urney, too. The worst thing is the sun. You see I am more careful of
my skin than you. As for the shoals, the rapids, the sharks, the lions,
the nomads who pop at you from the bank, _et cetera_--you are an
Englishman! Do you take an interest in antiques?" he broke off abruptly.

"Yes--though interest is a relative word too, I expect."

"Quite so!" agreed the Brazilian. "I have rather a mania for that sort
of thing, myself. Wait. Let me show you." And he went into the inner
cabin. When he came back he held up an alabaster cup. "A Greek kylix!"
he cried. "Pure Greek! What an outline, eh? This is what keeps me from
putting on my slippers! I have no doubt Alexander left it behind him.
Perhaps Hephaistion drank out of it, or Nearchus, to celebrate his
return from India. And some rascally Persian stole it out of a tent!"

Matthews, taking the cup, saw the flicker brighten in the Brazilian's
eyes.

"Nice little pattern of grape leaves, that," he said. "And think of
picking it up out here!"

"Oh you can always pick things up, if you know where to look," said
Magin. "Dieulafoy and the rest of them didn't take everything. How could
they? The people who have come and gone through this country of Elam!
Why just over there, at Bund-i-Kir, Antigonus fought Eumenes and the
Silver Shields for the spoils of Susa--and won them! I have
discovered--But come in here." And he pushed wider open the door of the
inner cabin.

Matthews stepped into what was evidently a stateroom. A broad bunk
filled one side of it, and the visitor could not help remarking a second
interior door. But his eye was chiefly struck by two, three, no four,
chests, which took up more space in the narrow cabin than could be
convenient for its occupant. They seemed to be made of the same
mysterious dark wood as the "ark," clamped with copper.

"I say! Those aren't bad!" he exclaimed. "More of the spoils of Susa?"

"Ho! My trunks? I had them made up the river, like the rest. But I
wonder what would interest you in my museum. Let's see." He bent over
one of the chests, unlocked it, rummaged under the cover, and brought
out a broad metal circlet which he handed to Matthews. "How would that
do for a crown, eh?"

The young man took it over to the porthole. The metal, he then saw, was
a soft antique gold, wrought into a decoration of delicate spindles,
with a border of filigree. The circlet was beautiful in itself, and
astonishingly heavy. But what it chiefly did for