A fortnight later, Caw, in his little sitting-room, was entertaining Monsieur Guidet to afternoon tea. The Frenchman had just completed the operation of replacing Christopher's clock with one of similar aspect minus the glamour and mystery of pendulum and fluid.

"Monsoor," said Caw, "excuse my asking it again, but could you not have done what the bullet did?"

"Perhaps, Mr. Caw, only perhaps. I am not so clever as Chance. The bullet, you see, came at the exact right instant to the exact right place. It was a miracle! The pig-hog—no! I call him not so since he is dead—the poor devil might have fired a million hundred bullets without doing what that one bullet did. That is all I can say—all I wish to say, because I still am sad that my clock was not let to stop himself. But now, I will ask you a query, Mr. Caw. How did the young lady, so beautiful, so brave, so splendid, come to be in the room with the—the poor devil?"

"Miss Handyside, being uneasy in her mind," Caw answered, a trifle stiffly, "had come secretly to ask me to keep an eye on an unworthy person who was staying in the house. Which is as much as I care to say on the subject, Monsoor."

"But you will tell me if she and Mr. Alan Craik are now betrothered?"

At that Caw's manner relaxed; he smiled rather complacently. "As a matter of fact, Monsoor," he replied, "the event took place yesterday, at four thirty-five p.m."

"Bravo! But I am not all surprised. That night, when I see them together,
I begin to smell a mouse."

"If I may say so," said Caw modestly, "it was myself who pulled the string, as it were."

Monsieur looked puzzled.

"I need not go into details, Monsoor, but I may tell you, in strictest confidence, that I had become fully fed up with the thing hanging fire. To my mind the position was absurd. Here were two pleasant young persons, worth nearly quarter of a million apiece, and as miserably in love as ever I hope to see two of my fellow creatures—and nothing doing! So, when the chance came, I felt it was my duty to take it. Accordingly, while they were going through the passage, I shut off the electric at the main switch." Caw paused to light a cigarette: he was becoming somewhat frivolous in his ways. "Later," he proceeded, "I gathered that they came out at the other end an engaged couple."

"Clever, Mr. Caw! You are a philosopher, I think."

"Oh, any idiot knows that people in that condition prefer darkness.
Still, I think I have done a service to both my masters, for she was Mr.
Christopher's choice for his nephew. Well"—he sighed—"I'm glad to have
done one thing without bungling."

"And the other young lady—also most beautiful but too hungry—too skim—you understand?"

"Slim, if you please, Monsoor. You'll be talking about slim milk next! But to be serious, it is a case where one can only hope for the best. There was never a finer young man than Mr. France, and it is a great pity there were no diamonds for him. I understand he is none too well off, and when a lady happens to have a very large fortune—of course, I understand that is no impediment in your country—"

"Would you not shut off the electric again, Mr. Caw?" the Frenchman eagerly asked.

Caw shook his head. "I was never one for tempting Providence by trying to repeat an immense success. Likely as not, they would fall down the stair instead of into each other's arms."

"Hah! that would not be so pleasing. The broken heart can be repaired, but the broken nose—" Monsieur made an expressive gesture and rose. "But, as you have said, we must hope for the best. It is always well to take an optical view of the future—is it not? And now, Mr. Caw"—he became nervous and produced a jeweller's package—"before I go I give you a small momento. My clock has brought you dangers, for which forgive. We have been allies in the service of my benefactor, Mr. Christopher Craik, and I hope we remain good friends for ever always. Take this, mon ami, but look not at it till I have depart. The description on it I hope you will approve on. But one thing more—I trust you to let me know when the marriage—no, I say the marriages, not singular—are about to go off … Au revoir!"

* * * * *

When Caw opened the package he was amazed to find a very fine gold hunting watch; and he was not a little touched on reading the inscription inside the case.

"To J. Caw from A. Guidet.
To Be Faithful
Is The Best Thing
We Can Do."

"Ay," he murmured ruefully, "but I've made a pretty poor show of it."

* * * * *

At the same hour, in the doctor's study, Marjorie and Alan were awaiting—without any visible impatience—the return of the others for tea. Lancaster and Teddy were still Alan's guests, but Doris was now Marjorie's. On the day following the stoppage of the clock, Mrs. Lancaster, finding it imperative that she should fulfil certain most important social engagements, had returned to London. She left Grey House in ignorance of all that had happened beyond the bare details of the division of the diamonds. Of Bullard's end she did not hear till a week later, and the particulars of his death were as vague as many of the particulars of the man's life. The "accident" had remained undiscovered for a couple of days, and the tides of the Firth had removed much. Mrs. Lancaster had departed with sullen, smouldering eyes. She honestly considered her daughter thankless and undutiful, because the latter had not promised her a share of the diamonds on the spot.

It was of her that Alan and Marjorie had been talking for the past five minutes.

"I wouldn't be too pessimistic, Alan, if I were you," the girl was saying. "Mrs. Lancaster, given her own way and plenty of money, may be quite bearable, if not charming, to live with, and Doris is evidently bent on supplying the money—"

"For her father's sake. Doris will never forgive her mother, and I don't see why she should."

Marjorie smiled. "Let's wait and see. What will the Lancasters' income be from Doris's gift?"

"If Doris spends a hundred thousand on a joint annuity, as she threatens to do, they will have about £8,000 a year."

"Goodness! what a lot to have to spend in twelve months!"

"And, of course, Lancaster, though he will have retired from business, will have quite a decent income of his own when the mines come round again."

"Well, I prophesy that they will both be fairly happy. Mrs. Lancaster ought to be able to make a pretty good display in what she calls Society. Now and then Mr. Lancaster will have a shilling left to spend on a nice book for his library, poor dear; and, with no business worries, he will probably begin to admire his wife once more as well as love her, which he has always done; and when he gets a surfeit of her friends, as I fear he will now and then, he will just take a little holiday and pay you a visit—"

"Us, please!"

"I wonder," said Miss Handyside, becoming extremely grave, "I wonder whether we ought to marry, after all."

"What?"

"We're both of us far, far too rich. You know I have always despised very rich people."

"I'm sure I'll lose my bit in no time," said Alan, hopefully.

"On the other hand, I have never admired foolish people."

"I never said you were conceited, did I?" he retorted.

"You wouldn't have said a thing like that twenty-four hours ago,
Mr. Craig!"

"Twenty-four hours ago I would not have interrupted you for the world."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at the clock! Twenty-four hours ago, in that dark passage, you were whispering—"

"I wasn't!" cried Marjorie, blushing adorably. "Hold your tongue and talk about something sensible."

"Right! Do you think you could be ready to marry me next month?"

When a minute or two had passed, she said: "We're a pair of horrid, selfish things!"

"How so?"

"We're so wrapped up in happiness—at least, you are—that we have no thought for poor Doris, and poor, poor Teddy. Oh, what is to be done about them? … Why don't you answer?"

"Because it's a problem, dear girl. We know it's simply want of money that's holding Teddy back, but even a fellow with plenty can't say to his friend: 'Look here, old cock, take this cheque and run away and get engaged!'"

"Certainly not! There's no need to be indelicate. Couldn't you put the cheque in his stocking at Christmas—or something?"

"While I am doubtful as to whether Teddy hangs up his sock, I know he's too sensitive and proud to accept a money gift, however delicately offered. As a matter of fact, Marjorie, I've tried—wanted him to take a quarter of the diamonds as a sort of souvenir, you know—"

"You dear, kind, generous man!" exclaimed Marjorie….

Order being restored—

"My only hope," he went on, "is that Teddy will, somehow, lose his head and take the plunge, and then it would be a wedding present. One can't reject a wedding present, can one?"

"No—though every one of my sisters has fervently wished one could. And I could give him a wedding present, too!"

"We!"

"No, big!"

They both laughed, then sighed, and with one accord said—

"But he'll never do it!"

* * * * *

Dusk was falling on the loch. The figures of Lancaster and Handyside walking in front were becoming invisible.

"But why," asked Doris, "are you going back to London? I thought you had decided to spend the winter at Grey House and help Alan with his book about the Eskimos."

"I'm afraid it's a blue lookout for the Eskimos. You see, Alan hopes Marjorie will agree to marry him in January. The stopping of the clock has altered a good many things," he finished, rather drearily.

"It seems to have altered you, Teddy," she said shyly.

He did not respond, and there was another of the long pauses which had been frequent during the walk.

"Father and I must be going, too, before long," she said at last.

"Your father is looking a new man, Doris," he returned, with an effort.

"Thanks to you…. Oh, I know you have told me not to speak about it, but I implore you to tell me how you did that wonderful thing about the debt to the Syndicate. Tell me, Teddy."

"You must excuse me."

"But why should you want to hide the truth from me? Do you know what you force me to think?—that you paid the debt yourself!"

"Well, I didn't."

"Not some of it?"

There was silence, then—"For heaven's sake, Doris, let the matter rest.
Forget about it!"

"Forget! What do you think I'm made of? … Oh, I'm beginning to wonder whether Christopher's diamonds have brought me any real happiness."

Controlling himself he said: "You know they have, for your father's sake alone—"

"Even so," she said, and halted.

"Doris," he whispered with passionate bitterness, "I will say it only once: it's rotten to be poor. That's all. Now let's—"

"And I think I will say it all my life," she answered almost inaudibly; "… it's rotten to be rich, and I'm afraid we shall be late for tea."

They were,—very late.

*****

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