But,
faith, I'll die a millionaire, and that's something I never
expected to be. Fine, fine! Give me a minute more, and I'll die
a multi-millionaire! Sure, imagine that, will you? Major Aloysius
Bohannan, gentleman-adventurer, a multi-millionaire! That's what I'll
be, and the man don't live that can stop me now!"
With the laugh of a madman, the major fell to his knees again beside
the pit, plunged his hands once more into the gleaming, sliding mass
of wealth, and recommenced cramming his pockets.
The Master laughed again.
"It's quite immaterial, after all," said he. "I led you into this.
And now it's very nearly a case of _sauve qui peut_. The sooner your
pockets are full, to the extreme limit, the sooner something like
reason will return to you. Jewels being of interest to a man at
death's door--it's quite characteristic of you, Bohannan. Help
yourself!"
"Thanks, I will!" Bohannan flung up at him, blood-drabbled face pale
and drawn by the flaring lamplight. "A _multi_-millionaire! Death? I
should worry! Help myself? Faith, I just will, that!"
"Anyone else, here, feel so disposed?" the Master inquired. "If so,
get it over and done with.
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