'Never been raised?'

'No. The underwriters failed and went bankrupt, and the wreck came
into the hands of your English Lloyd's. It remained their property
till '75, but they never got at the bullion. In fact, for fifty years
it was never scratched at, and its very position grew doubtful, for
the sand swallowed every stick. The rights passed through various
hands, and in '86 were held by an enterprising Swedish company, which
brought modern appliances, dived, dredged, and dug, fished up a lot
of timber and bric-à-brac, and then broke. Since then, two Hamburg
firms have tackled the job and lost their capital. Scores of lives
have been spent over it, all told, and probably a million of money.
Still there are the bars, somewhere.'

'And what's being done now?'

'Well, recently a small local company was formed. It has a depot at
Memmert, and is working with a good deal of perseverance. An engineer
from Bremen was the principal mover, and a few men from Norderney and
Emden subscribed the capital. By the way, our friend Dollmann is
largely interested in it.'

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Davies's tell-tale face growing
troubled with inward questionings.

'We mustn't get back to him,' I said, laughing. 'It's not fair to my
friend. But all this is very interesting. Will they ever get those
bars?'

'Ah! that's the point,' said von Brüning, with a mysterious twinkle.