He finally slipped the heavy band about his own smooth, sun-tanned neck and went at the task of securing Elaine's promised robe. This toil was far more difficult than even his lack of proper appliances had led him to anticipate. Although he had sharpened his stub of a knife-blade to a very respectable cutting-edge, it was far too small for the business.
His doggedness and application were the assets on which he had most to count, and without them here he must have failed. As it was, he remained so long away that Elaine, who was up, was alarmed. And, when at last he appeared below with the heavy, striped skin across his shoulder, she started abruptly, till she saw he was not another tiger.
"I thought you might like to see the size of his hide," he said, as he brought it to the terrace, "before I take it down by the shore for tanning. I shall soak it a while in a mixture of brine and saltpeter. Both are highly preservative---and the best the island affords."
"He was simply tremendous!" Elaine replied, when the skin had been spread on the rocks. "What have you got about your neck?"
"Oh, this?" said Grenville, removing the golden collar. "This is a symbol of royalty that his Bengal highness wore--your property now, as a trophy of the hunt."
She took it a little uncertainly as he held it forth in his hand.
"Why--it's gold!" she said. "These jewels---- The tiger was wearing this?"
"Undoubtedly someone did. He must have been a captive once, and probably escaped."
It could serve no good end to acquaint her with his actual suspicions, which might be ill-founded, after all.
"It's beautiful," she continued, gazing in admiration on the collar's simple massiveness. "But it's not for me, I'm sure." She held it out for him to take. But he bent above the skin.
"Then pitch it away," he instructed, laconically. "Toss it into the sea."
She colored, looking at him strangely. She could not throw away his property--anything of such great intrinsic value. She was baffled again, as he managed so frequently. Her hand and the golden circlet fell at her side. She could think of no appropriate speech of final rejection. A whimsical notion only arose to her groping mind.
"Fancy me wearing this priceless band of splendor," she said, "and eating with a stick!"