The imperturbable Bates shrugged his shoulders slightly and resumed his writing. So far as he was concerned, the matter was done with; but he knew the character of his superior sufficiently to know that the words he had said would take root, for, sooth to say, Mr Carver laid considerable weight upon his junior’s acumen, though, between the twain, such an idea was tacitly ignored. During the above interesting duologue, Mr Slimm had been eyeing the antagonists with a smile of placid amusement. That wily gentleman was rather taken with Bates’s argument. ‘Seems to me,’ he said, ‘the advantage is not all on one side. The honoured mistress of Eastwood, the lady whom our friend’—pointing to Mr Carver—‘has spoken of in such eulogistic terms, is no better off than we are. She has the property where the money is concealed, and, as far as we know now, it belongs to her. Any movement on our side will be sufficient to arouse her suspicions. Providing the money is found, as I have before said, as far as we know, it belongs to her. It is scarcely worth while going to the trouble and expense of unearthing this wealth for her. So far, she has the bulge on us. On the other hand, we know where the money is. She does not, and there we have the bulge on her.’ ‘And what is your proposition?’ Mr Carver inquired. ‘Arbitration,’ replied the American. ‘There is only one thing to do, and that is compromise. Even supposing our friends only get half, surely that is better than nothing. It’s the easiest thing in the world. All you have to do is to say to the lady: “Miss Wakefield, Mr Morton left you his money. You cannot find the money. Mrs Seaton knows where it is. The money, we admit, is yours, though in justice it should belong to her. In a word, my dear lady, divide;”’ and Mr Slimm leant back in his chair whistling a little air from _Princess Ida_, as if the whole thing was settled to the satisfaction of all parties. Mr Carver looked at him as a connoisseur eyes a bad copy of an old master. ‘Mr Slimm, I presume you have never seen the lady?’ Mr Slimm shook his head. ‘I thought not,’ continued Mr Carver. ‘You have been all over the world, and in the course of your rambles I presume you have seen the Sphinx?—Very good. Now, I do not suppose it ever struck you as a good idea to interview that curiosity, or to sit down before its stony charms with a view to learning its past history and the date of its birth.—No? The idea is too absurd; but I may venture to say, without exceeding the bounds of professional caution, that you are just as likely to get any display of emotion from Miss Wakefield—and indeed, the wonderful stone is much the more pleasant object’—— ‘But she is not so very awful, Mr Carver,’ Eleanor interposed.