"Blow me, but I was," said William frankly, as he dived into his capacious pockets. "My mem'ry ain't wot it used to be, an' I knows it. Wot with work an' worry, an' worry an' work, it don't 'ave a fair chance. 'Ere you are, Cap'n." And William placed the jewellery in Mr. Hilton's hands with obvious regret. Then his host showed him off the premises. It was now four o'clock. Hilton pulled out the Great Seal, and locked it up in a secret drawer in his bureau. Then he retired to rest, in the happy consciousness of a night well spent. He rose late that morning, and it was one o'clock before he left his rooms. In Piccadilly, on the news posters: "THE GREAT SEAL OF ENGLAND STOLEN," at once caught his eye. He bought a paper, and turned to the column with curious interest. "A daring robbery was perpetrated in the early hours of this morning at Shipley House, Kensington Gore, the residence of the Lord Chancellor. His lordship, being unable to sleep, came downstairs about two o'clock, intending to complete an important judgment. In the library he found two burglars, who succeeded in decamping before his lordship could obtain assistance. "The Great Seal of England, and £250 in gold and notes are missing. "This is probably the most audacious burglary of modern times, for the Lord Chancellor is the head of the judicial system of the country, and, after Royalty, is only second in importance to the Archbishop of Canterbury. "England is to-day without a Great Seal of State, a position unparalleled since it was stolen from Lord Thurlow's residence in 1784. Only once before had it been missing--when James II. threw it into the Thames at Lambeth. "Great inconvenience has already been caused by its absence, as the treaty between England and Korea was to have been signed to-morrow, and the Great Seal affixed thereto. We understand that the Privy Council will meet in the morning at Buckingham Palace in order to deal with the situation thus created. "We are informed that the police have an important clue which will lead to the apprehension of at least one of the criminals. We do not know whether any special penalty is attached to the theft of the Great Seal, but a century ago the perpetrator of the crime would undoubtedly have been hanged." Richard Hilton stared at this in blank amazement. The pains and penalties did not disturb him, but "£250 in gold and notes missing" held him spellbound. Suddenly light dawned upon him, and he burst out with "Done! And by William! That was when he collected his tools, and I wasn't watching. The scoundrel! Hi! hansom! . . . Cox's Bank. Sharp!" Ten minutes later he was at the bank counter. "I have lost a cheque for £215, payable to bearer, made out to self and endorsed. Please stop payment," he said.