H. Bedford-Jones

“ Staring around as he sat up, Kent found a packet of food and a bottle of native wine at his elbow. He rose and looked over the jungle below. No sign of civilization, not even a village! The mossy, lichenous shrine appeared to be the end of the road—a mere track that came up the hillside. ”

“ It is remarkable, my Hawkins, how magnificently we are pulling this affair through! No one hurt except the palace guards. No damage done to anybody. M. Kent will be the only one to suffer, and fools must pay for their folly in any case. The treasure is put into circulation, instead of being hoarded behind stone walls—and we are rich for life!"
"You're some bird, I'll say!" returned Hawkins admiringly.
It was at this instant that Kent came within hearing distance, and paused to listen. Thus he failed to catch the mention of Marie Marquet.
"The treasure—you followed my orders?" asked Paléologue. ”

“ Kent could find no light here. For the moment the importance of this paled before the greater fact—the royal treasure had been looted.
Suddenly Kent saw that the whole game lay in his hands at this moment.
He could let Paléologue return, catch him off his guard, and down him. With the native hunters he could go on, capture Hawkins and his two companions, and round up the entire gang. If he found no treasure, he could bargain with Paléologue; a good half of it would come to him, surely. Riches for life, at no cost, at small exertion! Thieve from the thieves—why not? ”