Dr. Vinsen fortified himself with brandy before replying. His nerves were shaken, and the liquor gave him courage. "Why have you had two travelling trunks made, and inscribed with the name of Corsi?" "Ah, you have discovered that. It is the name I shall assume when I leave these shores for another country. The trunks, as you have doubtless observed, are specially constructed for the safe transport of works of art." "I forbid you to remove them," cried Dr. Vinsen. "They no longer belong to you." "How so?" "How so?" echoed Dr. Vinsen. "You will not deny your signature?" "No, I will not deny it." "By this document," said Dr. Vinsen, taking a paper from his pocket-book, "which I had duly stamped on the day you signed it, they became my property if, in six months from that date, you had not discharged your debt to me. The six months expired to-day." "Pause a moment before you open it. When did you read it last?" "Yesterday, and put it in my pocket-book to bring here to-night." "If my memory does not play me false, the date was the 18th of September, 1897. I did not approve of the document you asked me to sign, and you wrote another at this table, worded somewhat differently. One hundred and eighty-three days have elapsed since then. I am curious to see if I timed it correctly. Open the paper." Dr. Vinsen unfolded it, and started in amazement. The paper was blank, nothing appearing on it but the red Government stamp. "It was a vulgar trick," said Dr. Pye. "You wrote and I signed, not in ink which gradually fades, but which suddenly disappears at an appointed hour. Content yourself, my worthy friend, and thank me for saving you from a danger which would have sent you to the hulks. Had you attempted to dispose of these gems to a dealer in any European city you would have been immediately arrested. They have been bought with blood, and there is not a police court that has not a list of them. Priceless treasures! Here are vases, medallions, and bronzes of Benvenuto Cellini, for which collectors would give thousands of guineas, and every one known throughout the civilised world. That wondrous artificer saw visions, as I do, and his progress was marked with blood, as mine has been. Content yourself, I say; when I make my fortune you shall be paid, and if we discover the jewels to-night you shall have the lion's share. Now, follow me, if you have the courage." * * * * * Noiseless footsteps on the dark stairs, noiseless footsteps in the passages--the footsteps of men in their stocking feet. They reach the landing on which Samuel Boyd's bedroom and office are situated.