeys, strong and patient little brutes, with
lanterns and shovels and sacks, the two fared into the pines. A�tone
was all familiar ground to the Corsican who, in younger days, had taken
his illegal tithe from these hills. They found the range soon enough,
but made a dozen mistakes in measurements; and it was long toward
midnight, when the oil of the lanterns ran low, that their shovels bore
down into the precious pocket. The earth flew. They worked like
madmen, with nervous energy and power of will; and when the chest
finally came into sight, rotten with age and the soak of earth, they
fell back against a tree, on the verge of collapse. The hair was damp
on their foreheads, their breath came harshly, almost in sobs.
Suddenly Breitmann fell upon his knees and laughed hysterically,
plunged his blistered hands into the shining heap. It played through
his fingers in little musical cascades. He rose.
"Pietro, you have been faithful to me. Put your two hands in there."
"I, _padrone_?" stupefied.
"Go on! Go on! As much as your two hands can hold is yours. Dig them
in deep, man, dig them in deep!"
With a cry Pietro dropped and burrowed into the gold and silver. A
dozen times he started to withdraw his hands, but they trembled so that
some of the coins would slip and fall. At last, with one desperate
plunge, the money running down toward his elbows, he turned aside and
let fall his burden on the new earth outside the shallow pit. He
rolled beside it, done for, in a fainting state. Breitmann laughed
wildly.
"Come, come; we have no time. Put it into your pockets."
"But, _padrone_, I have not counted it!" naively.
"To-morrow, when we make camp for breakfast. Let us hurry."
Quickly Pietro stuffed his pockets. Jabbering in his patois, swearing
so many candles to the Virgin for this night's work. Then began the
loading of the sacks, and these were finally dumped into the
donkey-panniers.
"Now, Pietro, the shortest cut to Ajaccio. First, your hand on your
amulet, and oath never to reveal what has happened."
Pietro swore solemnly. "I am ready now, _padrone_!"
"Lead on, then," replied Breitmann. Impulsively he raised his hands
high above his head. "Mine, all mine!"
He wiped his face and hands, pulled his cap down firmly, lighted a
cigarette, struck the rear donkey, and the hazardous journey began.
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