"And it was on that first occasion that he told me what he wanted of me. You know, Neale, that I am trustee for two or three families in this town. Joseph knew that I held certain securities--deposited in a private safe of mine at the bank--which could be converted into cash in, say, London, at an hour's notice. He had already helped himself to them, and had prepared a document which only needed my signature to enable him to deal with them. That signature would have put nearly a quarter of a million into his pocket. "He used every endeavour to make me sign the paper which he brought. He said that if I would sign, he would leave an ample supply of the best food and drink within my reach, and that I should be released within thirty-six hours, by which time he would be out of England. When I steadily refused he had recourse to cruelty. Twice he beat me severely with a dog-whip; another time he assaulted me with hands and feet, like a madman. And then, when he found physical violence was no good, he told me he would slowly starve me to death. But he was doing that all along. The first three days I had nothing but a little soup and dry bread--the remaining part of the time, nothing but dry bread. And during the last two days, I knew that there was something in that bread which sent me off into long, continued periods of absolute unconsciousness. And--I was glad! "That's all. You know the rest--better than I do. I don't know yet how that explosion came about. He had been in to me only a few minutes before it happened, badgering me again to sign that authority. And--I felt myself weakening. Flesh and blood were alike at their end of endurance. Then--it came! And as I say, that's all!--but there's one thing I wanted to ask you. Have those jewels been found?" "Yes!" replied Neale. "They were found--all safe--in a suit-case in Joseph's house, along with a lot of other valuables--money, securities, and so on. He was evidently about to be off; in fact, the luggage was all ready, and so was a cab which he'd ordered, and in which he was presumably going to Ellersdeane." "And another thing," said Horbury, turning from one to the other, "I heard this morning that you'd left the Bank, Neale. What are you going to do? What has happened?" Betty looked at Neale warningly, stooped over the invalid, kissed him, rose and took Neale's unwounded arm. "No more talk today, Uncle John!" she commanded. "Wait until tomorrow. Then--if you're very good--we shall perhaps tell you what is going to happen to--both of us!" THE END End of Project Gutenberg's The Chestermarke Instinct, by J. S. Fletcher