Mr. Pole or
Mr. Powl, probably in the spirit of prophecy, warned you against
this danger.'
'Yes, Mr. Anne,' said Rowley blankly.
'Now there has just arisen one of those rare cases, in which I am
willing to depart from my principles. My uncle has given me a box-
-what you would call a Christmas box. I don't know what's in it,
and no more do you: perhaps I am an April fool, or perhaps I am
already enormously wealthy; there might be five hundred pounds in
this apparently harmless receptacle!'
'Lord, Mr. Anne!' cried Rowley.
'Now, Rowley, hold up your right hand and repeat the words of the
oath after me,' said I, laying the despatch-box on the table.
'Strike me blue if I ever disclose to Mr. Powl, or Mr. Powl's
Viscount, or anything that is Mr. Powl's, not to mention Mr. Dawson
and the doctor, the treasures of the following despatch-box; and
strike me sky-blue scarlet if I do not continually maintain,
uphold, love, honour and obey, serve, and follow to the four
corners of the earth and the waters that are under the earth, the
hereinafter before-mentioned (only that I find I have neglected to
mention him) Viscount Anne de Keroual de St.-Yves, commonly known
as Mr. Rowley's Viscount. So be it. Amen.'
He took the oath with the same exaggerated seriousness as I gave it
to him.
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