He was left in doubt as to the dreadful end of the unfortunate nobleman, for the Duke changed the subject. "Look here, Hank, will you be content if I hand over the necklace, and the tiara, and a cheque for £5,000?" "A crossed cheque?" asked the cautious Hank. "A crossed cheque," said the Duke firmly, "on the London and South Western Bank." There was another pause whilst Hank considered the proposition. "Yes," he agreed, "on condition you give me a paper exonerating me from any knowledge of the scuttling of the _Prideaux Castle_." "Oh, that," said the Duke carelessly, "that was a private matter entirely between the captain and myself, and I shall be very pleased to give you the paper." "Very good," said Hank’s voice, "when that paper is in my possession duly signed and witnessed and stamped at Somerset House, the partnership is dissolved." Mr. Nape, almost fainting in his excitement, had time to get back to his chair, when the two men returned. The Duke glanced at the pendant. "Finished?" he asked politely. "Yes, sir," muttered Mr. Nape unsteadily. "Well, I don’t think there is anything else we want done—do we?" Hank shook his head. Mr. Nape stole a glance at him and saw the gloomy frown. "It was the face" (I quote Mr. Nape’s secret diary) "of a man haunted with the memory of his black past." With great solemnity the Duke tipped the workman half a crown and led him to the door. When he returned he found Hank doubled up on the divan. "Ill?" he asked anxiously, "poisoned, by any chance?" But Hank continued to laugh till he subsided into helpless chuckles. Curiously enough the Duke, whose sense of humour was of the keenest, did not share in his friend’s amusement. He smiled once or twice as he paced the room. Then— "Hank," he said seriously, "do you think young Sherlock Raffles came here entirely out of curiosity?" "Sure," said the exhausted Hank. The Duke shook his head doubtingly. "There’s some little game on that I do not quite fathom. Do you know that the concert has been postponed?" "No." "Well, it has—and who do you think is responsible? Sir Harry Tanneur." Hank jerked his head inquiringly in the direction of 66. "Yes," said the Duke seriously, "for some unaccountable reason he has prevailed upon the vicar to change the date. I’ve just had a note from the vicar to tell me this. Tanneur is paying all the expenses incidental to the change, the printing and the advertisements, and that is not like Sir Harry, from what I know of him." "To-day is Tuesday," meditated, Hank, "and to-morrow is Wednesday." "You’re a devil of a chap for finding things out," said the Duke with amused irritation. "You’d put Jacko out of business in a week." In their less serious moments, the tenants of 64 invariably referred to Roderick as "Jacko Napes." "I can see no connexion between Jacko and the concert," said Hank, "can you?" The Duke shook his head.