“
Clovis straightened himself. He squared his shoulders. He tossed back his curls. Then slowly, with immense dignity, he climbed the cellar steps.
“Unhand my servant, please,” he ordered the crows. “As you see, I am Finn Taverner.”
The crows let go of the Indian. They stared at the golden-haired youth who had appeared at the top of the cellar steps. The boy’s breeding showed in every movement; he was an undoubted and true aristocrat. Here before them was The Blood which Sir Aubrey longed for, and they were filled with joy.
The boy now addressed his servant. “You have served me well, Kumari,” he said--and every word was crystal clear; the words of a perfect English gentleman, speaking slowly to a foreigner. “Now I give you your freedom. And with it, this token of my thanks.”
And out of the pocket of his tunic he took a watch on a long chain which he handed to the Indian.
“But, sir,” said Mr. Trapwood, who had seen the glint of silver. “Should you--”
“I am a Taverner,” said Clovis. “And no one shall say that I am not grateful to those who have served me. And now, gentlemen, I am ready. I take it you have reserved a first-class cabin for me?”
“Well,” began Mr. Low.
Mr. Trapwood kicked his shin. “It shall be arranged, sir,” he said. “Everything will be taken care of.”
“Good. I should like to go on board immediately.”
“Yes, sir, of course. If you’ll just come with us.”
Clovis bowed to Miss Minton, then to Maia. His eyes were dry and his dignity was matchless.
Then he followed the crows out of the museum.
”
”