I threw away my creel and
sprinted for all I was worth. I had earned some small fame at this
sort of thing in my university days, yet I arrived at the tree with
only a very few yards to spare. Throwing myself upon my knees, I
commenced a feverish search, and presently - more by good fortune
than any thing else - my random fingers encountered a soft, silken
bundle. When Lisbeth came up, flushed and panting, I held them in
my hands.
"Give them to me!" she cried.
"I'm sorry - "
"Please," she begged.
"I'm very sorry - "
"Mr. Brent." said Lisbeth, drawing her self up, "I'll trouble you
for my - them."
"Pardon me, Lisbeth," I answered, "but if I remember anything of the
law of 'treasure-trove' one of these should go to the Crown, and one
belongs to me.
Lisbeth grew quite angry - one of her few bad traits.
"You will give them up at once - immediately?
"On the contrary," I said very gently, "seeing the Crown can have no
use for one, I shall keep them both to dream over when the nights are
long and lonely."
Lisbeth actually stamped her foot at me, and I tucked "them" into
my pocket.
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