of the feeblest liars I ever had to do with. Tatham's counsel
would have turned them inside out in five minutes. You seem to forget the
other side are employing counsel."

"I forgot nothing!" said Melrose hotly. "But I expect you to follow your
instructions."

"The point is--am I advising you in this matter, or am I merely your
agent? You seem to expect me to act in both capacities. And I confess I
find it difficult."

Melrose fretted and fumed. He raised one point after another, criticising
Faversham's action and advice in regard to the housing inquiries, as
though he were determined to pick a quarrel. Faversham met him on the
whole with wonderful composure, often yielding in appearance, but in
reality getting the best of it throughout. Under the mask of the
discussion, however, the temper of both men was rising fast. It was as
though two deep-sea currents, converging far down, were struggling unseen
toward the still calm surface, there to meet in storm and convulsion.

Again, Melrose changed the conversation. He was by now extraordinarily
pale. All the flushed excitement in which Faversham had found him had
disappeared. He was more spectral, more ghostly--and ghastly--than
Faversham had ever seen him. His pincerlike fingers played with the jewel
which Felicia had thrown down upon the table. He took it up, put on his
eyeglass, peered at it, put it down again. Then he turned an intent and
evil eye on Faversham.

"I have now something of a quite different nature to say to you. You
have, I imagine, expected it. You will, perhaps, guess at it. And I
cannot imagine for one moment that you will make any difficulty about
it."

Faversham's pulse began to race.

He suspended his cigarette.

"What is it?"

"I am asked to send a selection of antique gems to the Loan Exhibition
which is being got up by the 'Amis du Louvre' in Paris, after Christmas.
I desire to send both the Arconati Bacchus and the Medusa--in fact all
those now in the case committed to my keeping."

"I have no objection," said Faversham. But he had suddenly lost colour.

"I can only send them in my own name," said Melrose slowly.

"That difficulty is not insurmountable. I can lend them to you."

Melrose's composure gave way. He brought his hand heavily down on the
table.

"I shall send them in--as my own property--in my own name!"

Faversham eyed him.

"But they are not--they will not be--your property."

"I offer you three thousand pounds