Sir Jervis's mother left him ten thousand pounds' worth of precious stones all contained in a little cabinet with drawers.

He won't let the banker take care of his jewels; he won't sell them; he won't even wear one of the rings on his finger, or one of the pins at his breast.

He keeps his cabinet on his dressing-room table; and he says, 'I like to gloat over my jewels, every night, before I go to bed.' Ten thousand pounds' worth of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and what not--at the mercy of the first robber who happens to hear of them.

Oh, my dear, he would have no choice, I do assure you, but to use his pistols.

We shouldn't quietly submit to be robbed.