It was a famous harlequinade; and, as usual, it concluded the entertainment. For after a harlequinade, what can stand between a child and happy dreams?--especially if he go to them with his arms full of Christmas presents. Five minutes after the curtain had fallen I found myself standing beside Mr Felix in the hall, while he bade good-night to his guests. Carriages of his hiring had arrived for them, and the coachmen apparently had received their orders. A dozen well-trained nurses moved about the hall, and, having dressed the little ones--who by this time were almost too drowsy with pleasure to thank their entertainer--carried them out into the portico, where the liveried footmen stood by the carriage doors. Slam! went the doors, and one after another--with scarcely a word of command-the carriages bowled off over the thick snow. When the last guest had gone, Mr Felix turned to me. 'The play is over,' said he. 'When I am gone, it will be repeated year after year at Christmas, at the Cripples' Hospital. My will provides for that, and that will be my monument. But for a few years to come I hope to hold the entertainment here, in my own house. Come, you may take off your robe and wig and go in peace. I would fain have a talk with you, but I am tired, as perhaps you may guess. Go, then--and go in peace!' Motioning the footman to fall back, he walked out with me and down the steps of the portico; but halted on the lowest step by the edge of the frozen snow, and with a wave of the hand dismissed me into the night. I had gained the end of the street and the bridge that there spans the river before it occurred to me that I was carrying my bag, and-- with a shock--that my bag still held the stolen jewels. By the second lamp on the bridge I halted, lifted the bag on to the snow-covered parapet, thrust in a hand, and drew forth--a herring! Herrings--red herrings--filled the bag to the brim. I dragged them forth, and rained handful after handful overboard into the black water. Still, below them, I had hopes to find the jewels. But the jewels were gone. At least, I supposed that all were gone, when-- having jettisoned the last herring--I groped around the bottom of the bag. Something pricked my finger. I drew it out and held it under the lamp-light. It was a small turquoise brooch, set around with diamonds. For at least two minutes I stared at it, there, under the lamp; had slipped it half-way into my waistcoat pocket; but suddenly took a new resolve, and walked back along the street to the house. Mr Felix yet stood on the lower step of the portico. Above him, still as a statue, a footman waited at the great house-door, until it should please his master to re-enter. 'Excuse me, sir--' I began, and held up the brooch.