Marjorie did not know; he was pretty sure of that by her way to him. But still ... it was known enough; it was known to two.... After all, what was pulling a horse, and what had it to do with pinching emeralds, anyhow? ... Yet ... yet ... he could not leave Paulings till it was cleared up.... If the damned thing turned up in town in some receiver's shop they might connect it with him.... He was glad he hadn't brought a man.... No, he must stay till it was cleared up. It was a damned nuisance. They were getting up a party on Sunday night at the Posts. There was to be a rich young fool from Ireland whom they would all play with. Those occasions were not so common nowadays. But he must sacrifice it. He must stay on. He made his decision; he slowly picked up the small change off his dressing table and shuffled it into his trousers pocket. Then he mechanically followed it with his hand, and found something that was not a coin.... At first he had the grotesque idea that he was handling a pebble, though how it could have got there he could not conceive. Then a matchbox, for it was smooth and cold.... When he pulled it out and saw what it was, his whole mind went through a violent shock of revulsion. He was so sickened, strong as he was, that he had to sit down and recover himself. And as he so sat, he fixed the dreadful thing with his eye, holding it there between the fingers of his right hand, unmoving. Now indeed was a resolution to be taken! At first his mind would not work. A man possessed of a thing, no matter what he does with it, carries his communications about with him, leaves traces about of his possession. If he threw it out of the window, it would be found within the radius of such a throw. There was nowhere in the room where he would dare to hide it. If he dropped it as he went downstairs, a servant might pass and find it within a minute, connecting him with what was so found. Give it back himself he dared not. That would mean, "Poor Tommy! He gave way, but he did the honest thing in the end." He would be branded for life. Attaboy was enough, without that. At first the easiest course lured him; to say nothing; to keep it upon his person until everything had blown over; then to take it up with him to town.... Then? ... He could not help remembering how Alfred had told him about his uncle and the cutting establishment in Amsterdam. It was all mixed up with the committee for inquiring into the Meldon business when there was that trouble in Parliament a few years before.... It seemed that one could have a stone cut and get it back unrecognisable.... Then he thrust the thought out of his mind and shuddered a little at the danger. [Illustration: _Lord Galton discovers the Emerald._]