the part allotted him in this
strange comedy, lead him where it might.

"Yes, and no!" he answered evasively. "Really I have come to ask you for
something--the mahogany case which is in your smaller Etruscan urn!"

Jesson stared; first at Sheard, and then, significantly, at Crofter.

"I begin to suspect that you have lunched unwisely!" he sneered.

Sheard repressed a hot retort, and Crofter, to cover the embarrassment
which he felt at this seeming contretemps, hummed softly and instituted
a painstaking search for the vessel referred to. He experienced little
difficulty in finding it, for it was one of two huge urns standing upon
ebony pedestals.

"The smaller, you say?" he called with affected cheeriness.

Sheard nodded. It was a crucial moment. Did the pot contain anything? If
not, he had made a fool of himself. And if it did, in what way could its
contents assist him in his campaign of extortion?

The artist, standing on tiptoe, reached into the urn--and produced a
mahogany case, such as is used for packing silver ware.

"What's that?" rapped Jesson excitedly. "I know nothing of it!"

"You might open it, Crofter!" directed Sheard with enforced calm.

Crofter did so--and revealed, in a nest of black velvet, a small piece
of exquisite pottery.

A passage hitherto obscure in Severac Bablon's letter instantly
explained itself in Sheard's mind. "I did not further weary you with a
discourse upon Egyptology; moreover, _I had a matter of urgency to
attend to_!"

Sir Leopold Jesson took one step forward, and then, with staring eyes,
and face unusually pale, turned on the journalist.

"The Hamilton Vase! You villain!"

"Sir Leopold!" cried Sheard with sudden asperity, "be good enough to
moderate your language! If you can offer any explanation of how this
vase, stolen only last night from the national collection, comes to be
concealed in your house, I shall be interested to hear it!"

Jesson looked at Crofter, who still held the case in his hands; the
artist's face expressed nothing but blank amazement. He looked at
Sheard, who met his eyes calmly.

"There is roguery here!" he said. "I don't know if there are two of
you----"

"Sir Leopold Jesson!" cried Crofter angrily, "you have said more than
enough! Your hobby has become a mania, sir! How you obtained possession
of the vase I do not know, nor do I know how my friend has traced the
theft to you; least of all how this scandal is to be hushed up. But have
th