“Vague, certainly,” said Anthony, “but it told me conclusively that they were after something valuable—the clue to which lay in some way in these two screens. Butterworth no doubt had got on the track of it through his delvings into your father’s library, had realized that the late Lord Clavering’s screen—advertised for sale—would give him the evidence that he had been wanting and had brought his choice specimen of a son-in-law over from the States to take a hand in the game. A morning’s research gave me a hint as to what the query might very well be. Perhaps you would care to listen to a little history. Mary, Queen of Scots, besides being Queen of Scotland, was Dowager of France, the widow of the little King Francis. She was also the niece of His Eminence the Cardinal of Lorraine. He showered upon her a much greater measure of affection than was usual in those days, and when she eventually sailed for Scotland he made her a ‘great gift’ of twenty-two black pearls—you’ve handled some of them to-night, gentlemen. When Mary suffered her defeat years afterwards at Carbery Hill, which meant the complete overthrow of her fortunes, she took the steps about which you have just heard to preserve many of her treasures—the Cardinal’s gift among them. First of all I anticipated that they were buried somewhere in Scotland and the clue to their hiding-place was contained somewhere on the screens. So I set to work to read the riddle.” He walked up to the two screens and beckoned up the others. They crowded round. “Look at them,” he exclaimed. “What strikes you as strange about either of them?” “A good many things,” muttered Goodall. “But I don’t know that I can pick out anything in particular!” “Go on, Bathurst,” prompted Peter. “Put us out of our misery.” “Well,” said Anthony. “There is this. There is one thing—on the metal-work screen—that appeals to me as extraordinary. By extraordinary, I mean out of place—something you wouldn’t expect to be there. The inscription to Our Lord—the fleur-de-lis, the Lilies—the Leopards—all these are historically sound—normal—but what about the Latin words ‘_Timeo Danaos_’—‘I fear the _Greeks_’? It struck me that the word ‘Greek’ might contain an important significance. I toyed with the idea for some time—trying this and that attempt at solution. Then I began to dwell on the other inscription—‘JESUS CHRIST, GOD AND SAVIOUR.’ I turned it into Greek form—thus ‘_Ιησοῦς Χριστός Θεός Σωτἡρ_.’